Robert Frank & Gordon Parks: Depicting Segregation & The Future of Black America at the Cultural Turning Point of the 1950’s

University of Amsterdam Graduate School of Humanities MA thesis History: American Studies Lars van der Peet Student number: 10319204 [email protected] Thesis advisor: R. Janssens June 30 2020

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Content

Title page 1

Content 2

Introduction 3-7

Chapter 1.1: Chapter 1: The Historiographical Discussion 8-12 of Civil Rights Photography

Chapter 1.2: Analytical Methodology & Photograph Selection 13-19

Chapter 2: The Status Quo: Depictions of Everyday 20-30 Segregation in the photography of Robert Frank & Gordon Parks

Chapter 3: Differing Visions, The Future of Black America 31-43 Through the Eyes of Robert Frank & Gordon Parks

Conclusion: Robert Frank’s & Gordon Parks’ 44-46 Visions in Contemporary America

Literature 47-48

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Introduction Robert Frank & Gordon Parks are both regarded as some of the most influential and defining photographers of the second half of the last century. As Frank passed away in September 2019, The New York Times heralded him “The most influential living photographer upon his death at age 94. He produced a book, The Americans that changed the rules of documentary photography” (Lubow). Meanwhile Gordon Parks was the first African American photographer to work at Life magazine and after that also the first African American to direct, write and produce a major Hollywood film. At first glance they seem to be very different photographers, at least regarding their backgrounds. One was a wealthy, bourgeoise, Swiss born, Jewish photographer that would later travel the United States and document it “through European eyes” (Frank, Guggenheim Application). Another one was an African-American, born in poverty and subject to segregation and racism in the South. Although many photographers of the era collaborated or interacted with each other there is scarcely a source that mentions the two meeting, much less collaborating. Robert Frank for example was well acquainted with other influential American photographers such as Edward Steichen, Alexander Lieberman and Walker Evans, who also where backers for his Guggenheim application. Alexander Stuart, who wrote a thesis about the criticisms of Robert Frank’s The Americans, wrote: “Evans convinced Frank to apply for the fellowship and served as a sponsor” (27). Evans also was an inspiration to Gordon Parks’ photography. Wing Young Huie in the foreword of A Choice of Weapons, Gordon Parks’ memoir, writes: “He describes how browsing through magazines with images by Farm Security Administration photographers Russel Lee, Walker Evans, and Dorothea Lange changed his life” (ix). Frank’s and Parks’ careers and photography also overlap in various ways. Both photographers would shoot for Life magazine. Both would move to create cinema later in their careers. Both would, through their photography in the fifties present a scathing critique of America’s social and racial issues. They did this in a decade that at that time was experienced as a decade of economic prosperity and social and cultural unity. Gordon Parks would do this throughout his career with projects like Harlem Gang Leader and most important to this thesis, his segregation project in 1956 which would become the Life article, The Restraints: Open and Hidden. During this project he documented segregation and racism in Alabama. Meanwhile Robert Frank travelled through America after being awarded the Guggenheim Fellowship in 1955. Photographing the United States throughout this year would cumulate in his photography book The Americans.

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In his application for the Guggenheim Fellowship, Robert Frank wrote: “The project that I have in mind, will shape itself as it proceeds, and is essentially elastic”. The prestigious Guggenheim fellowship is a grant awarded to those, as is now also stated on their website, "who have demonstrated exceptional capacity for productive scholarship or exceptional creative ability in the arts." (John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation). Frank seems to have an open nonchalance to the purpose of his project. As he said, “it will shape itself as it proceeds” (Frank, Guggenheim Application). This project would eventually become The Americans, today widely seen as one of the most influential photography projects of the 1950’s and maybe the last century. Professor of History at California Polytechnic State University, George Cotkin wrote: “Few analysts have captured the sadness, tensions, ironies and possibilities of 1950’s American culture and society with the depth and insight of Robert Frank” (19). The broad intention of Robert Frank to simply document America, without indicating towards a specific goal illustrates a distaste to analyzing the meaning of his own photographical work that I will discuss, later in this thesis. As Frank states in his Guggenheim application, “What I have in mind, then is observation and record what one naturalized American finds to see in the United States that signifies the kind of civilization born here and spreading elsewhere” (Frank, Guggenheim Application). Robert Frank doesn’t like to verbally define the meaning of his photography. Instead he likes to let the work itself speak volumes. However he is ambitious towards creating work of meaning; “The uses of my project would be sociological, historical and aesthetic” (Frank, Guggenheim Application), and although he in no way indicates it in his application, the Americans would become a scathing critique of various societal problems in America like class, culture and racial relations. This was similar to Gordon Parks, although Parks was much more outspoken regarding the intention of his work from the very beginning. Gordon Parks, in his own words, gravitated towards photography as a weapon against poverty, racism and discrimination. Gordon Parks is quoted on the cover of his own memoir A Choice of Weapons: “I chose my camera as a weapon against all the things I dislike about America—poverty, racism, discrimination” (Parks) Something else that binds these two photographers together is that they documented these societal ills, such as segregation, racism and poverty during a decade that was otherwise marked by a sense of social and cultural unity and cohesion. It is thus not a coincidence that Robert Frank’s book The Americans received various negative reviews upon its release in 1959. As Cotkin states, the book was marked as ‘un-American’ and depressing (21), as the photographs showed a depressed America full of societal ills. Simultaneously, as Perry notes:

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“The Americans was perceived to be an attack on not only the period’s photographic standards, but also on its moral values and political beliefs” (2). What she means with this is that after the war, there was an economic boom, the rise of suburban middle-class prosperity and consumer culture. There also was a politics of consensus against the rising threat of the Soviet Union. In other words, America seemed to be doing well and was unified, but Robert Frank showed a sad, alienated America with an undercurrent of class- and racial struggles. How is it then that Frank’s book The Americans is so celebrated today? The societal critique presented by Frank in his photographs was not received well in the fifties, yet became ever more prevalent and celebrated in the sixties and onwards. Before I present the central argument of this thesis, I first want to discuss this cultural turning point between the fifties and sixties. This thesis is a comparative analysis of Robert Frank’s and Gordon Parks’ photography as representational arguments regarding civil rights and the future of black Americans in America, during the cultural turning point of the 1950s and 1960s. In order to make this comparative analysis, it is important to first further explore this cultural turning point and sketch a broader analysis of the US regarding racial relations, photography and culture during this period. We must thus first understand the ‘zeitgeist’ of this period. Only then can we analyze the photography of Robert Frank and Gordon Parks within their cultural and societal contexts. However, as Todd Gitlin, who is an American sociologist and was a political activist for the new left in the sixties argues regarding understanding the ‘zeitgeist’ of a period: “But the zeitgeist is an elusive wind, and the worst temptation is to oversimplify” (11). He further states that the 50s were multiple, differing for Americans of different race, gender, and professions. (12). Gitlin states: “But one thing we know is that the presumably placid, complacent fifties were succeeded by the unsettling sixties. The fifties were in a sense rewritten by the sixties” (12). This quote illustrates one the one hand my argument that there was a significant cultural turning point between the 1950s and the 1960s, one that I will explore further in the first part of this chapter. It also tells us something about understanding history in itself. The way the past, it’s culture, art, morals are seen is, defined by the culture, art and morals of the present. The idea that the presumably placid, complacent fifties were succeeded by the unsettling sixties was written by Todd Gitlin in his book The Sixties: Years of Hope, Days of Rage. However, although this idea is a springboard to develop the central argument of this thesis, it is important to note the broadness of Gitlin’s analysis of the sixties and where it diverges from the focus of this thesis. The contrast between the cultural upheaval of the

5 sixties and the ‘stable, ‘prosperous’ and ‘culturally homogenous’ fifties is visible in various cultural movements, some that mostly fall out of the scope of this thesis. A broad description of the sixties would include the second feminist wave, the civil rights movement, the Vietnam war and its concurrent anti-war protests, and the New Left, the latter Gitlin was deeply involved in. The Sixties: Years of Hope, Days of Rage is an analysis that in many ways draws from the autobiographical experiences of its author, Todd Gitlin. Gitlin was a prominent member of the most important organization that represented the New Left, the SDS or Students for a Democratic Society. To Gitlin, the Students for a Democractic Society organization represents the very core of the sixties. As he argues: “The New Left became the dynamic center of the decade (4). A natural statement for someone so deeply and personally involved within the New Left but not a completely true statement. In a review of the book, Kusmer notices that: “Despite the title, this book is not a general history of the 1960’s” (598). There is a duality in the title where it points to a complete history of the sixties, however ‘Days of Rage’ is actually a reference to a specific demonstration organized by the Weatherman faction which was a particularly militant part of the Students for a Democratic Society. Todd Gitlin’s book therefore primarily focuses on this aspect of the disruptive sixties and it is also here where it already diverges with the central subject of this thesis, the civil rights movement and particularly civil rights photography, focusing on the work of Robert Frank & Gordon Parks. The question then becomes, what is the relevancy of opening this thesis with Todd Gitlin’s book? The answer lies within his first chapter. He begins his book outside of the sixties, in the ‘complacent’, ‘prosperous’ fifties where he explores the ‘seeds’ of the sixties. Beneath the dominant cultural notion of the fifties as a period of post-war economic booming, suburban consumer lifestyle and the culturally homogenous values of the nuclear family, one could find an undercurrent of class struggles and racial discrimination. As I discussed within the first paragraph of this introduction, Gitlin argues that the fifties were multiple, differing for Americans of different races, genders, and professions. (12). This notion, of the underlying tensions that were already noticeable in the fifties as a catalyst for the sixties, is an incredible idea to incorporate in an exploration of photography in the fifties. Photography focused on black Americans and race relations during the decade. This thesis will primarily focus on photography in the fifties, specifically the photography of Gordon Parks and Robert Frank’s photography in The Americans. The historiographical discussions surrounding the civil rights photography of the sixties can become a starting point and a lens through which we can analyze the photography of Parks and Frank in the fifties. Because as Gitlin notes, the

6 fifties in a sense have become shaped by the sixties (12). This argument offers a mode of interpretation of the photography of the fifties that is shaped by the photography of the sixties. In the first chapter of this thesis, I explore the historiographical discussion surrounding the civil rights photography of the sixties, arguing that the two modes of civil rights photography in the sixties discussed, offer a third mode of interpretation through which we can analyze the photography of Gordon Parks & Robert Frank. In analyzing the photography of Robert Frank and Gordon Parks in the fifties I do not only want to illustrate their depiction of segregation and the oppressed societal position of black Americans but also make an argument about their differing visions of the future for black Americans. The fifties can be marked as the last decade of the ‘status quo’ of the Jim Crow segregation era before it erupted in the demonstrations and actions of the civil rights era in the 1960’s. I will argue that Robert Frank and Gordon Parks in their photography during this decade, both not only offered a critique of the societal problems of segregation and racism in the United States, but also offered differing visions for a better future for black Americans. Differing visions that would be part of the cultural debate in the following decades and to this day. The central analytical question this paper then tries to answer is, what vision for the future of black Americans do Robert Frank & Gordon Parks present in their photography during the 1950s?

