My Review of Robert Frank

cd thacker · April 19, 2003

About two weeks ago I took a notion to write an article reviewing

some photo-related books that I felt were, for one reason or another,

of particular interest. Actually, the notion occured to me some time

ago and I finally acted on it. I found the whole process of writing

it to be even more enjoyable than I'd expected; and I can already

tell that it's helped my photography.

Following is an excerpt from that article. The excerpt deals with

Robert Frank's book Black White and Things. I've read much of

the critical literature on Frank's work . . . and found it mostly

wanting. To my knowledge no one has discussed this book in quite

such detail, nor approached Frank's work as a whole in quite the way

I feel it warrants. So this is my attempt to rectify that - a

beginning, anyway. I post it here because, of course, Frank was (is)

a Leica photographer. And because I am eager to get the discussion

going.

The article this is excerpted from is called Berek's Dog,

Seeing Rightly, and a Bottle of Scotch. The other books

discussed in the article are: Darkroom (published by Ralph

Gibson's Lustrum Press); Open City: Street Photography

Since 1950 (National Gallery of Art / Scalo); and

A History of The Photographic Lens by Rudolf Kingslake.

I suppose I could shop it around to various journals; but I prefer to

see it put up here on Photo.net. Since the article is too long,

really, to be appropriate in a forum, I sent it a few days back to

Brian Mottorshead for consideration. Brian, however, is as you might

imagine a super busy guy, what with keeping this site up and all

that; so I expect he could use some encouragement. If you'd like to

read the balance of this article, elsewhere on this site, drop Brian

a note.

Meanwhile, here is the excerpt. I look forward to your comments.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Every

once in

awhile I dive into the deep, deep black pool of Robert

Frank.<span

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> And, whenever I do, I always emerge

it seems

with more � and less � than I had on entry.

His Aperture

monograph, <i

style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>Robert Frank, is a good place

to get

wet; but, the monograph being something of a hodgepodge � lacking

cohesiveness

and direction � <a

href=http://www.nga.gov/images/shops/30005490f.jpg>Black White and

Things</a>

is a far better place. Better

because of

its larger format and superior printing; better also because the

images

together form a single work.

<i style='mso-bidi-font-

style:normal'>Black

White and Things began, the publisher tells us, in 1952 as a

spiral-bound

volume put together by Frank himself, in three copies - each

containing

identical original prints.

Frank gave

one copy to Edward Steichen, one to his

parents, and

kept the third for himself (until 1990, when he donated it to the

National

Gallery of Art in

<st1:State><st1:place>Washington</st1:place></st1:State>).

For me perhaps the most

interesting

thing about this work is how utterly independent it seems of the era

in which

it was made. The photographs,

fifty

years after the fact, have lost none of their freshness and knife�s

edge vitality.<span

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Today, when, as Henri Cartier-

Bresson

recently said, �every Tom, Dick, and Harry is a photographer,� Frank

shows in

this book not how it is

done,

exactly, but that it can be.

In his work � this book in

particular � Frank does what I�ve always had in mind for myself: make

a group

of images that are so definitive, there is no pressing need to make

more; then,

move on to something else (filmmaking in his case).

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'>Many

of these images, with their impressionistic, mysterious mists and

pointillist-like grain, evoke for me nothing so much as the work of

<a

href=http://www.metmuseum.org/special/photography2001/12.L.htm>Clarenc

e H.

White</a>; as well as, to a lesser degree, that of Alfred <span

class=SpellE>Stieglitz

and Edward Steichen � Photo-Secessionists

all; with

the difference being in part that Frank�s work is wholly honest and,

in its own

way, straightforward: stripped of all the Victorian romanticism and

pretensions

to retrograde art that characterized much of the earlier <span

class=SpellE>pictorialism

(especially the Photo-Secession; White was likely least guilty of

this).<span

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Not for nothing then that Frank

gave a copy

to Steichen.

