Just before noon Lena Kansler delivers orders to the building at the west corner of the block. Her husband Benny runs the luncheonette. 1951

Editor: So, this is "Just before noon Lena Kansler delivers orders to the building at the west corner of the block. Her husband Benny runs the luncheonette." snapped by Robert Frank in 1951. It’s a photograph, and in black and white, obviously. It gives off such a sense of everyday life, but something about her gaze…it makes me wonder about the story. What do you see in this piece? Curator: Oh, Robert Frank. He saw beauty and stories in the mundane. The grainy texture, the stark contrast – it's not just documentation, is it? To me, this isn't only a photograph, it is a narrative fragment, a moment stolen from time. Do you get the feeling she might as well be pushing the weight of the world? Look at the title: it tells us so much! Does the matter-of-fact quality strike you, given what is to come for him in his career? Editor: Definitely. She does seem weary. But then you have the truck in the background, advertising "Princess Ann Girls Coats". There’s this strange disconnect between the gritty reality and the idealized image. Curator: Ah, a fellow reader of irony! Frank was brilliant at capturing those tensions. This isn’t a posed, advertising-friendly scene. It's raw, visceral. Street photography allows such "accidents" of juxtaposition. It really allows me to think of my role, our role, as humans. A mirror is held up, revealing so much that is simply around, begging for our noticing! Don't you feel as though Frank is saying, "Here, *look*!" Editor: Yes! I see it now. It's about capturing a specific moment, the labor and the everyday hustle. Thanks, that’s incredibly helpful. Curator: My pleasure. It’s easy to gloss over these images. But dwelling in them, even for a few minutes, lets us find our humanity in others.