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Chapter 1: The Historiographical Discussion of Civil Rights Photography In 2011 Martin A. Berger, currently acting dean of the arts and professor of history of art and visual culture at the University of California at Santa Cruz, published his book called Seeing Through Race: A Reinterpretation of Civil Rights Photography. Reviewer Jack Taylor notes that in this book, Berger: “Challenges dominant narratives concerning civil rights photography” (152). The dominant narratives he talks about are the violent images of white southern violence against black victims. Berger accuses northern white progressives of depicting black protesters as inactive victims. “In trying to depict black protesters sympathetically, progressive whites described them as inactive, which in the racial logic of the day equaled normal and safe” (23). As Taylor points out as well, “The problem with these images for Berger is that they frame the narrative in terms of whites being in charge and African Americans as victims of insurmountable oppression” (154). It is civil rights photography as the depiction of the white, violent, southern oppressors against the inactive; blacks that Berger criticizes as photography that keeps enforcing underlying racial values. Berger notes: “The images could then generate sympathetic reaction and incremental reforms for blacks without disturbing the underlying racial values that allowed social inequalities and even violence to continue” (47). It is this criticism of the dominant narratives of civil rights photography that inspired Sara Wood, lecturer in American literature and culture at Birmingham University, to explore civil rights photography that showed more active, albeit subtle black resistance through her essay, “Civil Rights Photography and the Everyday”. But before I explore her work further there is one more aspect of Berger’s book that needs to be discussed. Berger also made the point that to analyze photography, it is not only important to look at the photographs itself, but also at how the photographs were selected. As he remarks: “While the white media could have selected any number of stories to tell they consistently framed the story as a narrative of spectacular violence” (3). Berger thus argues that the way the white media selected the photographs influenced the narrative these photographs told, one of black passive victimhood and either white oppression or white sympathy. Jack Taylor therefore notes about Berger’s argument surrounding the importance of photograph selection: “The selection of photographs makes the story what it is, not the photograph itself” (154). According to Taylor this is a break with traditional photographical analysis, as he argues regarding Berger: “It is precisely at this juncture that we are introduced to a fresh interpretation not only of civil rights photography but also of photography more generally” (Taylor 153). The selection of photographs being just as important as the photograph itself

8 regarding analysis is something that I shall take into consideration and further explore in the chapter where I outline my own analytical methodology and photograph selection. Especially regarding the analysis of Robert Frank’s work, it will be important to also look at his own process selecting the photographs for his book The Americans. Because during his travels through the United States he shot many rolls of film. But first we have to dive deeper into the historiographical discussion regarding civil rights photography in which I want to place the work of Robert Frank and Gordon Parks. Berger’s book, Seeing Through Race: A Reinterpretation of Civil Rights Photography in which he criticizes dominant narratives within civil rights photography was used as a springboard by Sara Wood in her paper, “Civil Rights Photography and the Everyday”. She opens her paper acknowledging the pivotal role that photography has played within the civil rights struggle as something that is widely acknowledged and well documented (67). Just as Berger, she points out that “Many of the photographs focused on the violence meted out against African Americans” (67). One of the most pivotal photographs that has “secured a central place in the collective visual memory of the 1960s” (67) was a photograph called Man Confronts Police Dog by Charles Moore where a member of the police force attacks a black marcher with one arm raised to strike while pulling a leashed dog towards the young man’s body (Wood 68). This iconic picture is one of the photographs that established the trope of active violence and passive victimhood as central to civil rights activism. The problem that these iconic photographs have created, as Berger and also Leigh Raiford, associate professor of African American Studies, point out is that the entire civil rights movement seems to be remembered through this lens of violence and resistance, reducing the movement to the photographs of Birmingham. As Raiford notices: “Almost the entirety of the civil rights movement is captured, quite literally, in the photographs of Birmingham 1963” (2). Sara Wood puts attention to a different form of civil rights photography. She focuses on documentary photography that depicts the small everyday actions of black American protesters in opposition to Jim Crow segregation. Wood notes: “The closed cupboard, the grounded elevator, and the halted truck dramatize the link between noncompliance with the status quo, as represented by such mundane tasks and fully fledged protest” (70). Although this opens up a very broad spectrum of photography that can be placed under ‘civil rights photography of the everyday’, Wood focuses on a couple specific subjects of civil rights photography. The first one she discusses are the sit-ins in diners that she notes started in 1960. As Wood argues: “The student-led movement began in February 1960, when four African Americans from the Agricultural and Technical College of North Carolina took seats at the

9 segregated Woolworth’s lunch counter in Greensboro. When they were denied service, they refused to leave” (70-71). These sit-ins were very effective in exposing the dynamics of segregation and were a vision of participatory citizenship that the protesters where fighting for (Wood 71). Nevertheless, some of these sit-ins still resulted in spectacular photographs that in some ways fall in the trope of white aggression and black victimhood. Such as a photograph from Fred Blackwell called Sit-in at Woolworth’s Lunch Counter, shot May 28 1963. The African American protesters are surrounded by white aggressive protesters that have thrown sugar and ketchup over them. Wood notices: “Its depiction of a confrontation between determined nonviolent activists and resistant white protestors is characteristic of the canon of civil rights photography. Yet, while Blackwell’s photograph portrays a scene of heightened conflict… it also attests to the underlying threat of force that pervades everyday life” (71). So, although it depicts protest and aggression it also shows the mundane and ‘everydayness’ of southern segregation. Other sit-ins did not have this aggressive spectacle but showed civil rights activism through the disruption of everyday segregation. As Wood states: “At the same time, the sit-in also become an opportunity to stage a different version of an everyday, characterized by racial integration and participation in self-initiated political action” (73). The disruption of everyday segregation through self-initiated political participation is also the center of the second genre of civil rights photography of the everyday that Wood discusses. She focuses on the photography surrounding voter registration campaigns where African Americans would stand and wait in line to register to vote, while they knew that at the end of the line, they might face hostile intimidation. Wood notices: “One of the main deterrents to registration was the public posting of names and addresses, which left would-be voters susceptible to intimidation from employers, terror groups like the Klan and White Citizens Councils” (82). Yet there is no aggression, violence or trope of black victimhood in these pictures. Wood also states that: “The line becomes a means to capture the individuality and collective unity of those waiting to participate in the vote and is recast in these images as a site of fulfillment and agency” (83). The purpose of Sara Wood’s paper is to illustrate a new mode of civil rights photography that shows peaceful economic and political disruption of the everyday, mundane realities of Jim Crow segregation and the oppression that it causes. Wood argues: “The quiet, understated images discussed in this essay reflect the political aspirations and philosophies of the freedom movement as manifested in the otherwise unremarkable rituals of daily life” (83). And furthermore states: “Rather than documenting moments of high drama, they offer a glimpse of long-running processes of profound political change in the arena of the everyday” (84).

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If the first mode of civil rights photography is the trope of black victimhood and white violence, illustrated for examples in the photographs of the Birmingham revolts, then the second mode is the civil rights photography of the everyday. It is photography that depicts quiet resistance against the mundane but oppressive realities of Jim Crow segregation. Sara Wood moves the conversation from a violent civil rights photography to a quieter civil rights photography of the everyday. Yet I would argue it leaves open a third mode of civil rights photography. The photography still focuses on resistance movements in the 1960’s. As I’ve discussed in the introduction, the fifties were shaped by the sixties. It is therefore logical that we can use this historiographical discussion about the civil rights photography of the sixties as a lens into the photography of the fifties. Within her paper Wood references one photograph shot by Gordon Parks on his assignment shooting segregation in Alabama in 1956. Woods notices: “Key campaigns coalesced in and around the places where the daily indignities of segregation were most keenly felt” (69). It is certainly true that there was already resistance to segregation in the fifties. The world-famous refusal of Rosa Parks to sit in the back of the bus in Montgomery took place in 1955. However, simultaneously it was also a decade where the status quo of segregation was still mostly in place. As I’ve argued it was a decade that was marked by a dominant sense of social and cultural cohesion and unity. It was only at the turn of the decade and in the sixties that the underlying tensions of social and racial problems that were present but ignored in the fifties erupted in protests and new movements. It is here that I argue the third mode of photography comes in. If Sara Wood talks about organized and self- initiated disruption of the status quo of everyday segregation, the third mode is the actual depiction of everyday segregation and racial oppression in the 1950’s, that drew attention towards the issue. It is here that the work of Gordon Parks & Robert Frank becomes relevant. Both Gordon Parks & Robert Frank present in their work from the 1950’s a view of the everyday realities of racism and segregation in the South. They do not focus so much on active resistance and protests, neither in the form of protests turned violent, nor in the showing of everyday, self-initiated resistance and political participation. Instead, I will argue their photography showed the status quo of everyday segregation and the nuanced realities of this oppression. Nevertheless, I will also argue that although their photography is similar in its depiction of segregation, their photography differs in the visions for the future they present regarding black Americans in the United States. Through analyzing a selection of photographs of each photographer, I will argue that Parks presented a vision of a future of social and economic participation and integration, that this was the answer to the status quo of

11 segregation and racism he depicted in his photography. Robert Frank however, I will argue, has a vision of finding freedom in a sense of cultural expression and uniqueness, that white Americans lack. To make these arguments I will thoroughly analyze a selection of photographs from both photographers. But this entails that I shall first outline an analytical methodology of photography and create a selection of photographs that I shall analyze.

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Chapter 1.2: Analytical Methodology & Photograph Selection The purpose of this thesis is to analyze how the photography of Robert Frank in The Americans and Gordon Parks’ in The Restraints: Open & Hidden, and Segregation Story depict the everyday realities of segregation and how they differentiate in their proposed visions of the future of black Americans in America. However, to analyze their photography we first must establish a methodological framework. Making an argument about the meaning of photographs brings up various factors to take into account. What the photographs depict of course but also the context in which they are presented, authorial intent, the interpretations of other scholars, the relation of the photograph to the other photographs it is depicted with etc. In addition, photography finds itself as a visual medium and craft also in the realm of the artistic and symbolical. This can make the meaning of a photograph in the optimistic sense; open for interpretation. But as Roland Barthes in Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography notes that photography can also be determined as “unclassifiable” (4). In his eyes it is almost impossible to determine photography’s meaning and classify it in different categories. Nevertheless, in this chapter I shall first layout an analytical framework for photography, and more specifically, documentary photography. The core of my analytical method shall consist of exploring the authorial intent with which the photographs were taken, the reception of the photographs and what has been said about them by other scholars. Finally, I shall claim the interpretational freedom from where, by closely looking at the what the photographs depict in combination with the technical aspects of the photographs, I will give my own interpretation. I shall go further into these specific modes of analysis after I have discussed documentary photography as a whole and also Robert Frank’s and Gordon Parks’ own perspectives on documentary photography. The second part of this chapter is dedicated to the selection and introduction of the photographs I will be analyzing. I have already identified the specific photography projects of both Robert Frank and Gordon Parks that the analysis will focus on, The Americans and the photographs published in The Restraints: Open & Hidden in combination with some of the unpublished pictures taken during the same project where Gordon Parks travelled to Alabama. Not every photograph in these projects will the most relevant to my central arguments. Especially The Americans is a project that has a wider scope than merely depicting everyday segregation. There will also be a differentiation between the photographs selected for my arguments about the depiction of everyday segregation in the next chapter and the photographs selected to illustrate my argument about different visions of the future in chapter three.