(Some of Frank�s images bring to mind famous paintings, as

well � in

particular, the flâneur view of <span

class=SpellE>Gustave

Caillebotte�s �<a

href=http://psych.hanover.edu/Krantz/art/paris.jpg>Paris Street;

Rainy Day</a>�, and the high

stylization of Seurat�s �<a

href=http://www.cdaccess.com/jpg/shared/front/large/seurat.jpg>A

Sunday on La Grande <span

class=SpellE>Jatte � 1984</a>� � but without the bourgeois

stuffing!) (I use

the term �bourgeois�, as Vladimir Nabokov

once said,

in the Flaubertian sense, not the Marxian

one.)

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'><span

style='mso-tab-count:1'> The absence of romanticism

and

pretense here isn�t the only thing that separates this work from the

Pictorial

photography of old. The photos

of <i

style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>Black White and Things, like

all of

Frank�s work, were shot on the fly and are often characterized by odd

angles

and unusual perspectives; yet in none of them is this gratuitous �

or, if

gratuitous, not without impact.

This is

impulse shooting, but impulse shooting controlled � keyed-in, with

exquisite

sensitivity, to forms, movement, gesture, shadow, light; and to how

all of

these together make a palette of manifold possibilities for

character, in the

landscape of the perceiving, performing eye.<span style='mso-

spacerun:yes'>

The character conveyed is throughout the book changing �

sometimes

haunting and heavy (a woman, somewhat wild-eyed, looking up from

shrouds of

shadow, the faint trace of a smile on her face); sometimes light but

still

haunting (the silhouette of a man, in bowler and topcoat, walking

alone among

mists and trees in mild shades of grey) � and the resulting feeling

is one of

movement and dynamism. This

varying,

continuous tempo is key to the work as a

whole and

prefigures Frank�s move into cinema.

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'><span

style='mso-tab-count:1'> Of interest then, as

mentioned

earlier, is picture selection � necessarily the final key in

photography, for

it gives a body of work, whether one shot or many, its shape,

texture, and

posture in relation to the planet.

<i

style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>Black White and Things was put

together

just before the period of The

Americans

and covers much (perhaps all) of the geography Frank had shot in:

there are

images from throughout <st1:place>Europe</st1:place>,

<st1:place>South America</st1:place>,

and the <st1:country-region><st1:place>U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-

region>

(some of which were later to appear in the latter book).<span

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> In this context it is made clear,

<span

class=GramE>if it wasn�t before, that the pictures comprising <i

style='mso-bidi-font-style:normal'>The Americans were not

intended as a

criticism of the <st1:country-region><st1:place><span

class=GramE>U.S.</st1:place></st1:country-region><span

class=GramE> in particular; and that in fact picking out a single

country for

concerted criticism was quite beyond Frank, or quite beneath

him.<span

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Rather, in his work Frank was

(inadvertently

perhaps) doing the <st1:place>New World</st1:place> the favor of

integrating it

into the old one; of merging them together into a world of multiple

facets and

attributes; but with only one name, his own.<span style='mso-

spacerun:yes'>

(Which is the most any of us can ever do.)

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'><span

style='mso-tab-count:1'> This is <i style='mso-bidi-

font-style:

normal'>not the nihilism (�Nothing is true, everything is

permitted�) Frank

has often been accused of (wrongly, in my view).<span

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Rather, what is implied in his work

is simply

this: If you are true, the

world is

likewise. That is what�s

permitted.

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'><span

style='mso-tab-count:1'> With this in mind I ask

myself, what

is the essential thing that makes the work of <i style='mso-bidi-font-

style:

normal'>Black White and Things so compelling?<span

style='mso-spacerun:yes'> Even to ask the question requires

looking,

looking, and looking again.

And I find

the answer here, in an epigram to the book: a quote from Saint-<span

class=SpellE>Exupery.

It reads,

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'><o:p> </o:p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'><span

style='mso-tab-count:1'> <span style='mso-tab-

count:1'> It

is only with the heart that one can see rightly

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'><span

style='mso-tab-count:1'> <span style='mso-tab-

count:1'> What

is essential is invisible to the eye

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'><o:p> </o:p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-

autospace:none'><span

style='mso-tab-count:1'> By refusing to serve

social issues

or observe national boundaries � and by managing to see with the

heart (in this

he remains arguably the most <span

class=GramE>internationalist of

photographers) � Frank, rather than leveling the world, elevates the

psyche to

the level of (greater) self-awareness and recognition of itself in

others

everywhere. And that, after

all, is the

job of art.

