Francis Picabia 1915

This gelatin silver print of Francis Picabia was made by Alfred Stieglitz sometime in the first half of the 20th century. The tones are subtle and the greyscale is smooth. There’s a real gentleness in the image, an intimate exchange between artist and subject. Stieglitz allows the background painting to softly encroach, blurring the boundaries between portrait and abstract form, and complicating the act of looking itself. The snaking white lines behind Picabia seem to mirror the folds of his suit, binding him to the work. I’m drawn to the bottom left of the image, where the sharp line of the painting’s edge meets the blurred form of Picabia’s leg. The painting suddenly becomes a prop and the portrait falls into abstraction. Like his contemporary Man Ray, Stieglitz was fascinated by the way photography could mess with perception, and this piece feels like part of that conversation. It’s as if the image is constantly questioning itself, shifting and changing with each new look.