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Frank notes in his application to the Guggenheim project: “What I have in mind, then is observation and record what one naturalized American finds to see in the United States that signifies the kind of civilization born here and spreading elsewhere.” (Frank, Guggenheim Application). As mentioned in the introduction of this paper, this sentence indicates the simple intention to document America through his photography. There is no indication of a specific purpose or argument regarding his photography project, to expose poverty or racism for example. Nevertheless, in reality Frank was extremely ambitious in creating a photography project that held meaning and had a specific vision behind it. As Jonathan Day, professor of transmedia arts, notes in his book Robert Frank’s ‘The Americans’: The Art of Documentary Photography: “He wanted to do more than simply document, acknowledging that photography is never objective, and thus running against the view still held by many who were involved in documentary work at the time” (24). It is here that we find the two, in a sense paradoxical, elements of documentary photography. One the one hand it is the process of depicting reality, of objective data collection, of the mechanical reproduction of reality. But secondly it presents a vision and argument, from the photographer. The role of photographer and authorial intent cannot be understated as in Frank’s opinion the best photographs find a balance between depicting the reality and humanity of the moment and the vision of the photographer. As Frank is quoted in Aperture in 1961: “There is one thing the photograph must contain, the humanity of the moment. This kind of photography is realism. But realism is not enough—there has to be vision, and the two together can make a good photograph. It is difficult to describe this thin line where matter ends and mind begins” (qtd. in Bennett 22). This notion of authorial intent is reflected by Gordon Parks when he states that photography is his choice of weapon, a tool to fight poverty and racism. But how do these photographers establish their vision in their photography? Where are the limitations of using authorial intent in this analysis? The first side of the documentary photograph, the side of realism, ‘the humanity of the moment’, was mostly established by Frank through his way of shooting for the Americans. He rarely directed his subjects and if possible, shot them without even being noticed at all. New technologies in camera development, such as simply smaller cameras allowed him to shoot ‘from the hip’. As Jonathan Day mentions: “The role played by technological innovations in artistic effort should not be underplayed… so the ‘miniature camera,’ as the 35mm Leica was described, and 35mm film facilitated The Americans” (29). Day furthermore argues: “They allowed him to wander inconspicuously around America and capture its secret moments, generally without being observed himself” (29). This style of shooting allowed Robert Frank

14 to capture the humanity of the moment. However, although the choice to shoot this way indicates a specific stylistic vision of capturing the humanity of the moment, the fact that Frank chooses to not direct his subjects limits the realization of his specific arguments and vision. The authorial intent that defines the Americans is then mostly created not when he was shooting, but by the selection of his photographs after his year of travelling through the United States. When he was done travelling, he had over 700 rolls of film from which he ultimately selected just 83 photographs that would become The Americans. This process of selection was a way of working that very much excited Frank as he saw the photography book as an answer to the disempowerment of photographers by magazines such as Life, that limited the vision of photographers. As Ulrich Keller, notes in his book The Highway as Habitat, A Roy Stryker Documentation, 1943-1955: “The selection of pictures, their co-ordination and captions and text, the visual presentation and ideological ‘slant’ of the story—all these matters lay in the hands of numerous specialists from lay-out man to art director” (23). There was a lack of control for photographers in realizing their vision after they handed over the photographs to the magazines. As Jonathan Day argues: “Many magazines, then almost discouraged the vision on the part of the photographer. They were craftsmen who fulfilled a role, obeyed a brief (23). In producing the Americans, Robert Frank had full freedom in creating his own vision both in shooting the photographs and in the selection of photographs for his book. The selection is very significant in the authorial intent of his vision as it is such a small selection out of so many photographs. There are only two photographs within the Americans that illustrate the realities of everyday segregation but since they are part of the relatively smart selection of photographs chosen for the book and one of them was chosen by Frank for the cover, it still illustrates how much segregation meant to Frank in his vision for his work. I will explore this further in the photograph selection part of this chapter. It is interesting to note that where Frank freed himself of the restraints on his vision imposed by magazines such as Life, which allowed him to select the photographs for The Americans himself, Gordon Parks shot his photographs of segregation in Alabama on assignment for Life. He thus was not fully free in selecting his own photographs for the resulting article and furthermore many photographs would not be publicly seen until they were discovered in 2014, 8 years after his death in 2006. These pictures would later be published in a photography book similar to The Americans under his name. The book was called Segregation Story. But of course, as it was posthumously, he was not involved in its creation and the selection of photographs. Analyzing Gordon Parks’ photographs, I shall thus focus mostly on the photographs themselves and their qualities, instead of their selection.

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The last aspect of authorial intent that needs to be taken into account, when analyzing photographs, is also the most straightforward one, language. Robert Frank and Gordon Parks might have commented on the meaning and intention of their photographs but it cannot be said that the meaning of a photograph can just be determined by what the creator said about it. Firstly, the meaning of a photograph not only has meaning because of what the photographer has captured and his vision, but also the historical, political and social circumstances in which the photograph is viewed. The meaning of a photograph is thus also determined by scholars, critics and personal interpretation. I will discuss this aspect of my analytical method in the next paragraph but it must also be noted that using the photographer’s comments on his work for analytical purposes can also be limited by the photographer’s refusal to explain his work. This is especially relevant in the case of Robert Frank as he wanted to let the photographs speak for themselves. Day notes: “He (Frank) wrote that he wished to create a document, the visual impact of which will nullify explanation. He sought to escape the tyranny of words” (59). Frank would become notorious in his refusal to explain his work. The photographs in the Americans are accompanied with a blank page next to them, only titled with a short description such as Trolley--New Orleans. Eamonn McCabe who was picture editor of The Guardian, wrote in the foreword of Day’s book:

“Robert Frank never did say very much and there is not a single word by him in The Americans… you get the impression that even the meagre captions at the end of the book were reluctantly dragged out of him by some poor curator or editor in search of at least some information about a set of some of the greatest photographs ever taken” (McCabe in Day ix).

RJ Smith who wrote a biography on Robert Frank mentions: “It has been said that he stopped doing interviews, pulled back from public scrutiny, and went into hiding after The Americans began to get attention. Frank wants his work to speak for him” (7). This illustrates that Robert Frank, although realizing his vision, also wants to leave room for the critics, scholars and general viewers to determine the meaning of his photographs. This brings me to the second aspect of my analytical framework, reviews and scholarly sources. I will also draw upon other scholarly work that analyzed the photography of Gordon Parks and Robert Frank. With regards to Gordon Parks I will draw from scholarly work from among others Kimberly Lamm, assistant professor in the women’s studies, who wrote a paper called “Between the Open and the Hidden: Clothing, Segregation, and the Feminine Counter-

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Archive in the Photographs of Gordon Parks”. In her paper she argues that Parks’ photographs in The Restraints: Open and Hidden are influenced by his background in fashion photography and highlight the counter archival pressure black femininity places on Jim Crow segregation (134). Although Lamn focuses primarily on gender, her paper will be used to support my argument that, contrary to Robert Frank, Gordon Parks depicted equal social and economic participation as an answer to the oppression of segregation. It also illustrates the role that Gordon Parks’ fashion photography plays within his civil rights photography. I will also use “Harlem in Furs: Race and Fashion in the Photography of Gordon Parks” a paper by Jesús Constantino, Assistant Professor of American Literary Studies, to make this argument. Some of the secondary scholarly literature I will use to make my analysis of Robert Frank’s photographs consist of Jonathan Day’s book Robert Frank’s ‘The Americans’: The Art of Documentary Photography and peer-reviewed essays such as “The Photographer in The Beat-Hipster Idiom” by George Cotkin, and “Robert Frank and Two Babies: The Americans at the Met” by Weena Perry. I will use the analysis of these scholars as reference points for my own analysis but also build upon their arguments and sometimes question them. Because the third part of my methodological approach is making my own interpretations through a close reading of the selected photographs, it is important to note that I take some interpretational freedom with regards to the analysis of these photographs. Close reading is interpretational analysis where the spectator of the photograph makes an interpretation by carefully examining the elements of the photograph. Roland Barthes in Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography notes that there are three practices with regards to a photograph. The operator makes the photograph, the spectrum is the person or object in the photograph and the spectator looks at the photograph (32). To be the spectator of a photograph is not a passive action. Spectators actively engage and determine the meaning of the photograph by their interpretations. They add to the so-called photographic discourse. It is here where the process of close reading offers interpretational freedom. In the next paragraphs I will briefly introduce the photograph selection for my analysis. I will discuss why I choose those photographs and what they depict. The Americans was a project with a larger scope than just photographing segregation in the South. As Frank mentions in his Guggenheim application, “The making of a broad, voluminous record of things American, past and present” (Frank, Guggenheim Application). Although every photograph in The Americans was carefully selected over a period of months by Robert Frank, what they depict is a varied look at America. There are only two photographs in The Americans that depict the everyday realities of segregation in the South,

17 these are Trolley--New Orleans and Charleston--South Carolina. Trolley—New Orleans depicts the sideview of a trolley with behind the open windows, six people. A white man, a white woman and two white children in the front and a black man and black woman in the back. Charleston-South Carolina depicts a black caregiver holding a white baby. Although these are the only pictures that depict segregation in The Americans their significance cannot be understated and photographing segregation became an important aspect of Robert Frank’s vision. Trolley--New Orleans ultimately was chosen by Frank for the cover of his book. In the following chapter I will discuss Frank’s experience with segregation during his road trip in depth and analyze these two photographs. Especially the photograph Charleston-South Caroline is interesting as a very similar photograph was shot by Gordon Parks in Alabama during his assignment. I will explore the symbolism of this image, a black caregiver holding a white baby as a signifier of racism and segregation, all the way back to Alexis de Tocqueville. Although there are only two photographs that clearly depict the realities of segregation in The Americans there is a significantly larger percentage of photographs that depict black Americans. These photographs often show black Americans away from white Americans and in the final chapter of this analysis I argue that Robert Frank, through his photography indicates that black Americans actually find a freedom and joy that is not found by the white Americans. It is also important to note that there are significant themes in The Americans that shall be largely ignored in this analysis. Throughout The Americans one can find recurring photographs that depict flags, jukeboxes and cars. Jonathan Day in his book American Witness focusses his analysis largely on these themes. But this analysis will focus on the people, not the objects, presented in The Americans. The photographs selected for the final chapter of this thesis consist mostly of photographs that depict black Americans in isolation from white Americans. These are photographs such as Belle Isle – Detroit, Beaufort – South Carolina and Indianapolis. I will use these photographs in the third chapter where I will argue that Robert Frank, in his vision, depicts black Americans in a way where he sees a freedom and way of living that is preferable to the capitalist and consumerist lifestyle of white Americans, despite the everyday realities of segregation. In order to make this argument I will present a selection of photographs of white Americans in The Americans that will show this contrast. These are photographs such as Movie Premiere--Hollywood, Butte–Montana, Canal Street–New Orleans, Hotel Lobby–Miami Beach, Charity Ball–New York City and Mens’ Room–Railway Station Memphis. All these photographs are examples of what Jack Kerouac described in the introduction of The Americans as “a sad poem right out of America onto

18 film” (6). In chapter three I will explore how Frank presents a vision of anti-consumerism and anti-capitalism, how he is very critical in his photography of the ‘American dream’ and both the working class and the wealthy. I will argue that from this perspective, he presents African Americans as the counter culture that is in a sense more free and happier than white Americans. My argument will be that this vision stands in opposition to what Parks proposes in his photography as the answer to the oppression of segregation, which is economic participation and achieving prosperity for black Americans. Where the photographs I’ve selected from The Americans are very specific in their purpose for each chapter, there will be more of a crossover with regards to the photographs selected from Gordon Parks. Nevertheless, his project for Life capturing segregation in Alabama in 1956 consisted roughly of two parts. The first part of his trip he would focus on photographing Willie Causey and his family who had a small sharecropping and woodcutting business. Eventually Parks was able to get the various family members together and he photographed the different generations, mostly close to or inside their house. At the end of the project Parks would be contacted by the Life office in New York to photograph segregated facilities. This resulted in a number of photographs that will be central to this analysis as they represent the everyday realities of segregation. These are photographs such as Ondria Tanner and her Grandmother Window Shopping--Mobile Alabama 1956; Department Store, Mobile Alabama 1956; Untitled, Shady Grove—Alabama, 1956; At Segregated Drinking Fountain, Mobile Alabama and Airline Terminal, Atlanta Georgia, 1956. The last one depicts a black caregiver and white baby similar to the photograph by Robert Frank in South Carolina. These photographs not only show the realities of everyday segregation but as I will argue also show a vision of economic and social integration and participation for black Americans with white America that Gordon Parks presents as the answer to the oppression of segregation. This sense of hope is also present within his photograph Untitled, Alabama 1956 where he shows three boys standing behind a fence, one of them white, looking into the camera. I will explore these photographs in the coming chapters. Note for reference that all of Gordon Parks’ photographs are available through the Gordon Parks Foundation’s webpage, “Segregation in the South, 1956”. The link to the webpage can be found in the literature list at the end of this thesis.

