William Swanson, matroos, Newport, R.I., 1944 1944

In 1944, somebody, somewhere, captured William Swanson, a sailor in Newport, R.I., with who knows what kind of camera. The beauty of a black and white image like this is the infinite range of grays, how they blend and bleed into each other like watercolor. It's not about stark contrasts, it's about subtlety, softness, and a delicate touch. It's like a memory fading in and out of focus. Look at the way the light catches the brim of his cap and the gentle curve of his cheek. There's a real intimacy to it. The texture of the paper, the way the silver has tarnished around the edges of the frame, it all adds to the feeling of something precious, a moment frozen in time. This photo reminds me of the quiet, introspective portraits by Lucian Freud, even though the styles are worlds apart. Both artists share a desire to capture something essential about their subjects, a sense of vulnerability and humanity that transcends style and technique. It’s a reminder that art is about connection, about seeing and being seen, and about the ongoing conversation between artists across time.