Progression of Art
Bandits' Roost, 59 1/2 Mulberry Street
This photograph depicts an alley in a slum located in what was called "The Bend," a notorious neighborhood between Mulberry, Baxter, Bayard, and Park Streets in New York. Riis said of The Bend that "Abuse is the normal condition...murder its everyday crop."
Here, two men on the right seem to guard the entrance to "the Bend" while the man leaning on the club only heightens the sense of menace. Behind them, another man casually perches on a staircase railing (possibly the gang leader) while three other figures cluster on the opposite staircase. All the men are turned to face down the camera. Adding to the general mood of urban despondency, a woman and a child lean out of windows in the building on the right, while in background, clothing hangs on lines strung along the alley. Overall, a sense of crowded poverty and desperate circumstances becomes the backdrop for Riis's foreboding portrait of the Mulberry Street "bandits".
Raised in Denmark, Riis arrived in New York in 1870. By 1877 he had begun working as a police reporter for The New York Tribune. A year later, after reading about the invention of magnesium flash powder, which made night photography possible, Riis took up photography. He began visiting the slums at night, where, accompanied by his two assistants and a policeman, he sometimes startled the residents with the abrupt flash of his camera. As Bonnie Yochelson wrote, his images "captured what had never been seen before in a photograph [while they] retain their power today because the harsh light and haphazard compositions convey the chaos of living in poverty."
Influenced by the progressive social reform movements that had initially emerged in the mid-1800s with Felix Adler's founding of the Society for Ethical Culture, Riis published his photographs, along with accompanying text, in How the Other Half Lives (1890). The groundbreaking work, documenting the poverty of urban immigrants, spurred legislative reform and became thus a seminal work of Social Documentary photography. Yet, while his images captured the reality of slum life, Riis also perpetuated many of the stereotypical views of the era. As contemporary curator Daniel Czitrom wrote, "I've always been struck by the tension between the empathy and sympathy that's powerfully depicted in many of those images, and the kind of stereotypes, racial language, that he uses in the text. There's a tension between the text and the photographs. Today, no one really reads Riis anymore, and yet the photographs remain incredibly moving."
Gelatin silver print - Museum of Modern Art, New York
Addie Card, 12 years. Spinner in North Pormal Cotton Mill
Dressed in her uniform of a dirty work smock, and her bare feet blackened with grease, Addie Card leans with one arm casually resting on the spinning machinery that fills up the background with spindles and skeins. Her blank face stares at the viewer, evoking the grueling toll of child labor. Writer Elizabeth Winthrop observed of Addie that her "left arm rests easily on the huge machinery but crooked at a strange angle, as if perhaps a bone had been broken and never set properly," perhaps incurred while working, as terrible industrial accidents were frequent. Winthrop added that "To keep her hair from the frame's hungry grasp, it is pulled tight and pinned in a style befitting a grown woman." Yet her delicate features, her sad eyes, and her right arm hanging in exhaustion at her side, give her the wistfulness of a child. Hine was to describe her in his notes, as an "Anaemic little spinner" who first claimed to be ten years old, then admitted that she was twelve and had started working during the summer but intended to stay on. Her deception about her age reflected the reality that manufacturers believed that younger girls, due to their small hands and gender, were ideal textile workers.
Hine had studied sociology before moving to New York in 1901 where he taught at the Ethical Culture School, introducing photography as a lessons aid. Resigning his teaching position in 1908, Hine began photographing child laborers, often under cover, in textile mills, coalmines, and factories for the National Child Labor Committee. As art historian Lisa Hostetler wrote, "not only have [his images] been credited as important in the passing of child labor laws, but [they] also have been praised for their sympathetic depiction of individuals in abject working conditions." Hostetler added that Hine had "labeled his pictures 'photo-interpretations,' emphasizing his subjective involvement with his subjects [developing an approach that] became the model for many later documentary photographers, such as Sid Grossman and Ben Shahn."