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Chapter 2: The Status Quo: Depictions of Everyday Segregation in the Photography of Robert Frank & Gordon Parks Earlier in this thesis I’ve argued for a third mode of civil rights photography, that of the depiction of the status quo of everyday segregation and racism in the 1950’s. I’ve selected a body of work from both Gordon Parks & Robert Frank from the 1950’s. Regarding Robert Frank all the photographs come from his magnus opus The Americans, while the selected photographs from Gordon Parks primarily come from his project for Life where he captured segregation in Alabama in 1955, both a selection of pictures that was in the original life magazine article called Restraints: Open and Hidden and the later discovered additional photographs under the label ‘segregation story’. These selected photographs were shown in various exhibitions and published in a book with the same title. Through the online Gordon Parks foundation, I have selected various photographs to analyze. In this chapter I will analyze the photographs from both photographers to argue that both photographers depicted the segregation of the south in 1955, at a cultural turning point right before the more active resistance and protests of the civil-rights movement. In the first chapter of this thesis I’ve explored a historiographical discussion surrounding civil rights photography and capturing civil rights photography of the everyday. I proposed a third mode of civil rights photography which was the photographing of the status quo; of the everyday realities of segregation in 1955 and 1956. In this chapter I will analyze how both Gordon Parks and Robert Frank in their projects The Americans and The Restraints: Open and Hidden photographed the everyday realities of the status quo, of everyday segregation in a similar way. How they moved away from tropes of violent scenes of racism and protest but instead focused on various depictions of everyday segregation. In the first paragraphs the focus will be on Robert Frank’s and Gordon Parks’ views on segregation and how their respective projects where formed. I will then go on to analyze the selected photographs from both photographers. The overall result of this chapter will be firmly placing Gordon Parks and Robert Frank together as photographers with a similar vision towards the everyday realities of segregation. Robert Frank grew up in Switzerland, in a relatively wealthy Jewish family. His father was a businessman. As Frank mentions at a National Gallery of Art lecture in 2009; his father liked good things, good food and a good life. Frank would spend his life escaping the mundanity of this middle-class prosperity, that he not only experienced in his family but in Switzerland as a whole. As Smith notes in American Witness: “That safety, orderliness, the rigid hewing to business and decorum, the methodical predictability, the neatness of the

20 sidewalks, and the knowledge that your block was watched—all are familiar to those who live there. Those qualities, Frank would explain later, sucked the air out of him” (11). Nevertheless, this didn’t mean that Frank didn’t experience oppression or adversity during his youth. The mundanity and prosperity of his middle-class upbringing stands in stark contrast with the big part of his youth that was overshadowed by the rise and reign of the Nazi regime. Smith, quotes Frank himself, regarding growing up with the threat of Nazi Germany looming over Switzerland: “It was an unforgettable situation. I watched the grownups decide what to do—when to change your name, whatever. It’s on the radio every day. You hear that guy [Hitler] talking, threatening, cursing the Jews. It’s forever in your mind, like a smell, the voice of that man” (qtd. in Smith 21). Frank lived in Switzerland where, throughout World War II the oppression and evil of the Nazi Regime never fully took hold but always loomed. The threat of an impending invasion by Hitler was always there, and Frank and his family where aware what this would mean for them as Jewish people. But the threat never materialized. I would argue that his notion, of the underlying tension and threat of such an oppressive regime, in many ways shaped Robert Frank’s photography that would be the Americans. He would, through his photographs expose the underlying tensions and realities of the United States while focusing on those living on the margins of society. He does this among others in his two photographs where he explores the segregation of the South, Charleston- South Carolina & Trolley- New Orleans. Although Frank, as a Jewish immigrant that had experienced the threat of being a minority and oppressed group, sympathized with those on the margins of American society, he didn’t completely understand the full realities of segregation in the South as he had spent most of his time in America living in New York. He of course was aware of segregation from reading about it in newspapers and other publications but during his trip he experienced and captured it himself for the first time. Trolley- New Orleans shows us a trolley in New Orleans, but more than that it is an incredibly poignant image. Through the window of the trolley we see six people. A white man in the front, seemingly looking towards the camera but his eyes and his expression are not visible because of the reflection of the sunlight on the window. Behind him we see a woman, seemingly upper-class, looking into the camera with a look of contempt. Right behind her we find two children, a boy and a young girl, the boy wearing a suit. He looks at the camera with a slight arrogance. In the fourth window we find a black man, his hand hanging out of the window and staring into the camera with a poignant sadness. In the final window we see a black woman looking out of the window, the only person in the photograph that does not look directly at the camera. As Robert Frank’s photography book is called The Americans it is

21 telling that he decided on this photograph for the cover. The photograph showcases that reality of America’s racial and even gendered realities. The fact that the black Americans are in the back of the trolley is of course not a coincidence, they were legally obligated to be. Day notes: “The photograph was taken before the US Congress ruled that segregated buses were unconstitutional, on 20 December 1956” (116). But the sequence of people also coincidentally showcases the entire social hierarchy of America in the fifties. The white man in the front, followed by the white woman, the children, a black man and finally a black woman. The strongest elements within the photograph are the white woman, looking at the camera, exuding an emotion seemingly of content and derision towards the camera and the man behind it. Two seats behind her we find a black man who’s also looking towards the camera but who exudes an entirely different emotion than the woman. A look of puzzlement, confusion and sadness. His eyes in a sense ask the question why he is in this reality of segregation, racism and oppression. As George Cotkin notes: “The pain and despair in the face of one black man immediately draw our attention” (30). The look of the woman in front however seems to be one of anger and derision. As if she is aware that Frank is capturing and questioning the everyday realities and evil of the segregation era, and she is angry that he dares to do that. It is important to note that this reading of the faces and emotions in this photograph is done by reading the photograph in the context and intention of its creation. It is of course impossible to without a doubt determine what exactly inspired the emotions shown in the photograph. Therefore, there can be variety in its interpretation. Maybe the woman merely didn’t like to be photographed or she was caught off guard. Robert Frank didn’t position his subjects or interacted with them. The photograph was taken in the blink of an eye. Regarding the interpretation of the photograph, as I’ve discussed this is done within the context of Roland Barthes’ conceptualization of the active interpretation of the spectator and close reading interpretation. Meaning is created just as much by the reader as by the photograph and its creator. Still, all the elements of the photograph together and the vision and context of the shot, determines it’s meaning and the meaning of her expression. Day describes the woman as: “Black hair and a dark coat frame her disdain, an expression as evil as the witch in MGM’s hugely popular 1939 version of The Wizard of Oz” (115). Attention must also be paid to the children in the middle of the photograph. Especially the boy’s expression is telling. He is neatly dressed and looks at the camera with a look of confidence and authority that is not expected for a boy his age. As a white boy he exudes a power that is completely lacking in the expression of the larger and adult black man behind him, exemplifying the realities of racial status. Day notes: “The white boy looks trapped, but

22 at the same time holds himself with a confidence entirely lacking from the muscular adult behind” (116). This dynamic of exuding confidence and authority from a white child in contrast to the subjugated position of a black adult is something that also comes back within another one of Frank’s photographs, Charleston-South Carolina. I will return to this photograph later in this chapter. The last element of Trolley--New Orleans that I want to discuss are the windows of the trolley that separate all of the passengers. The windows function as dividers of these different racial and gendered classes, exemplifying the segregated realities of America in the 1950’s. Cotkin even goes as far as to compare the window bars with jail bars. “He is framed, as if in prison, by the windows of the vehicle and is thus chained to the social realities of the segregation era” (31). The bars of the windows separate each of the passengers, this way although they are all close together in the trolley, they are still isolated from each other and alone. Day notes: “Despite their shared space, the framing reveals their intense solitude, loneliness and separation” (134). Trolley--New Orleans is thus an incredibly sad and poignant photograph that shows the realities of racism and segregation in America. But it does so without falling into any tropes of spectacle, of violence and aggression by white Americans against black Americans. For this reason, I argue the photograph falls perfectly in the third mode of civil rights photography I have set in the first chapter. The photograph shows the status quo, the everyday realities of segregation in the fifties right before the cultural turning point where the civil rights era and resistance against these realities would fully explode. Day argues as well: “Frank’s image is uncomfortable. It examines racism in America without overtly representing it. The photograph’s tension exists in the unequal appearance and body language of its subjects” (116). To what extent Frank actually had the intent of political change with this photograph is hard to assess. Day notes: “Trolley is one of the more clearly political images within the book, revealing with stark intensity the racial segregation within America during the mid-1950s” (134). As we have explored, Frank did sympathize with the plight of black Americans and was sensitive to the oppression of racism and segregation. But as Day argues as well: “The political intentionality of the photograph is difficult to assess. It was taken before the famous ‘bus boycott, which bemoaned and eventually caused the outlawing of segregated buses” (134). According to Day however Frank’s choice to place this photograph within The Americans after the all-white photograph Fourth of July – Jay, New York, clearly juxtaposes the flag, the symbol of nationhood and the constitution, with clear evidence of oppression and lack of equality (134).

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But, just as many other photographs in Frank’s book, which I shall discuss later, despite it’s overwhelming sadness, Trolley-New Orleans also holds a small amount of hope. The black woman at the end of the trolley is the only one looking away, seemingly content and thus escaping the isolation and entrapment of the trolley, and as Jonathan Day argues: “We are all, I suspect, looking for the unassuming Rosa Parks, quietly and unwittingly starting a revolution by refusing to give up her seat” (116). Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat on December 1, 1955. Robert Frank took Trolley—New Orleans in the fall of 1955 merely weeks before it happened, so he was not aware of the significance. But every spectator of the photograph on the cover of The Americans most likely is. Although Robert Frank’s experiences with the looming threat of Nazi Germany over Switzerland and his status as a Jewish immigrant in America made him sensitive and sympathetic to the oppression of racism and segregation, a much more direct experience with these social realities was had by Gordon Parks. Gordon Parks is a black American himself and the first part of his youth he lived in the segregated South of the United States, Fort Scott, Kansas to be precise. Gordon Parks moved away however to St. Paul, Minnesota and from there to Chicago and New York. In his memoir A Choice of Weapons, Gordon Parks extensively writes about his youth and teenage years. The first chapter of the book is filled with references to death and extreme violence. This created a fear of death with Parks, as he explains in A Choice of Weapons: “When I was eleven, I became possessed of an exaggerated fear of death” (4). Much of the violence that Parks experienced was white on black violence with racism as the cause. Some of this violence he heard about or it happened in his social surroundings. With other violence he was the victim himself. Parks explains: “I was stoned and beaten and called ‘nigger,’ ‘black boy,’ ‘darky,’ ‘shine.’ These indignities came so often I began to accept them as normal. Yet I always fought back” (2). The first pages of Parks’ memoir heap his experiences with racist violence on top of each other. One example is his cousin who killed a white millhand after he called him ‘nigger’ and was afterwards hunted, and disappeared while Parks, “would lie awake nights wondering if the whites had killed my cousin” (4). Another example was a black gambler called Captain Tuck who was mysteriously killed on the Frisco tracks (5). Parks also tells: “I saw a woman cut another woman to death” (6). The theme of racist violence runs throughout A Choice of Weapons and clearly impacted Gordon Parks deeply. It is surprising therefore that when he returned to the South, in order to photograph segregation in the Alabama, he photographed within the third mode of civil rights photography I established earlier, photographing the mundane, everyday realities of segregation instead of protests, acts of racist violence and the spectacular.

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However, throughout A Choice of Weapons there runs another theme that deeply affected Gordon Parks and that is very much present in his photography for The Restraints: Open and Hidden. This theme is poverty. Only the first few pages of Parks’ memoir are set in Kansas and his violent experiences in the South. The majority of the book are about Parks’ struggles with poverty after he moves to Minnesota because of his mother’s death. After a violent encounter with his brother in law, Parks was forced onto the streets, homeless and fending for himself at fifteen. Although his parents where poor, Parks acknowledged it never really was a concern during his childhood (14). But soon after he was on the streets the hardship of poverty came over him, Parks writes: “So now, in a way, poverty seemed new to me. And its embarrassment was as painful as the hunger it brought” (15). This made him determined to become successful and prove everyone wrong. He notes: “Perhaps he did me a favor by pushing me out. Early manhood, after all, was my inheritance; the sooner it began the better” (15). Throughout the next chapters Parks writes about his struggles with poverty, getting jobs and living on the streets. He lived and worked in a whorehouse for a while, played piano for a failing band on the road and struggled often with hunger. Throughout this struggle with poverty, Parks went back and forth between seeing racism and white oppression as the cause of his struggles and feeling he was in charge of his own destiny. Parks writes in his memoir:

“The naïveté of youth, the frustrations of being black had me trapped, and achievement seemed almost impossible…But even then, I knew I couldn’t go on feeling condemned because of my color. I made up my mind, there in the cab of that truck, that I wouldn’t allow my life to be conditioned by what others thought or did, or give in to anyone who would have me be subservient” (Parks 45).

