Equivalent c. 1927

Curator: This is a photograph by Alfred Stieglitz, made around 1927. It's a gelatin-silver print, and he titled it "Equivalent." Editor: The word "equivalent" feels significant here. It’s like I'm staring at a moody dreamscape captured in grayscale. Are we sure it isn’t abstract charcoal? Curator: Well, Stieglitz was indeed deeply involved with the movement to elevate photography to the level of fine art. So the soft focus, high contrast and everyday subject reflect some modernist approaches. The picture might suggest a landscape but moves quickly toward pure shape and form. Editor: So it is both there and not there? A physical location abstracted to oblivion? It certainly gives me the same lonely feelings as gazing at an early modernist painting... those sweeping brushstrokes in stormy blues... do you see a kindred spirit here? Curator: I do. In the '20s, Stieglitz was exploring the idea that a photograph could represent not just a visual scene but also an internal state, that the clouds were symbols. Hence the title “Equivalent”. He was trying to provoke questions around what’s actually being depicted versus what it truly communicates. Editor: Well, he succeeded in my case. Looking at this makes me ponder big themes, feelings of isolation versus connection. I’m reminded of staring out train windows on a long journey, watching the world blur... Did he plan the picture or do you imagine he just caught what was at hand? Curator: The ‘how’ becomes especially interesting. It's crucial to note his intense commitment to capturing the "decisive moment"—the intersection of timing, light, and subject—and it might also reflect a deep anxiety about modernity's effects upon the self. Editor: Maybe a bit. Thank you for shedding light on these shadows. For a simple cloudscape it becomes very meaningful. Curator: A simple cloudscape pregnant with significance. That's the beauty of "Equivalent." Editor: Exactly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll find my own quiet cloud.