Untitled 1980

Ursula Schulz-Dornburg made this photograph, we're not sure exactly when, but it's a silver gelatin print. Isn't it something how a black and white image can feel so full of color? The light here is so specific, like the moment before a storm, the air thick and damp, pressing down on the water. The building is solid, but it's also dissolving back into the landscape; the windows look like eyes staring out into nothing. I love the surface quality, how the tones shift and blend. Look at the texture of the water, how the light creates all these tiny marks, and then compare that to the flat expanse of the sky. There's a push and pull between the details and the overall composition, like a conversation between the artist and the world. It reminds me of the early photographs of Eugene Atget, or the stark landscapes of Agnes Martin – a search for the sublime in the everyday. I love how open it is, how many different things it could be.