Equivalent c. 1927

Alfred Stieglitz captured these fleeting cloud formations in a gelatin silver print, like quicksilver on paper. I wonder, when he was making this, did he feel like he was wrestling with something in the sky? Stieglitz points the camera upwards, not to document the clouds, but to use them as vehicles for something else, something deeply felt. It's like he's not just looking at clouds; he’s trying to translate an inner state into a visual language. It reminds me of when I paint, you know? It's never just about the paint or the canvas. It’s about trying to pin down something that’s just out of reach, that I can't quite name. These clouds become moods. They're dark and light, heavy and weightless. You can feel the air moving and it seems to be saying, "Everything is temporary. Feel it now." What I love about Stieglitz is how he reminds us that art is always in conversation, a back-and-forth across time and mediums.