Alex_Es · April 19, 2003

Doug,

This is quite good. I'd be happy if Photo Net published this.

Alex

pcg · April 19, 2003

Doug,

I think your conclusion about the 'job of art' is indicative of romanticism on yr part, &

is rank opinion in an attempt to end the article on an upbeat note.

Art serves many functions, & is as varied as human beings. There is, & never has

been, one artisitc function or universal definition.

Art may be uplifting, may be exploratory, may be destructive. Let's not try to fit Frank

into a box. His work has been interpreted many ways. A great artist's work speaks

differently to different people.

art waldschmidt · April 19, 2003

An interestingly written review, Doug.

Nice juxtaposition of thoughts and observations. Possibly the most useful thing that remains for the reader from any review is the freshening of one's own perspective, or some fascination with material that may be inspired (vicariously) by the author's own fascination or inquiry.

My own (relative) unfamiliarity with Frank's work disqualifies me from contrary opinions or wholesale agreement. In any event, I don't approach critiques or reviews with the hope of confronting absolutes, but often as opportunities to test my own variety of understanding.

If anything truly enduring or axiomatic has been left as the residuum of 30+ years of investigating artworld rhetoric - it is (undoubtedly) this: *the thinner the work, the thicker the academic fog that enshrouds it*.

art waldschmidt · April 19, 2003

I would also recommend that Photo. Net publish the entire article.

cd thacker · April 19, 2003

Just got in from work, expecting to find here . . . something - who knows what? A lively discussion, maybe. But maybe we don't have those anymore here, unless it's about a topic that has been recently covered on Fox News. Or maybe I just need to participate closely on this one.

Alex, Thanks for the vote of confidence. It means a lot from you, whose opinion I have come to have reason to respect. (By the way, I finally picked up a copy of Asahi Camera a few weeks ago. About $7.00 I think and much thicker with pages than our popular western mags. I liked some of the pictures, and only wondered if they look as pedestrian to the Japanese eye as the pictures in western mags usually look to us. there was also quite a bit of info, it appeared, about various Leica Ms - but of course i couldn't read it.)

Patrick, Thanks for your contribution to the discussion. Let me try to take your points one at a time.

I think your conclusion about the 'job of art' is indicative of romanticism on yr part, & is rank opinion

Why? Is it romantic because of its positive outlook; because it asserts an essential nature for art; or both? Without specifics the tag "romantic" doesn't mean much. In fact it isn't even an objection. "Rank opinion" is precisely a name - such as "romantic" - that hasn't been provided support of any kind.

If art is an essential human activity - and historically, like language, like science, it has been - then there must be something essential about this activity that we can devine. To obscure this essence (whatever it might be) with the various uses art has been put to is in the end to deny that art has any true, meaningful value; a philistine objection to art, in other words. True, art has the value we lend to it; but as an eternal pursuit of humanity, it also has a value we are only vaguely conscious of, one independent of our consciousness. Nothing romantic about that. It's called psychology. It's also called spiritual life - not spiritual in the popular sense of organised religion; but spiritual in the sense of psychic health (vitality) and the growth of awareness.

in an attempt to end the article on an upbeat note.

Actually, this wasn't the article's end, merely the end of an excerpt. And there is nothing upbeat, necessarily, about awareness - as many of Frank's images will bear out, awareness can be a double-edged sword. Not for nothing that most of us float in a sea of only partial awareness; to face yourself - and the world about you - is not always a wholly pleasant thing.

Art serves many functions, & is as varied as human beings. There is, & never has been, one artisitc function or universal definition.

See above.

Art may be uplifting, may be exploratory, may be destructive.

Indeed. It may be all of those things and more - all of them a necessary outcome, at some point, of its essence - just like the human beings who produce it.

Let's not try to fit Frank into a box. His work has been interpreted many ways. A great artist's work speaks differently to different people.

