New York 1971

This photograph, New York, was shot by Helen Levitt. It’s not dated, but the flares and hair styles suggest to me it might be the 1970s. I love the casualness of the composition, and the way the eye roams over the surface. Nothing is really crisp or in focus, more like a snatched moment, a quick glance. The palette is muted, but not drab; the reds and blues of the trucks give just enough contrast to the grey tarpaulin covers and the purple-tinged denim. Look at the guy on the right. He’s got a can of soda, his shirt is unbuttoned, and he’s caught mid-stride, almost dancing. The guy on the left is more solid, rooted to the spot with his hands on the draped furniture. It’s not posed, but I bet if you asked them to do it again it would be different. This picture shares something with Garry Winogrand’s street photography, a feeling of urban life as a theater for the absurd. These passing moments are like a dance, where everything is in motion and nothing stands still.