Gordon Parks would have many more subservient jobs, and struggles with being black as well, before he stumbled upon his calling. The first moment he realized that he became interested in photography, that moment too was marked with the struggle of poverty. Parks’ colleague Charlie had left a magazine out that Gordon picked up. It was here that Gordon Parks found photographs of photographers such as Walker Evans, Dorothea Lang, Russell Lee and others (Parks 174). Parks writes: “These stark images of men, women and children, caught in their confusion and poverty, saddened me” (174). The theme of poverty was incredibly important to Parks. It is thus not a surprise that when Parks was asked by Life to go to Alabama to capture segregation, a significant element

25 in his photographs was poverty. As I introduced before, there were basically two parts to the photographs Parks took on his assignment. First, he focused on the Causey family and their extended family, the Thorston’s. He shot a significant number of photographs of the family members around and inside the house. Most of these photographs don’t show the realities of everyday segregation clearly as there is no white counter element in these photographs. They merely show these black Americans in their living spaces. The Causey’s had reached a relative: As is noted on the webpage of the Gordon Parks foundation: “For a black family in Alabama, the Causeys had reached a certain level of financial success, exemplified by a secondhand refrigerator and the Chevrolet sedan that Willie and his wife, Allie, an elementary school teacher, had slowly saved enough money to buy” (Gordon Parks Foundation). I argue that theme of poverty is strongly present in the photographs Parks took of the family. In the family photographs taken around their living spaces we often see sad and angry emotions, muddy, brown colors and a downward angle in the photographs. Take for example the photograph Untitled, Shady Grove, Alabama, 1956 that depicts two boys, barefoot in the mud. One of the boy’s upper body is out of the frame, only his legs are visible. The other boy is squatting looking away into the distance, a frustrated and sad look on his face. The surroundings of the boys are muddy and empty. Although the photograph is in color the color palette is brown and desaturated. It is also interesting to note that even though there is a lot of open space around the boys, the framing of the photographic still creates a sense of the restriction of movement. These photographic elements are present in various of Gordon Parks’ photographs during the projects for example Mother and Children, Mobile, Alabama, 1956 and Untitled Alabama, 1956 where we see two grandparents and two grandchildren. A sense of poverty and restriction of movement, coupled with troubled expression make up the elements of these photographs. The Life article The Restraints: Open and Hidden would have its text written by Robert Wallace. In the opening paragraphs he notes that the poverty seen in the housing of these black Americans is shared by many white southerners. But white southerners, if they have the financial means, can move anywhere they want, ‘negroes’ however, can only move to other segregated areas (Wallace 98). The poverty seen in the photographs of Gordon Parks is thus not only a financial restraint but also a restraint of segregation. However, although these photographs don’t directly show the restraints of segregation through a white counter element, other photographs taken by Parks during his project do. The first photograph I want to discuss is Outside Looking In, Mobile Alabama, 1956 where we see six children looking through a fence, to a playground they are not allowed to play in.

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It is a poignant photograph that clearly depicts the third mode of civil rights photography I’ve established, the status quo of everyday segregation. The fence is literally a restraint of movement and access for these innocent black American children. However, it is also a photograph that indicates Parks’ vision for the future, a future where that fence would disappear and the children would be free to walk upon the green grass of the playground and play, a future of social and economic inclusion. This is a different vision from what is presented within Frank’s photographs as I will discuss in more depth in the following chapter. At the end of Parks’ assignment Life contacted him, asking if he would photograph ‘separate but equal’ facilities such as water fountains and store entrances. This resulted in photographs like At Segregated Drinking Fountain, Mobile Alabama 1956; Department Store, Mobile Alabama, 1956; Ondria Tanner and her Grandmother Window Shopping and Untitled, Shady Grove, Alabama, 1956. The last one having the same name as the photograph with the squatting boy but depicting an ice-cream shop with a colored and white only counter. These photographs perfectly caption the everyday realities of segregation with the Tanner, Causey and Thornton family members standing next to ‘colored only’, ‘colored entrance’ and ‘colored’ windows, stores, ice-cream shops and drinking fountains. They depict the status quo of segregation in the South in a similar fashion as Robert Frank’s Trolley-New Orleans did, falling into the third mode of civil-rights photography, capturing the status quo of Southern segregation. However, there are also very important differences between the way Gordon Parks captured these photographs. The sadness that is present in Frank’s photograph is not present here. Also, although the ‘colored entrance’ and ‘colored only’ signs are present, attention is drawn away from them, to the people in the photographs, of which especially the women’s beautiful dresses capture the attention. As Lamm notes about the dresses the women in the photograph At Segregated Drinking Fountain, Mobile Alabama 1956 wear; the dresses “are clearly on display as clothing, but also as shapes and compositional forms that take the eye away from the fountains, the signage and their demarcation of space” (145). In the next chapter I will discuss how Parks presents a differing vision with regards to the answer to the oppression of segregation than Robert Frank. But I want to close this chapter, discussing two photographs, one by Parks and one by Frank that depict the same thing. Robert Frank’s photograph Charleston-South Carolina and Gordon Parks’ photograph Airline Terminal, Atlanta Georgia, 1956 both depict the same thing, a black female caretaker holding a white baby. The specific elements of the photographs differ slightly. Parks’ picture is in color and also shows a white woman sitting on the left side in the terminal. The photograph is taken from slightly further away. Frank’s photograph is closer up, in black and

27 white and only holds the white baby and the black, female caregiver. Both photographs show a relationship between black and white America that is rich in symbolical meaning, going back all the way to the period of slavery. Segregation was deeply imbedded in Southern American life, so it is interesting to see this intimate photograph that links an intimate bond, of a black caregiver or mother figure nurturing a white baby. Jonathan Day offers an interpretation of Charleston--South Carolina that is very positive. Day argues: “Frank’s photograph Charleston- South Carolina shows a smiling black nanny and her tiny white charge. They are clearly happy together. The implications are obvious. Here is a relationship that transcends race” (109). Yet this reading of the photograph is very much debated. I strongly disagree with this reading of the photograph which indicates the subjective nature of close reading as an analytical method. And how spectators add to the photographic discourse in different ways. My interpretation is that the photograph does not show the baby and caretaker happy together, instead there seems to be an incredible distance between the two, despite them being in embrace. The smiling and happiness that Day sees in this photograph I would argue is completely absent. Instead the black caregiver is looking away, not interacting with or connected to the baby. The same goes for Gordon Parks’ photograph. George Cotkin observed: “Though she holds the baby close, her look is not directed at the child, whose reality seems alien to her. The black woman seems lost in thought as well; perhaps she too is contemplating the separateness from the child” (31). This is remarked as well by art historian Weena Perry. About Charleston-South Carolina she argued: “But the baby and the woman seem worlds apart. The dark-skinned caregiver is just doing a job, and exhibits no tenderness towards her charge” (4). Frank himself commented on the photograph in a lecture featured in the documentary Don’t Blink. He stated that about Charleston-South Carolina he thought it was interesting that in a place where the question of race is continuously on everyone’s mind, people would leave their baby in the care of a black woman. But he then immediately, as he often does, argues that he doesn’t like to explain his photographs. With regards to segregation, in Day’s interpretation it seems to be a photograph that indicates that segregation isn’t all that bad and enforced, a happy caretaker is caring for a happy white baby. Yet in Cotkin’s and Perry’s reading, with which I agree, there is separation in this photograph. I would argue that it is a photograph that shows how black Americans are both segregated but simultaneously chained to the oppression of white America. Cotkin and Perry see distance and separation in this photograph. Similarly, to Trolley-- New Orleans the subjects in the photographs are together in a small frame but separated and isolated by racial and social realities. The strength of Charleston--South Carolina and

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Gordon Parks’ Airline Terminal as well, is that it turns what otherwise would be a motherly, intimate and caring relationship into something cold and distant through the emotions captured in the photograph. Regarding Trolley-New Orleans I argued that there was a paradoxical imbalance between the confidence and assertion of power between the white boy looking out of the trolley and the black man behind him. The white boy, despite being a child, has a look of confidence and authority over him. This stands in stark contrast with the look of sadness and powerlessness in the face of adult black man behind him. This paradoxical power dynamic between black adult and white child is even more present in Charleston-South Carolina. Cotkin notes: “It (the baby) has a sagacious look well beyond it’s years, as though it realizes that its close relationship to this black woman, this surrogate mother, is foreclosed by the pressing realities of socially-regulated duration” (31). In Gordon Parks’ photograph this ‘infantile white authority’ as it where is not as present. The baby seems to be more engaged with the caregiver. However, the separation and isolation are still there, mostly communicated through the expression of the black caregiver. In Parks’ photograph we also see a nicely dressed white woman sitting to the left, possibly the mother of the baby. This also illustrates the strange presence of segregation and isolation in what would otherwise be connected bonds. I argue that this image, of a black caregiver holding a white baby while displaying a sense separation and isolation, traces its symbolical meaning back to slavery. It is therefore an iconic image that illustrates how black and white America are both intimately connected to each other, while simultaneously being segregated and isolated from each other through racist policies and social realities. Perry argues: “A smiling nanny (mammy) would makes the realities of an oppressive social situation, but this photograph reveals systematic socioeconomic divisions of the South” (4). This statement regarding Charleston-South Carolina is just as relevant or even more relevant to Parks’ Airline Terminal since his photograph also shows a white, wealthy woman to the left who might well be the mother of the baby. She stares away, with a total lack of interest in the baby. It is telling that both Gordon Parks and Robert Frank chose to capture this dynamic while photographing segregation. It is a dynamic of segregation where we can see that segregation and racism are not only acted out in actual forced separation but also through oppressive social relationships that find their origin in slavery and persisted well into the Jim- Crow segregation of the fifties. As Perry explains: “A social order, in which black women tended to and even raised white children, went on long after the institution of slavery was outlawed” (4). In 1831 when Alexis de Tocqueville travelled through America the institution

29 of slavery was still very much in place. In his magnus opus Democracy in America he too notices the dynamic of the black female caregiver taking care of a white baby. Tocqueville describes seeing a black woman and native Indian woman taking care of a white child. He too notices a dynamic of superiority from the white baby despite its infantility. Tocqueville writes: “While the latter displayed, in the slightest of her movements, a sense of superiority, which contrasted strangely with her youthful weakness” (375). He too concludes that, what otherwise would be a close and intimate bond becomes a dynamic of isolation and separation because of the racial realities of the time. As Tocqueville notices: “A bond of affection linked in this case the oppressed and the oppressors, and nature’s efforts to draw them close made even more striking the wide gap between them caused by prejudice and law” (376). The photographs taken by Gordon Parks and Robert Frank, suggest that in the more than 120 years since Tocqueville wrote about this scene, little has changed.

