Wales 31 1953

Robert Frank compiled "Wales 31" from photographic film and marker pen. Look at the surface; it’s a collection of strips from a roll of film. I imagine Frank in his darkroom, snipping and arranging these frames. The red marker slashes and circles feel raw, like quick decisions made in the heat of the moment, editing. The marks feel performative, like when Cy Twombly would scrawl across a canvas, scratching away to find meaning. Frank shoots everyday subjects and imbues them with a kind of grit and poetry. I’m thinking of other artists who did this—Walker Evans, for one. They embraced the world as it is, not prettied up, but real and full of contradictions. These film strips are like pages from a visual diary, aren't they? We’re invited into his process, his way of seeing, and asked to bring our own experiences to the conversation. Because art doesn't exist in a vacuum. It's a back-and-forth, an exchange of ideas and feelings. It's about seeing, thinking, and feeling together.