Gelatin silver print - Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division, National Child Labor Committee Collection
Sander's photograph depicts three young farmers, dressed up as city dandies in suits with hats and canes, on their way to a Saturday night dance in the Westerwald region of Germany (where Sander was born). An incongruous effect is created by the contrast between their fashionable appearance and the setting with its muddy path and vast fields in the background. Looking for new clients, Sander returned to the region in 1910 after establishing his studio in Cologne. One evening, by chance, he encountered the three men moving along the road and asked them to pose for the lengthy exposure required by his large format camera. The two men on the right echo each other's still pose, while, the man on the left, caught in midstride, his cane at an angle, and a cigarette in his mouth, seems to have just paused for a moment to turn to look at the viewer. As a result Sander's most famous image takes on qualities of both a formal photo and a snapshot, while at the same time as cultural historian Michael Jennings wrote it documents the "momentum of the transition away from the land and into the cities."
Like much of Sander's work, the image, juxtaposing the young men's posing as urban dandies with the marshy and vacant fields, conveys a sense of the dissonant in ordinary life, a quality that later influenced the photographer Diane Arbus. The frontal shot, suggesting the three have been stopped by the camera's gaze, is also informed by a modernist awareness of the role that the observer/photographer plays in creating the image. As the historian Wieland Schmied wrote, Sander "sought to combine constructivism and objectivity, geometry and object, the general and the particular, avant-garde conviction and political engagement, and which perhaps approximated most to the forward looking of New Objectivity."
Considered the greatest German portrait photographer of the early 20th century, Sander spent most of his life working on his People of the Twentieth Century, a documentary project to produce the representational types of Weimar Germany. Striving to create "a physiognomic image of an age," cataloguing "all the characteristics of the universally human," and depicting the seven categories, which he based upon class and occupation, Sander meant to document a nation. Though the project was not completed, due to Nazi suppression of his work, he published Face of Our Time (1929), a collection of sixty portraits including Three Farmers. His portraits influenced photographers including Walker Evans and Irving Penn, and this picture directly inspired Richard Powers's debut novel, Three Farmers on Their Way to a Dance (1985), and the art critic John Berger's "The Suit and the Photograph" (1980), a highly influential essay upon art theory and criticism.
Gelatin silver print - Tate Museum of Modern Art, London
Une vitrine Avenue des Gobelins à Paris
Atget's image depicts a storefront window where fashionably dressed male manikins stand amid displays of men's trousers and reflections of the vacant Paris street, with its tall buildings and leafy trees. The forms and their reflections comingle, creating a play upon the perception of reality, as the manikins seem to stand within the clothing display while they also seem to emerge from the city street, much like window-shoppers looking in.
Atget's work - championed in the 1920s by the likes of Man Ray, Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso, and André Derain - became particularly influential on the Surrealists. Man Ray felt Atget's photographs of shop windows were intuitively surrealist and began collecting his photographs, using During the Eclipse (1912), a photograph of a crowd gathered to view an eclipse, for the cover of the Surrealist's magazine, La Révolution Surréaliste. A humble man who viewed himself very much as a documentarian (rather than an artist), Atget, granted permission for the use of his photograph with the stipulation: "Don't put my name on it."
On discovering Atget's photographs for herself, Man Ray's assistant, Berenice Abbot, soon to become a renowned photographer in her own right, became a lifelong champion of his work, promoting its publication in America and preserving his archives. In 1968 she sold his collection to the Museum of Modern Art declaring that Atget "will be remembered as an urbanist historian, a genuine romanticist, a lover of Paris, a Balzac of the camera, from whose work we can weave a large tapestry of French civilization." Photographers from Ansel Adams to Walker Evans and Lee Friedlander cited Atget as a signature influence.