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Chapter 3: Differing Visions, The Future of Black America Through the Eyes of Robert Frank & Gordon Parks Both Gordon Parks and Robert Frank were sensitive and sympathetic to the plight of black Americans that lived under segregation and were subject to racism. For Robert Frank this came from his Jewish background and living under threat of Nazi Germany in Switzerland during his childhood. Gordon Parks’ experience with segregation and racism where more direct, as he was black himself and lived part of his youth in Kansas. Although they have both captured everyday segregation and racism in similar fashion, there are also many points of departure in their style of photography and the vision they present. The purpose of this chapter is to explore the different visions of these photographers regarding the answers to everyday segregation. Although both photographers captured the sadness and oppressive realities of segregation in the South, both photographers also capture hope for the future. However, the hope they communicate through their photographs differs immensely. In the first part of this chapter I will explore how the differing backgrounds and philosophies of both photographers shape their visions. The second part of this chapter will be devoted to analyzing and comparing these differing visions in their photography. As we know Robert Frank’s photography in The Americans was much wider in scope than just capturing segregation in the South. Robert Frank travelled all over America. But how did he capture America? Through his photographs in The Americans, Robert Frank criticizes the dominant cultural perception America had of itself in the decade after the Second World War. This cultural perception was one of the United States emerging as a superpower after the war, American economic booming, the nuclear suburban family, the rise of consumer culture and a highpoint of traditional morals and values. Robert Frank, I will argue was strongly anti-consumerism and against capitalism, which he depicted through the photography in The Americans. He saw beneath the surface of the ‘complacent’ fifties and saw the racial and social tensions that were there. Simultaneously he saw the American dream of consumerism and capitalism as empty and sad. The question then becomes, how is this relevant to photographing black Americans and segregation in the fifties? I will argue that Robert Frank showed through, his photography an alternative vision. As Cotkin argues: “The Americans offers, as I will demonstrate, a sustained critique of the barrenness of American culture, but along with his Beat and Hipster comrades, Frank possessed a vision of renewal and rebirth” (19). Frank saw in America a counter-culture that was very much against the trappings of capitalism and consumerism, a counter-culture that was about freedom, movement and a ‘fullness’ of life. This counter-culture was also known as the beat-hipster

31 culture and described by Cotkin as: “The Beat or Hipster was open to experimentation and lived, or sought to live, for the intrinsic fullness of each moment. He was involved in a constant search for an authentic self, a valid voice” (20). Furthermore, he states: “To be alienated, apart from social conventions and expectations, was to be set free, free to take to the road or to become part of the urban nether-world” (20). The reason that the beat-hipster vision of Frank is so relevant to black Americans is because he saw in black America this vision of the beat-hipster idiom. Robert Frank was critical of consumerism, capitalism and the frantic pursuit of the ‘American dream’. Black Americans, because of racism and segregation policies, had no chance of achieving this American dream. They were ‘alienated and apart from social conventions’ and thus, despite racism and oppression, free to take to the road. Frank communicated this vision through his photography as I will explore further in this chapter, however it is important to note that I am not unique in making this argument. I will draw from scholars such as Cotkin and Perry. The central point of this chapter is to compare this vision of Robert Frank with what is communicated about the hope and future of black Americans in the photography by Gordon Parks. I argue that Parks’ vision stands in opposition to Frank’s vision. Frank, despite being sympathetic to the harsh realities of racism and segregation, also saw a freedom for black Americans because they were not entrapped by the social conventions and expectations of chasing wealth and the American dream. Parks however in his photography shows the possibilities of black Americans participating in middle-class consumer culture and achieving financial stability. For Parks the participation and integration of black Americans in the American dream and consumer culture was both a way to resist against the oppression of racism and segregation, and the future for black Americans. Once racist policies would be beaten, Parks’ would hope to see African Americans rise out of poverty and participate in the American dream. The central argument of this chapter is therefore that although Gordon Parks and Robert Frank find common ground in the way they capture the sad realities of everyday segregation and racism, they differ in the ways they see hope and a future for black Americans. One sees freedom in a black American counter-culture, moving away from consumerism and capitalistic trappings. The other sees participation and integration in consumer culture and integration in the financial stability of the middle-class and the American dream as an answer. Before I dive in the photographs, I will explore how their personal backgrounds and philosophies shape their visions. As I’ve briefly explored before, Robert Frank was raised in a middle-class, relatively well-off, family. Although he did spend his youth under the threat of Nazi-Germany, he did not so much suffer from financial insecurity or poverty. What he did suffer from was the

32 mundanity of Switzerland and upper-middle class life. It was suffocating him. He wanted to rebel and break away. He wanted to walk a path of uncertainty and adventure. This was a driver towards both photography and his eventual move to America. Smith notes: “Making pictures presented a way to stand up for one’s self. There was romance in photography and defiance, and it held his attention” (27). Furthermore, Smith states: “He was a runaway, a young adventurous photographer driven, along with so many others by the squall of disbelief and revulsion generated by the destruction and genocide of the Second World War, to the unknown and exciting shores of America” (13). But where many immigrants to America looked for a better financial future, Frank did not care about achieving wealth. When it comes to capitalism and consumerism then, Frank had no interest in it. He experienced the luxuries of upper middle-class life and only wanted to break away from it. Or as Smith put it: “He fucking hates capitalism” (6). This is not to say that Frank was not an ambitious photographer. He was extremely ambitious in realizing his particular vision and having his vision recognized and celebrated. Although he was aware that he needed money to provide for himself and his family, he hated it when making money from his photography meant he had to limit his own creative vision in order to meet the demands of the client or magazine he worked for. An example of this was Life. Frank argued: “For me to be working on assignment for a magazine. It suggests to me the feeling of a hack writer or a commercial illustrator. Since I sense that my ideas, my mind and eye are not creating the picture but that the editors’ minds and eyes will finally determine which of my pictures will be reproduced to suit the magazine’s purposes” (qtd. in Day 22). Frank rejected the idea that there was a balance between realizing his personal creative vision and doing commercial work to pay the bills. He wanted a purity to his photographic pursuit. Hence, he applied for the Guggenheim Fellowship. After The Americans became widely appreciated and successful, Frank still did not indulge in the fame and fortune that came with it. Smith discusses the fact that Frank, as soon as he got success, changed his artistic approach: “Part of it is that Frank turned his back on success and found a harder way forward, taking a spider web of backroads to get as far away from a sure thing, the certain life, as he could get” (9). Frank would always be an outsider who personally was not interested in fame or wealth, he would always be a rebel. Cotkin also recognizes that Frank wanted to be on the outside: “He said that he had always had a ‘feeling of being outside.’ Photography allowed him to remain outside” (21). Frank himself thus wanted to live on the fringes of society where he saw adventure, movement and freedom. He wanted to purposely stay away from the trappings of wealth, consumerism and capitalism

33 which he found numbing and a cage. This personal philosophy is very much reflected in his photography. Robert Frank presents in The Americans a critique of consumerism and capitalism, both regarding the lower class and the upper class. He celebrates those outside this system, those living on the fringes of society, because that’s where freedom is found. Perry writes that: “Not only did Frank include pictures of African Americans, transsexuals and bikers in the same book as white, urban socialites—and noted that they were all “Americans”—he also implied that the people on the margins had something their social 'betters’ lacked” (2). For Frank this was in part represented by black Americans and thus very relevant for this thesis. About Frank’s vision of black America, Cotkin writes: “Frank possessed a vision of renewal and rebirth. He believed that the counter vision and lifestyle of America’s black population offered a viable alternative for white America” (19). Before we explore this vision of renewal and rebirth, I first want to discuss several photographs that show the other side of Frank’s argument, the sadness and emptiness of white American consumer culture and the pursuit of the American dream. He finds this sadness not only in the lower-class, the ‘losers’ of the economic system, but just as much with the rich and famous, the winners of the system. There are two photographs within The Americans with the title Movie Premiere--Hollywood where we see an actress in a beautiful, luxury dress at a movie premiere. Yet there is no joy in her face, no emotion at all. In both photographs she stares off camera, seemingly disinterested in what is happening around her. In the first photograph she is isolated from other people, wearing a beautiful dress but showing no emotion, a beautiful but joyless statue. In the second photograph she is surrounded by adoring fans, but again she shows little interest and emotion, while she is also out of focus. Through tight composition in combination with the main subject being out of focus, Frank creates a lonely alienation, despite the actress being surrounded by people. There are various other photographs in The Americans that depict opulence and wealth as empty, sad and void of emotion. Take for example Hotel lobby –Miami Beach where we see an elderly couple sitting on a couch. The clothing and accessories of the couple clearly indicate wealth. But again, there is no joy in the photograph, we see the man looking grumpy and annoyed, while the angle of the photograph also emphasizes the fact that the women is overweight. Wealth and riches, Frank communicates in this photograph, leads to unhappiness and gluttony. The photograph Charity ball--New York City shows a well-dressed man kissing the neck of a woman. George Cotkin compared this kiss in his paper to a ‘Dracula like embrace’. As Cotkin states: “A woman socialite, gaudy in jewels, in lifeless fashion and without a smile…accepts on her cheek the kiss of a man whose long fingers wrap around her

34 cold shoulders in a Dracula-like embrace” (26). It is clear that Robert Frank saw achieving fortune and fame not as the fulfillment of the American promise, but an empty, joyless pursuit that would leave one cold and detached. Again, like Cotkin and Perry, I take some interpretational freedom in reading the expressions in these photographs. But nevertheless, there is a stark difference between a genuine smile and the cold or angry stare off-camera. The validity of this reading also comes in its repetition. Photograph after photograph in The Americans shows cold, blank, annoyed expressions. Frank took great care in its selection so it is clear that the lack of joy expressed in these photographs was selected by Frank with intention. Frank also explored the other side of this American opulence. The lower class, who in Frank’s eyes were just as stuck in the same system of chasing financial prosperity and adhering to social conventions are also shown in The Americans as sad and vacuous. This was in fact a break with earlier documentary photography from the 1930’s that mostly sought to create compassion for those suffering from poverty. Weena Perry writes: “But unlike Evan’s famously neutral gaze, a number of Frank’s photographs present a sardonic and even blistering assessment of his subject matter” (2). To an extent this is logical. The sympathetic photographs of poverty were mostly taken during the depression era of the 1930’s while Frank took his photographs during the post-war economic boom. His focus was not to show those left behind by the economic system, nor was he politically driven, for example as a socialist or communist to seek economic change. Instead he wanted to expose the entire post- war economic boom and politics of consensus, of the nuclear suburban family and rise of consumer culture as vacuous, sad and unfulfilling. There are several photographs that depict the sadness of the lower-class of American society. Men’s Room- Railway Station Memphis, Tennessee depicts a man polishing the shoes of another man, surrounded by urinals. While the photograph Ranch Market—Hollywood depicts the counter of a diner with a woman behind it, probably a waitress. The expression on her face is one of unhappiness. In the photograph Assembly line—Detroit we see factory workers. Most of the factory workers are shown out of focus and as Cotkin notices about this photograph: “Wonderful analogues for the speeding assembly line which enslaves the workers and turns them into machines” (25). Workers in the photography of Robert Frank are not happy and fulfilled, like Cotkin notes: “When depicting workers, Frank shows them as sad and alienated, situated in all-night diners, elevators, buses and bathrooms” (25). For Robert Frank, American consumerism and capitalism was an entrapping machine where people would just become cogs. As I’ve discussed before another very important element to Robert

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Frank’s philosophy was movement. To be free was to be on the move and in Frank’s eyes many who were stuck in their jobs and social conventions had no ability to move freely. Even when they are in cars or on the move, these white, lower to middle-class Americans still seem to be stationary. An example of this is the photograph Canal Street—New Orleans. This photograph shows white Americans crossing each other on the street. Once again all we see are grumpy, sad, depressed expressions and because the photograph is framed tight and full of people going in opposite directions there is no sense of freedom of movement. They seem to be shuffling and bumping into each other. In the photograph Butte—Montana we see a white family sitting in a car, but still there is no sense of movement. Instead, through close framing and the family being packed into the car, they merely seem trapped. The lack of movement is telling for the way Frank saw those middle-class Americans trapped within the economic system and social conventions. But a very similar photograph, of a black family in a car, shows an entirely different picture. In Belle Isle—Detroit we see a black family in an open convertible, one of the children standing up with his head in the wind, plenty of space above. The photograph stands in stark contrast with Trolley—New Orleans where the trolley seems a jail, with the windows as prison bars and everyone stuck, immobile and isolated. The contrast is clear. With black Americans trapped together with white Americans in an oppressive system of segregation and racism they are just as stuck, but a black family in a car alone, does have freedom. Another photograph that indicates this is Indianapolis where we see a black couple on a motorcycle, about to drive off. They are young and the motorcycle is of course in itself a vehicle that symbolizes freedom and rebellion. I have discussed several photographs by Robert Frank where the emotions of the subject in the photographs were somber and sad. In the words of Cotkin, the sadness in The Americans is tremendous: “To be sure, one cannot understate the tremendous, almost numbing sadness that informs all of Frank’s photographs” (24). But there are sparse moments of joy that can be found in The Americans. One such photograph is Beaufort—South Carolina depicting a black woman in an open field, sitting on a chair and looking to the side. She is smiling ear to ear and this photograph might be the most joyful picture in the entirety of The Americans. It is also noteworthy that she has an incredible amount of space surrounding her, creating a sense of freedom and openness. This photograph stands in stark contrast with the emotionless statue we see in Movie Premiere—Hollywood. Perry compares the two: “In Frank’s eyes, a plump African-American woman wearing a simple country dress, sitting alone in a field, projects more beauty and grace than an elaborately dressed blonde starlet arriving at

