Staircase in the rue Rollin 1934

Curator: Here we have Brassaï's gelatin-silver print, "Staircase in the rue Rollin," taken in 1934. Editor: Ooh, this pulls you in, doesn't it? Dark and twisty. Makes you wonder what's lurking at the top of those stairs. Curator: Brassaï, a key figure in 20th-century photography, was drawn to capturing Paris’s nocturnal soul, particularly its hidden corners. He's offering a vision that transcends realism, playing with shadow and light in a unique way. Editor: Yes, and those stark contrasts... It’s a study in tonal architecture. Look at how the light grazes the posters, illuminating only fragments. It's practically a symphony of textures, from the rough plaster to the smooth, reflective glass of the lamps. Curator: Absolutely. And the staircase itself functions as a strong diagonal, drawing the viewer's eye upward through the layers of signage and architectural detail. The advertisements offer a kind of snapshot of daily life, all caught in the nocturnal ambience of the street. It is realism, with the surreal and dreamlike quality from that era. Editor: It's more than just documentary though, isn't it? He is not merely presenting the physical facts of a place, he's building atmosphere and hinting at all sorts of unspoken stories playing out around it. What about those nested, rectangular compositions? It has a visual and tactile depth. Curator: I agree. This photograph encapsulates Brassaï's poetic approach to urban life, and that interplay between visibility and invisibility which is core to his artistic project. Editor: So true... and I suppose the staircase functions almost as a stage upon which unseen narratives might play out in an intimate urban theatre. Curator: Well said! Brassaï leaves us with more questions than answers, making it endlessly compelling. Editor: Precisely! It remains, after all these years, a profoundly suggestive photograph that asks you to fill in the gaps, and imagine a past in a long ago Paris.