Albumen silver print from glass negative - Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Migrant Mother, Nipomo, California
This image, one of the most iconic of all documentary photographs, shows a woman in a migrant pea-pickers camp. Their faces turned away from the camera, her two young children cling to her, as she holds an infant, swaddled in a worn blanket, and looks somberly, her face lined with worry, into the distance. The photograph was originally captioned "Destitute pea pickers in California. Mother of seven children. Age thirty-two. Nipomo, California" and was one of several images that Lange took of Florence Owens Thompson and her family in their makeshift camp.
The Dust Bowl farming disaster in particular had had devastating effects upon all aspects of American life with the poorer classes facing the direst situations and the FSA's documentary project supported the social reform programs of the Roosevelt administration. Lange's photographs appeared in a 1936 issue of the San Francisco News, following a story highlighting the near starvation conditions in the camp, and contributed to the success of the relief effort. Stryker felt Lange's image symbolized the entire project, as he said, Migrant Mother "has all the suffering of mankind in her but all of the perseverance too. A restraint and a strange courage. You can see anything you want to in her. She is immortal."
Referring to the photograph's historical significance, art historian John Szarkowski said "one could do very interesting research about all of the ways that the Migrant Mother has been used; all of the ways that it has been doctored, painted over, made to look Spanish and Russian; and all the things it has been used to prove." Reproduced in textbooks, postage stamps, political campaigns, and museum displays, the image has become not only a symbol of the Great Depression, but, as historian Robert Hariman and John Louis Lucaites wrote, "a template for images of want [and a] powerful statements on behalf of democracy's promise of social and economic justice."
Gelatin silver print - Museum of Modern Art, New York
Alabama Tenant Farmer Wife (Allie Mae Burroughs)
Evans's iconic photograph depicts Allie Mae Burroughs, the wife of an Alabama cotton sharecropper and mother of four. She is standing just in front of the family's cabin wall, facing the viewer directly, engaging our look. Only twenty-seven years old, but worn down by work and worry, her expression conveys the hard circumstances of her life. The formal composition, framed by the horizontal lines of the wood siding, emphasize the lines of her eyebrows and mouth, and create the effect of a distinctive, but inscrutable, personality, highlighted against a harsh, flat environment. As writer Lincoln Kirstein, wrote: "The power of Evans's work lies in the fact that he so details the effect of circumstances on familiar specimens that the single face, the single house, the single street, strikes with the strength of overwhelming numbers, the terrible cumulative force of thousands of faces, houses, and streets."
Evans was initially drawn to literature, spending 1927 in Paris writing essays and short stories. He turned to photography upon his return to New York in 1928 when he synthesized his interest in irony, narrative, and poetic lyricism with his images. In 1935 he agreed to photograph a community of West Virginia coalminers for the U.S. Department of the Interior and that same year began to work for Fortune magazine. Close friends with the writer James Agee, the two went to Alabama for a feature on sharecroppers in 1936, and lived on and off with three families in Hale County, including the Burroughs. Sharecroppers leased their land, home, farm implements, and livestock and had to give half of their crop to the landlord. As a result of this arrangement, families like the Burroughs often ended the year in debt. During their time with the Burroughs, Evans took four photographs of Allie Mae standing in front of the cabin, each image capturing a distinctive expression.
While Fortune rejected the feature, it was later published as Let Us Now Praise Famous Men (1941), a 500-page volume with Allie Mae featured on its cover. Though the photograph became a classic of both the Depression era and of Documentary Photography per se, and creating a great social statement at the same time, Evans said of the project, "This is pure record not propaganda . . . No politics whatever." Evans was dubbed by the Metropolitan Museum of Art as the "progenitor of the documentary tradition" and his images influenced a new generation of photographers including Robert Frank, Helen Levitt, Lee Friedlander, Diane Arbus, and Bernd and Hilla Becher.
Gelatin Silver Print - Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
In this image that seems to come from an earlier era, a woman, dressed in dark clothing, holds a spindle in one hand and a skein of thread in another, while behind her another woman is attending to her sewing. Kneeling on the floor, arms outstretched with the spindle held up to one side of her face, as she catches the thread between her teeth - the woman has almost the grace of a dancer, her face, composed, concentrated on her art.