36 a movie premiere: the former radiates joy, the latter an aloof anxiety” (2). And this is the paradoxical argument that Frank makes in the Americans. Frank does capture the oppressive realities of segregation and racism. But in his vision black Americans also have a freedom that white Americans, who are stuck within the social conventions of consumerism and capitalism, don’t have. Cotkin describes it as: “Black Americans became for Frank the representatives of authenticity and possibility, of freedom; they appeared apart from society but not alienated from themselves, occupying a space that allowed them strong expression of emotions, feelings and spontaneity” (26). I am aware that I’ve drawn to a great extent from the analysis of Perry and Cotkin as I agree with their interpretations. I am not the first to make these arguments about Frank’s vision but it is of great significance to illustrate that Frank, although he presented everyday segregation and racism in a similar way as Gordon Parks, very much differs in his vision of hope for black America. For Robert Frank black Americans had a counter-cultural freedom of movement and expression. They were liberated from class struggles and social conformity. They were free from the consumerism and capitalistic trap that the workers, middle class and even the rich and affluent fell into. I argue that for Gordon Parks the answer to segregation and racism was participation and integration within the American middle-class and consumer culture, instead of finding freedom in being separated from it. As I’ve discussed earlier, a major influence for Gordon Parks was poverty. Poverty and racism went hand in hand in his eyes, the former being a consequence of the latter. When he famously expressed that he chose his camera as a weapon against all things he dislikes about America—poverty, racism, discrimination, it is no coincidence that he mentions those three social ills in the same breath. Not only did Gordon Parks see poverty go hand in hand with racism where he wanted to use photography as a weapon to shed light on these realities, the camera also became his choice of weapons to personally lift himself out of poverty and fight racism that was directed towards himself. In his memoir A Choice of Weapons Gordon Parks describes his struggle with poverty extensively throughout a significant part of the book. It is only later in the book where decides to become a photographer. Parks writes: “I sat through another show; and even before I left the theater, I had made up my mind I was going to be a photographer” (178). Struggling in the beginning, he still worked as a porter on a train while practicing his photography. Parks would eventually find his break shooting fashion photography for a department store and after getting recognition winning a contest, he would start to work for Roy Stryker at the Farm Security Administration (FSA). In Washington while working for the FSA, which would later become part of the Office of War Information (OWI), Parks was

37 regularly subjected to racism, often with the threat of violence. Still, he found that his occupation as photographer and the organization he worked for sometimes shielded him from the threats of racist encounters. Parks describes one of those encounters: ““I just want to show you my OWI Credentials!” The word OWI got to him. “OK, lets’ see them,” he said, keeping the gun pointed at me. I showed him the card and he released me” (242). The racist encounters did get to Parks but just as he was about to explode, a kind encounter brought him back. As he states: “Everyone in the place looked as if he were a member of the Klan. My whole body seemed to be itching to fight—a last physical protest against the frustrations of the last six days” (272). He describes the kind encounter as: “A friendly word from a stranger, and a cigarette, had lifted me temporarily from the darkness” (273). Parks concludes his book stating that he recognizes the ambition and purpose his mother instilled in him: “She had given me ambition and purpose, and set the course I had since travelled” (273). In the last paragraph of the book, Parks writes: “My deepest instincts told me I would not perish. Poverty and bigotry would still be around, but at last I could fight them on even terms. The significant thing was a choice of weapons with which to fight them most effectively” (274). I refer to these quotes because they illustrate how Parks sought, through his photography, to lift himself out of poverty. He found in achieving success not only the means to resist racism that was heaped upon others, but also the means to resist racism directed at himself. To participate in the American dream and reach financial stability was therefore for Gordon Parks a way forward against racism. This, of course differs from Robert Frank who saw in the black community a freedom separate from the vacuous, opulent consumer culture in which he saw no emotion, no joy or spirit of life. Gordon Parks however would traverse both worlds, the opulent, consumerist fashion industry and the racist oppression suffered by black Americans in for example Harlem and the American South where they often lived in poverty. His attempt was to give black Americans suffering in the latter, access to the former. He would bring those two worlds together. An early example of this is when he shot a poor, old missionary woman in a predominantly black ghetto. He used the fees from shooting wealthy women he photographed to often photograph in the ghetto. Later he would exhibit his photographs and the photograph of the old missionary woman was the largest at the show. She attended and as Parks notes: “Despite the gathering of beautiful ladies and other affluent people, she was the most sought after. Nearly everyone in the place shook her hand before she finally went home in a taxi, I called for her” (216). The dichotomy of Gordon Parks’ photography career was that he was both a commercial fashion photographer shooting models, clothed in beautiful dresses and draped

38 with jewelry for fashion magazines, while also being a documentary photographer focusing on poverty and racism in ghetto’s and impoverished neighborhoods. But Gordon Parks enjoyed both and importantly, one inspired the other. As Jesús Constantino argues: “Far from a personal indulgence or financial necessity, Parks’ involvement in the fashion industry was, counter-intuitively, what gave his documentary work its political force” (790). The first moment that he decided he wanted to be a photographer was when he saw poverty depicted by photographers liked Walker Evans and Dorothea Lang. But when he was working as a porter, Parks would often study the photographs in fashion magazines left behind. Parks writes: “Vogue was one of the magazines well-to-do passengers left on the train. I used to study the luxurious fashion photographs on its pages and the uncommon names of the photographers who took them—Steichen, Blumenfeld, Horst, Beaton, Hoyningen-Huene. How lucky they were I thought” (196). His first job as a photographer was for a department store shooting fashion photographs, he greatly enjoyed the work and would keep shooting fashion photography throughout his career. In his memoir Parks notes that: “The dresses and models were beautiful. And Mrs. Murphy seemed just as excited as I was about the whole thing” (197). It is no surprise then that the photographs taken by Parks during his assignment in 1956, photographing segregation in the South, are influenced by his abilities and vision as a fashion photographer. I argue that the photographs Gordon Parks took of segregation in the South in 1956 show his vision of participation in consumer culture and fashionable clothing as a way of resisting against the everyday realities of racism and segregation. This argument was also explored by Kimberly Lamm. She notes that Life had a long history of creating patronizing images of African-Americans as icons of an almost absolute difference that rendered them objects of pity (139). This resonates closely with the historiographical discussion earlier in this thesis where I discussed the criticism against the ‘standard’ civil rights photography where black Americans where shown in a position of passive victimhood to white aggression. But the photographs made by Gordon Parks showing everyday segregation, particularly the ones depicting segregated water fountains, stores etc. also have black subjects that show a subtle but powerful resistance to the oppression they face. Lamm writes that: “The Restraints unequivocally demonstrates Park’s talent for working against the othering of African Americans in which photography was complicit” (139). This mostly happens through the women depicted in the photographs and the simple but beautiful dresses they were wearing. These dresses allow the women to participate and integrate in the middle-class consumer culture from which segregation policies tried to

39 exclude them. An example is the photograph Department Store, Mobile, Alabama, 1956 where we see a black woman and her daughter standing beneath a colored entrance. Although the colored entrance sign is clearly visible and takes up considerable space in the photograph, the woman and her daughter face away from the entrance, seemingly not disturbed by the segregation. Furthermore, they both wear nice Sunday dresses, taking attention away from the sign. Lamm argues that: “Although it is difficult to deny the strong presence of the sign, Wilson and her niece seem oblivious to it, and they clearly form the focus of the photograph” (135). Lamm discusses the fact that not much attention was paid to the clothing worn by the women in the photograph and that it made sense. She argues that where Jim Crow segregation is consequential and had a serious societal impact, women’s clothing is largely linked to superficiality, consumerism and image (136). It seems therefore logical that it is not often discussed together. But for this woman and her niece, to wear their beautiful Sunday dresses is a subtle way to resist being othered, to resist being alienated from American middle-class social conventions and luxuries. Lamm argues: “But these arguments rely on an entrenched bias against femininity, commodification and display, and do not account for the ways in which clothing has been part of African-American women’s subtle claim to visibility and respectability in American culture” (137). The photographs Parks took during his assignment in 1956 are shot in color. While many of his other photography assignments where shot in black and white, the color photography of this project shows us bright, vibrant colors. Both in the ‘colored’ signs but also in the vibrant colors of the women’s dresses. Lamm notices: “Parks used color film, which helps draw attention to the patterns and details of the women’s clothing” (140). A similar structure can be found in several of Gordon Parks’ photographs from the assignment. In At Segregated Drinking Fountain, Mobile Alabama, 1956 as well we see the signs of ‘colored only’ and ‘white only’ present that mark the black family as inhibited from equal participation in society. Because the second water fountain has a ‘whites only’ sign, the women and small girl have to wait in line for their turn to drink. But simultaneously their dresses take attention away from the signs and draw the viewers eyes towards the dresses and thus fashion of the woman. Lamm argues that: “Their clothes, however suggest care and feminine pleasure that supersedes the restrictions of the ‘WHITE ONLY’ sign and articulate a counter-argument to the racial hierarchies of value it attempts to enforce” (145). Another photograph that shows black American woman in their most fashionable Sunday dresses is Untitled Shady Grove, Alabama 1956. The title of the photograph is the same as the boy squatting and the dad and his children at the ice-cream store, but here we see three women

40 and a baby in their finest dresses. One woman is centered and looking back at the camera. In this photograph the dresses are center stage. There can be no denying the role Parks’ fashion sensibilities played in photographing segregation in the South. And these photographs stand in stark contrast with the poverty he depicted during the first part of his trip. It is clear that despite the poverty that these black Americans live in and the oppressive realities of everyday segregation, to put on ones best Sunday dress, becomes a subtle form of resistance against poverty and racism. To wear these dresses is to participate in American consumer culture from which segregation tried to exclude black Americans. No photograph captures this better than Ondria Tanner and her Grandmother Window Shopping, Mobile Alabama 1956. In the photograph we see a small girl and her grandmother standing outside a store window looking at the dresses worn by mannequins in the store. All the mannequins in the store are white and the grandmother seems to be gently holding back her granddaughter who wants to go in and pick out one of the dresses. The composition of the photograph where the grandmother and her granddaughter are behind glass creates a feeling of them being excluded. Lamm argues about this photograph: “This compositional choice symbolically positions the mannequins as a grid of recognizable order that is constituted by placing bodies marked by racial difference to its outside” (141). Compositionally, the photograph is depicting the same thing as the photograph Outside Looking In and could have very well carried the same name. There is also an interesting dynamic displayed between the grandmother and her granddaughter. The granddaughter looks longingly towards the dresses while her grandmother gently holds her back. As she, with her age, seems more aware of the realities of segregation that dictate that her granddaughter can’t participate in this part of fashion and consumer culture. Still, there is a subtle resistance in the fact that both grandmother and granddaughter wear simple, probably cheaper but nevertheless similar dresses to those displayed in the store. Despite the exclusion they still subtly participate in the fashion and resist the exclusionary segregation policies. Lamm argues this as well: “But even as this photograph depicts the historical layers of restraints – both Ondria’s and her grandmother’s—the girl’s dress is not dissimilar from those presented in the display case” (142). Untitled Shady Grove, Alabama, 1956, one of three photographs with the same title but in this case depicting a family in front of an ice-cream store, does not hold as clearly the dresses of women and girls center stage. The photograph is taken further away. Yet it is a warm and charming photograph, Parks perfectly captures the warm summer evening. It is here where his choice of color photography adds to the warm feeling. Despite the ‘white’ and ‘colored’ separation of the counters, the image of this family getting ice-cream on a warm

