minniev wrote:
I think there’s a lot of different reactions to the notion of “story”. I’m a waffler on that concept. I love images that cause me to imagine a story, but I don’t always think of what story I’m trying to tell when I capture an image, I’m more often just responding to the visual.
The story of a photograph can be quite explicit and easy to detect, as is the case with journalistic or documentary photography. But oftentimes it's not a narrative type of story that a photograph tells.
With these photos, Abbott had dedicated herself to what would become her best-known project, "Changing New York" (1935-39). Commissioned by the Roosevelt administration as part of its response to the nationwide economic crisis, Abbott saw the enterprise as both a way of documenting the City and as a personal work of art.
In 1938, hoping to take advantage of the fifty million visitors expected at the New York World’s Fair of 1939, the publisher, E.P. Dutton, offered to bring out a selection of one hundred images from the project accompanied by a text by the renowned art critic Elizabeth McCausland, who also happened to be Abbott’s life partner. Eventually, the book turned out to be more of a tourist guide, and McCausland's text was edited down to bare information about the various buildings. The original captions, however, do tell quite a story.
The Flatiron Building, while being a source of pride for New Yorkers when it was built in 1902, was also a source of anxiety, since people felt it was unstable and likely to fall down at any moment. McCausland captures this in her text, which did not get published: "Staggering before the onslaught of the buses, taxis and motor cars which unceasingly pour down Fifth Avenue and Broadway to converge at the Flatiron Building, it seems about to topple over, a modern Tower of Pisa. The emotion generated by its precarious attitude is amusing and also a little terrifying, as if the denizen of the city realized but would not confess the frailty and impermanence of its structures."
Of the two photos, the first, to me, tells this story more than the second, paradoxically because it doesn't include the traffic mentioned in the caption. The prominent building, bold and assertive, is also strangely vulnerable due to its angle and that of its diminutive neighbor with the paint sign.
The worm's-eye-view of the first image fortifies this impression. What little architectural photography I do always has this point of view, probably because I'm too lazy to climb a lot of stairs, or too cheap to hire a helicopter.
Here's one of my images that tries to tell the story of a dialogue, or is it an argument, between an office building and a humble street sign.