Photographed in Spain in 1950, Smith took this image of María Ruiz Rodríguez in Deleitosa, a village of 2,650 people in Extremadura. The residents of the village lived a traditional life, lacking modern conveniences such as indoor plumbing, drainage systems, or telephones. The image was published with 17 other photographs, as Spanish Village, a photo-essay that appeared in Life magazine. It is considered a masterwork of humanist photography, which emphasized the universality of human life and feeling and depicted the aesthetic beauty of ordinary events. Smith said his purpose was "to capture the action of life, the life of the world, its humor, its tragedies, in other words, life as it is. A true picture, unposed and real."
During World War II, Smith worked as a war correspondent, covering 13 invasions in Europe and the Pacific, as well as combat missions. In 1945, he was badly injured by a grenade during the Okinawa invasion and returned home for two years of surgery and recovery. Smith described "The day I again tried for the first time to make a photograph, I could barely load the roll of film into the camera. Yet I was determined that the first photograph would be a contrast to the war photographs and that it would speak an affirmation of life." That first photograph was his Walk to Paradise Garden (1946), showing his two young children emerging from a dark and heavily wooded area, and Smith continued with his "affirmation of life" worldview in subsequent photo-essays.
Gelatin silver print - Museo Centro Nacional de Arte: Reina Sophia, Madrid
Trolley - New Orleans
Frank's photograph depicts a trolley passing by on the streets of New Orleans, as the passengers look out through the bus window. The image conveys a distinct sense of each distinct personality but also a sense of segregation and social power. The contrast between the black reflective sides of the trolley and the white vertical bars dividing the seating sections echoes visually the sense of a society divided by race.
In 1955, while taking photographs of a street parade, Frank saw the trolley passing by and pivoted, just in time, to take this shot before the trolley vanished from view. This image was used as the cover image for early editions of The Americans (1958), where some critics cited it as evidence of Frank's "anti-Americanism." Simultaneously, his pioneering snapshot technique was also attacked, as the UK monthly Practical Photography cited its, "meaningless blur, grain, muddy exposures, drunken horizons and general sloppiness."
The book, as art critic Sean O'Hagen wrote, "challenged all the formal rules laid down by Henri Cartier-Bresson and Walker Evans, whose work Frank admired but saw no reason to emulate. More provocatively, his images flew in the face of the wholesome pictorialism and heartfelt Photojournalism of American magazines like Life and Time. The Americans was shocking - and enduringly influential - because it simply showed things as they were. 'I was tired of romanticism,' Frank told me, 'I wanted to present what I saw, pure and simple.'"
Growing up in Zurich, Frank moved to New York in 1947 where he worked at Harper's Bazaar under art director Alexey Brodovitch. Uneasy with the constraints of fashion photography, he traveled to South America where he took photographs in remote villages and lived hand to mouth. Returning to New York in 1950, he met Edward Steichen who included some of his images of Peru in 52 American Photographers, an exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art. Following the exhibition, Walker Evans became a mentor and supporter of Frank's work. In 1955 a Guggenheim Fellowship allowed Frank to undertake a series of American road trips. While he took around 28,000 images, only 83 black and white photographs were included in The Americans, which was published in France in 1958 before appearing in America the following year. As O'Hagen noted, "it changed the nature of photography, what it could say and how it could say it," and "remains perhaps the most influential photography book of the 20th century." Frank influenced Jeff Wall, Ed Ruscha, Diane Arbus, Lee Friedlander, and many other subsequent photographers.
Gelatin silver print - Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, Texas
This photograph focuses on a corner of a motel room, its dark emptiness illuminated by a television screen which displays an extreme close-up of a woman's smiling face. Cropped at her eyebrows and lower lip, her animated expression fills the entire screen. Behind the television a man's shirt, implying the photographer's presence, hangs on the upper corner of a closet or bathroom door.
