New York City no number 1955

Editor: This gelatin silver print is “New York City no number” by Robert Frank, created in 1955. Looking at the composition of the film strip against the stark black background, it feels like a fragmented memory. How do you interpret this work, focusing on its formal elements? Curator: Formally, we observe a distinct division of space: the upper portion is dominated by strips of film, punctuated by a seemingly random assortment of images, whereas the lower portion is consumed by a large field of dark, undifferentiated space. The textural contrast between the grainy, visually active film strip and the smooth, inert background is striking. Consider the light. It’s harsh, creating stark contrasts. How does this inform the image's affect? Editor: It does create tension, highlighting the almost chaotic nature of the film strip and isolating it from the void. The way the images are presented as part of a film strip calls attention to its materiality as a photograph. The materiality creates distance from whatever narrative they contain. Curator: Precisely. The rough edges of the film, the sprocket holes—these are integral to the reading of the photograph. They force us to consider not only what is depicted, but the means of depiction itself. Think about the repetition, too. The sequence of frames implies a passage of time, a narrative that is never fully revealed. We, as viewers, are left to fill in the gaps. Editor: So, by emphasizing the form and the fragmented nature of the images, Frank directs our attention to the act of seeing itself, and not to the story being shown. Curator: Exactly. He challenges our expectation of narrative clarity, and in doing so, prompts us to question the very nature of representation in photography. Editor: This was illuminating; I had only considered the content, ignoring the powerful language of the film itself. Curator: Indeed, a closer inspection into its formal aspects allows for an interesting lens on Robert Frank’s unique approach.