Everything speaks differently to different people. If critical exegesis has any value at all; or, for that, if looking and trying to explain has value at all; it can only be on agreement that there is an essence to be pierced and obtained. This has nothing to do with fitting something into a box - there is no box large enough for this work, in any case -; it has everything to do with trying to arrive at understanding shared experience; at explainig, in other words, just what it is that makes Frank the artist great, as you say. The relativist idea that one interpretation carries as much weight as the next doesn't bear up under very much scrutiny: some interpretations (of anything you care to name) are plainly wrong; others, less wrong. Some might even approximate reliably what they examine.

cd thacker · April 19, 2003

Thanks Art. You must have written yours while I was writing mine.

Possibly the most useful thing that remains for the reader from any review is the freshening of one's own perspective, or some fascination with material that may be inspired (vicariously) by the author's own fascination or inquiry. [. . .] I don't approach critiques or reviews with the hope of confronting absolutes, but often as opportunities to test my own variety of understanding.

I agree. That, to me, is the job of inquiry (criticism, philosophy); and almost the best possible outcome, really. That was why I wrote this piece; and that was the purpose I hoped it would serve.

If anything truly enduring or axiomatic has been left as the residuum of 30+ years of investigating artworld rhetoric - it is (undoubtedly) this: *the thinner the work, the thicker the academic fog that enshrouds it*.

Isn't that the truth. What's surprised me, though, especially in view of this sad fact, is how minimal, in volume but also especially in insight, the critical treatment of photography is on the whole. At least, in comparison with the more traditional arts. Which tells me that photography is still an open field, both for execution and discussion.

Helmut Newton said recently, "This fine art crap is going to kill photography. It's already starting to happen." But I don't think it has to be that way. And in any case it hasn't killed painting quite yet.

Alex_Es · April 19, 2003

And Thank you Doug for the good word.

There is an awful amount of CRUD (Careless Redundant Unbearable Dreck) in Asahi Camera and Nippon Camera, along with good work as well. The "my home town" stuff is usually the pits. Not up to Robert Frank, who has been published in both magazines. A Leica photographer in the US, acting on my suggestion, sent some great Cuba photos to Asahi and got back a snitty reply about how the editor "has 250 photographers to deal with" and so forget it. My friend was soon published in Leica Fotogrfie. Forget Asahi for your Robert Frank article, even if translated into Japanese.

Again, I have to say your article is very good and I do hope Brian Moore does publish you. You could try the English version of Leica Fotographie. See what their rules for submission are or send a query. They will probably limit you to around 3000 word or less (a quick n' dirty guess).

Keep us posted.

Best,

Alex

cd thacker · April 20, 2003

Thanks for the suggestion, Alex. I think I will expand on the article a bit, then shop it around. Leica Fotographie might be a good first choice.

My hopes of contributing to the vitality of photo.net are finally drawing to a close. My emails to Brian (Mottorshead, not Moore) are seldom answered (and when they are, not without my persistent pestering), and not too many participants on the site seem interested in discussing photography in depth. Recently someone on this site (I forget just who) complained that photo.net had become Popular Photography. I disagreed at the time, more out of hope than conviction. But I'm beginning to see their point.

In any event, there's certainly nothing wrong, per se, with Popular Photography (I read it myself, often). But in appealing to so many, it has to exclude a great deal. That very great deal which I'm most interested in.

It would be unfair to that magazine, and to its intent, to expect of it anything substantive, or responsivness to real critical inquiry. Only a fool would insist on having such expectations. Maybe the same goes here.

art waldschmidt · April 20, 2003

Doug, approaching Leica Fotografie, as Alex suggested, might be something to pursue - at the same time why not consider some other publications? - maybe Art in America (for example) - the quality of your writing seems more than commensurate with any standards they might consider in the selection process. (Heck, if either publication would print it, I'd certainly be tempted to re-subscribe!)

I've read portions of the excerpt repeatedly - your writing certainly deserves (and rewards) a thoughtful and careful consideration.

Sign In

My Review of Robert Frank

Recommended Posts

cd thacker

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Alex_Es

Link to comment

Share on other sites

pcg

Link to comment

Share on other sites

art waldschmidt

Link to comment

Share on other sites

art waldschmidt

Link to comment

Share on other sites

cd thacker

Link to comment

Share on other sites

cd thacker

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Alex_Es

Link to comment

Share on other sites

cd thacker

Link to comment

Share on other sites

art waldschmidt

Link to comment

Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

Create an account

Sign in

Explore

Forums

Learn

Job Opportunities