The photograph was part of Friedlander's Little Screens, a series where the portable television, a new phenomenon at the time, featured prominently in his images of sterile and lonely motel environments. Walker Evans introduced these shots, which appeared as a photo-essay in a 1963 issue of Harper's Bazaar, as "deft, witty, spanking little poems of hate." Friedlander adopted a snapshot approach that artist Martha Rosler described as conveying "casualness" and "ordinariness," while at the same time bringing together "disparate elements and image fragments." Friedlander did not posit his work within a political or cultural context but said, "I think private moments make the interesting picture." Friedlander became a leading figure in New Documents photography that emerged in the late 1960s. As art historian Lisa Hostetler suggested his work possessed "a constant awareness of the photographer's relationship to the picture plane and places at least as much importance on it as on the image's ostensible subject."
Gelatin silver print - Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Mujer Ángel (Angel Woman), Sonora Desert
This image depicts an indigenous woman of the Seri people. She is wearing a long white billowing skirt, her long hair trailing down her back as she emerges from a rocky hillside, the vast desert of Northern Mexico extending before her. In her right hand she carries a boom box and her left hand holds what appears to be a makeshift cane or a staff. The rocky hillside cuts a diagonal across the photograph from the upper right to the lower left, dividing the image into two triangles so that the woman's figure dominates the view. As a result she seems somehow mythical and archetypal. Because the shot is taken from below, it is as if we were following her, as she strides forward energetically, powerful with mysterious purpose.
In 1978 the Ethnographic Archive of the National Indigenous Institute of Mexico commissioned Iturbide to work on a series about the Seri people who live along the Arizona/Mexico border in the Sonoran desert. At the time that she took this photograph she was living in Punta Chueca, a community of 500 people. Iturbide described how, "On the day of this particular image, I went with a group to a cave where there are indigenous paintings. I took just one picture of this woman during the walk there. I call her Mujer Ángel [Angel Woman], because she looks as if she could fly off into the desert. She was carrying a tape recorder, which the Seris got from the Americans, in exchange for handicrafts such as baskets and carvings, so they could listen to Mexican music." Accordingly Iturbide has described this photo as representing "the transition between their traditional way of life, and the way capitalism has changed it."
The 2008 Hasselblad Award cited Iturbide as "one of the most important and influential Latin American photographers of the past four decades," as she "extended the concept of documentary photography, to explore the relationships between man and nature, the individual and the cultural, the real and the psychological." Beginning in the 1970s she has worked primarily on ethnographic series that focus on a particular culture, saying, "I seek to trap life in the reality that surrounds me, remembering that my dreams, my symbols, and my imagination are part of that life."
After the death of her six-year-old daughter in 1970, Iturbide turned to photography and studied with Manuel Álvarez Bravo who became her mentor. Using a Straight Photographic approach to combine Social Realism and Surrealism, his style influenced her, but she has primarily credited his example, saying, "Álvarez Bravo taught me another way to live." She has said of this image, "It's my favorite photograph, because I don't remember taking it. Maybe it was some kind of spirit out there that took it." Her work has received great contemporary interest, as shown by her 2018 retrospective Graciela Iturbide's Mexico at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts and a book length monograph.
Gelatin silver print - Philadelphia Museum of Art, Philadelphia
Misty and Jimmy Paulette in a taxi, NYC
This portrait depicts, Scott Andrew as Misty, a well-known drag queen who performed as Miss Demeanor, and Jimmy Paulette, best known later as a hairstylist for Vogue. The pair are framed by the taxi's rear and side window against the backdrop of New York. The camera's flash creates a kind of spotlight effect as it highlights their blue and gold wigs, Misty's tight black pvc top, Paulette's gold bra and the contrast of their dark eyes and red lips against their pale skin. Open to interpretation, the photograph has been seen by some critics as depicting the two on their way home after an "all-nighter" while others have seen them as working performers, in a quiet moment, on their way to a performance. However, as Paulette later explained, the "photo of Scott and I in the back of the cab is us on the way to the [Pride] parade, about 12:00 noon." For her part, Goldin said of the image that "I wanted to pay homage, to show them how beautiful they were. I never saw them as men dressing up as women, but as something entirely different - a third gender that made more sense than either of the other two. I accepted them as they saw themselves; I had no desire to unmask them with my camera." As a result, the portrait conveys a sense of distinctive personality, confident, even defiant with self-definition.
With Mark Morrisroe and David Armstrong, Goldin was part of the so-called "Boston School". The school promoted a snapshot aesthetic, creating grainy and poorly lit portraits in an attempt to convey a sense of intimate authenticity. Goldin was influenced by Brassaï 's images of Paris' hidden night life, and by contemporary underground films like Jack Smith's Flaming Creatures (1961) which celebrated the New York camp scene. In the 1970s she began taking photographs of her gay friends - quite often glamorously dressed up as constructed identities - in the home, and at the Other Side, a gay bar in Boston. Her first book The Ballad of Sexual Dependency (1981) documented heterosexual relationships, though she continued to socialize with, and photograph, the gay community. "I met a whole new crowd of queens in N.Y. in 1990 ... My old obsession was reawakened," she said, "I developed one fixation after another. I photographed my new friends constantly ... After years of experiencing and photographing the struggle of the two genders with their codes and definitions and their difficulties in relating to each other, it was liberating to meet people who had crossed these gender boundaries."
This image was included in her book, The Other Side (1993) named for her hometown bar, which included color photographs of drag queens in New York, Berlin and Paris, Goldin said of the book "the pictures [...] are not of people suffering gender dysphoria but rather expressing gender euphoria."
Photograph, colour, Cibachrome print, on paper mounted onto board - Tate Modern Museum, London
Iceberg Between Paulet Island and the South Shetland Islands in the Antarctic Peninsula
Salgado's photograph depicts an iceberg, its jagged form, floating on a dark sea beneath a sky of luminous and foreboding clouds. A little off center, a large opening in the iceberg evokes an arched entrance or a keyhole, while on the upper right, the ice takes on a perpendicular shape, creating thus a sense of the form as carved perhaps by powerful architectural forces. The light becomes a material presence, as art critic Laura Cummings wrote, "Salgado's habitual monochrome runs all the way from coal black to silver and burning white, with a thousand tones of grey in between. The lighting is characteristically spectacular, with plenty of backlighting and operatic contrasts." Commenting on Salgado's aesthetic preferences, Cummings notes that "Nothing can have absolute or accidental priority in monochrome, nothing can leap out simply by virtue of its colour. Black and white puts everything on equal footing, on the same planet."
Raised in Brazil, Salgado initially worked as an economist before taking up photography in 1973. For two decades, working with Magnum and other agencies, he traveled the world, photographing images such as workers subjected to brutal conditions, the effects of global migration, and the wars in Bosnia and Rwanda. In 1999, he had a psychological and artistic crisis. As he described it, "I had seen so much brutality. I didn't trust anymore in anything. I didn't trust in the survival of our species."
He inherited his father's Brazilian ranch during the same period, and with his wife, Lélia, turned to restoring what Salgado called "a dead land." Art critic Richard Lacavo wrote, it became, "a kind of dual restoration project - for himself and his Brazilian paradise lost [...] As his personal world regenerated, Salgado got an idea: For his next project, why not travel to unspoiled locales - places that double as environmental memory banks, holding recollections of earth's primordial glories?"
Salgado included 200 photographs in Genesis, a photographic exhibition that toured worldwide, and a book (of the same name) published in 2013, both of which were met with critical and public acclaim. In 2014 filmmaker Wim Wenders and Juliano Ribeiro Salgado, the photographer's son, filmed The Salt of the Earth, a documentary focused on Salgado's life and work.
Gelatin silver print - Sundaram Tagore Gallery, New York