41 summer evening outshines the realities of segregation. Lamm notices a similar dimension to the photograph: “While the red moving through Untitled Shady Grove, 1956, defies segregation’s spatial restraint, there is an innocuous charm to this photograph that testifies to African-American respectability” (146). For Gordon Parks then, to move forward against and beyond segregation and racism was to present a vision of participation in consumer culture and integration within middle- class society. There is however a distinct absence of white Americans in the segregation photography of Gordon Parks. But in the photograph Untitled, Alabama 1956 we see three boys, one of which white, behind a fence. The white boy is looking directly at the camera. The boy in the middle is pointing a toy gun off frame. I argue that this photograph represents a vision for the future, where there is more integration of white and black Americans existing together. It shows the artificiality of segregation and illustrates how black and white American boys are perfectly able to happily play together. Integration and participation of black Americans in American consumer culture and accessing the middle-class was for Gordon Parks both a way of resistance against racism and segregation and the way forward for black Americans to be freed from its restraints and the often-resulting poverty. As Constantino writes: Gordon Parks documented the underappreciated visual history binding consumer culture to racial politics” (789). Parks was able to do so because of his experience in fashion photography which influence is clearly visible in the photographs he took in Alabama in 1956. Parks fought himself out of poverty through daring ambition and ultimately found success. As a fashion photographer he traversed the opulent, upper class world of fashion. But although he enjoyed fashion photography, a major part of his ambition was to photograph poverty, racism and everything he disliked about America. He was able to bring both worlds together. Constantino writes: “Parks spoke the visual language of the white middle class” (789). The vision of Parks stands in stark contrast with the vision of Robert Frank. The question then becomes if Robert Frank might have been shortsighted in his rejection of consumerism and middle-class wealth. For he was born in a relatively wealthy family and never had truly known poverty. Robert Frank’s vision was one of a counter-culture. He saw in black Americans a freedom from empty consumer culture. But it can be argued that he therefore dismissed the restrictions that black Americans experienced regarding consumer products and access to the comforts and lifestyle of the middle-class. Cotkin argues that Frank was aware of the oppressive realities of segregation and racism, that their freedom and authenticity was not without consequence. Cotkin writes: “Black authenticity, however is not

42 without a price. Blacks live in constant jeopardy, and their social position is clearly second class” (31). But in Robert Frank’s vision both white Americans and black Americans must be freed from their respective shackles. Cotkin argues that in Frank’s vision: “Blacks must be freed from the shackles of segregation, and whites must be liberated from conformity and spiritual alienation so that they may live freely and authentically” (31). Still it is a vision opposed to Gordon Parks’ attempt to show that racism and segregation inhibit black Americans to join what Frank so despises, financial prosperity and consumer culture. For Parks, poverty and racism go hand in hand and to resist racism is to find ways for black Americans to access the American middle-class and its respective consumer goods, to try to rise out of poverty. To do so would be a subtle form of resistance against the ‘othering’ that often took place regarding black Americans in photography and the media. Although the photography of Gordon Parks and Robert Frank oppose each other in their visions, I argue in the conclusion of this thesis that both visions are valid and resonate in contemporary American culture.

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Conclusion: Robert Frank’s and Gordon Parks’ Visions in Contemporary America In this thesis I’ve argued that there is a historiographical discussion surrounding civil-rights photography. Scholars such as Sara Wood and Martin Berger argued that there is a trope within civil rights photography that depicts white active aggression against passive, victimized black Americans. This mode of civil rights photography shows segregation and racism, but did it in a way where the structure of white control and black victimhood was still in place. As Wood notices: “Without denying the importance of these images, Raiford and Berger have questioned the primacy of such depictions of white aggression and black victimhood in photographic representations of the movement and their role in convincing white viewers of the righteousness of the cause” (68). Wood suggested a second mode of civil-rights photography that depicted small everyday realities of segregation and resistance against it, particularly focusing on sit-ins and voter registration photography. I proposed a third mode of photography where, before the civil-rights movement fully gained momentum, photographers captured the status quo of segregation in the South. Not by photographing extraordinary and spectacular events of violence, but by photographing the everyday, mundane but oppressive realities of segregation. Through the analysis of two photography projects, by Gordon Parks and Robert Frank I argued that they captured the everyday realities of segregation in similar fashion. In the second chapter of this thesis I explored photographs from both photographers that were taken in 1955 and 1956, depicting the status quo of Jim Crow segregation. A photograph by Robert Frank, Trolley—New Orleans perfectly captured the social segregation of gender and race in America. The windows functioning as separating jail bars. Similarly, Gordon Parks captured the everyday realities of segregation in Alabama in photographs such as Outside Looking In and photographs depicting segregated facilities such as drinking fountains, store windows and entrances. I also traced back two photographs in particular to the antebellum period where Tocqueville noticed the same power structure in the relationship between a black caregiver and a white infant. The purpose of the second chapter of this thesis was to connect two photographers that otherwise rarely are placed together in reviews and scholarly work. I argue that both photographers captured segregation and the societal ills of America while those were still an undercurrent, before they exploded in the 1960’s in protests and reform movements. In the third chapter of this thesis I argued that although both photographers show everyday segregation in the 1950’s in similar ways in their photography, the also present different visions of how it could be better. Robert Frank found in black America a counter-culture that, despite the restrictions of segregation, had a cultural and spiritual freedom away from restricting societal norms, consumerism and chasing

44 financial prosperity. He showed white America and the American dream as empty, sad and alienated. He did this both in his depictions of upper-class, wealthy white Americans as lower class, poorer Americans. Examples of photographs that illustrate this are Movie Premiere— Hollywood, Butte—Montana and Hotel Lobby—Miami Beach. Consumerism, capitalism and financial success as the epitome of the American dream was in opposition to Frank’s vision and philosophy. For Robert Frank, to live on the fringes of society was to have a freedom of movement that you couldn’t find in American social conventions. Robert Frank saw this freedom in black Americans. Because of racist policies and segregation, black Americans didn’t have access to upper-class prosperity and consumer goods. In the eyes of Frank, this gave them an authentic freedom. But Gordon Parks however saw poverty and racism as interlinked, his camera a weapon against both, including his own experiences with them. For him to resist segregation and racism was to participate and integrate within American consumer culture and middle-class society. To wear a fashionable dress was to participate and resist against the ‘othering’ of black Americans. The purpose of the third chapter thus was to illustrate that although Gordon Parks and Robert Frank depicted everyday segregation in similar ways, they are different in their visions for a better future. For Parks, the access to financial prosperity and to participate in American middle-class consumerism was a way to fight against racism and segregation. It was a way against the ‘othering’ of black Americans. But for Frank, black Americans had a counter-cultural freedom and authentic life because they were not sucked into the empty lifestyle of middle-class consumerism and capitalism. Although these visions oppose each other both can be found within contemporary American culture. One of the cultural aspects of black America in which Robert Frank saw a freedom of expression and movement was jazz. Robert Frank’s philosophy was very much in line with the Beat movement. Cotkin notes: “The Beat or Hipster was open to experimentation and lived, or sought to live, for the intrinsic fullness of each moment” (20). Jazz was a natural musical expression of beat philosophy. Cotkin furthermore explains: “Beat writings pulsate with the liveliness of jazz; blacks are walking expressions of uninhibited sexuality, of disdain for social convention” (26). Now Jazz was immensely popular throughout the 20th century. The musical history of jazz and blues that eventually turned into contemporary rap and hip hop is a research study on its own but I can’t go into it too deeply here. Nevertheless, in contemporary American culture, rap and hip-hop are now the most popular music genres. Rap finds its origin in black American culture but now has worldwide appeal to people from all colors and races. However, it still holds the counter-cultural energy that jazz has as well. The

45 popularity of rap then among white Americans can be in line with white America freeing itself from the spiritual alienation and mundanity of suburban middle-class consumerism. Of course, in the decades after Frank published The Americans this not only happened through black American culture such as jazz and rap but also in other ways such as the ‘hippie’ movement, rock and roll, sexual liberation etc. Still if the focus remains on contemporary rap, within its lyrics we also often find messages that run parallel to Gordon Parks’ vision. Many rap songs lyrics deal with the issues of poverty and racism in its lyrics while simultaneously rap also has a culture of opulence and reaching financial success. Rap itself is a means for black Americans to express and fight against racist experiences while also transcending poverty and gain access to upper-class wealth and luxuries. In a sense thus, rap and hip-hop exemplify the presence of both Gordon Parks’ and Robert Frank’s visions. In the current American debate about racism we can also find both Gordon Parks’ and Robert Frank’s visions. On the hand there is still a lot of discussion about racism as a driver of poverty and restrictions that inhibit black Americans from accessing financial prosperity. Simultaneously when it comes to black American culture there are debates about cultural appropriation. The questions that are raised concern white American’s appropriating black American culture such as rap which according to some proponents is a form of racism in itself. It seems to resonate with Robert Frank’s notion that white America needs to free itself from conformity and spiritual alienation. Is the appropriation of black American culture a form of doing so? I would leave that question open but want to conclude that this illustrates that the opposing visions of Robert Frank and Gordon Parks are not in fact incompatible but both find their place within the historical and contemporary debates about racism, poverty and segregation in America.

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Literature Bennet, Edna. “Black and White are the Colors of Robert Frank.” Aperture 9.1. (1961): 20- 22. Blackwell, Fred. Sit-in at Woolworth’s Lunch Counter. 1963. 10 March 2020. https://www.wisconsinhistory.org/Records/Image/IM2381 Berger, Martin. Seeing Through Race: A Reinterpretation of Civil Rights Photography. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2011. Barthes, Roland. Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography. Flamingo Edition. London: Fontana Paperbacks, 1988. Constantino, Jesús. “Harlem in Furs: Race and Fashion in the Photography of Gordon parks” Modernism/Modernity 23.4 (November 2016): 789-811. Cotkin, George. “the Photographer in the Beat-Hipster Idiom: Robert Frank’s the Americans.” American Studies 26.1 (Spring 1985): 19-33. Day, Jonathan. Robert Frank’s ‘The Americans’: The Art of Documentary Photography. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011 Don’t Blink. Dir. Laura Israel. Grasshopper Film. 2015. Franklin, Stuart. The Documentary Impulse. Phaidon, 2016. Frank, Robert. The Americans. Germany: Steidl, 2008. Gitlin, Todd. The Sixties: Years of Hope, Days of Rage. New York: Bantam Books, 1987. John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation. “About the Fellowship.” 15 May 2020. https://www.gf.org/about/fellowship/ Keller, Ulrich. The Highway As Habitat: A Roy Stryker Documentation 1943-1955. Washington: University of Washington Press, 1986. Kusmer, Kenneth. “Reviewed Works: The Sixties: Years of Hope, Days of Rage.” The Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography 114.4 (October 1990): 598-600. Lamm, Kimberly. “Between the Open and the Hidden: Clothing, Segregation, and the Feminine Counter-Archive in the Photographs of Gordon Parks.” Critical Arts 29 (December 2015): 134-149. Lubow, Arthur. “9 Photographs by Robert Frank Reveal His Mastery and Evolution.” The New York Times. 2019. The New York Times Company. 18 April 2020. https://www.nytimes.com/2019/09/10/arts/design/photographs-robert-frank-the-americans- .html Moore, Charles. Man Confronts Police Dog. May 3 1963. 5 March 2020. https://www.gettyimages.ie/detail/news-photo/demonstrator-waves-his-shirt-at-a-police-

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dog-held-by-an-news-photo/604615542 National Gallery of Art Elson Lecture 2009: Robert Frank. Soundcloud.com, March 26, 2009. Parks, Gordon. A Choice of Weapons. New York: Harper & Row, 1966. Parks, G. and R. Wallace. “The Restraints: Open and Hidden.” Life, 24 September: 98–109. Perry, Weena. “Robert Frank and Two Babies: The Americans at the Met.” Afterimage 37.5 (March/April 2010): 2-5. Raber, Kevin. “AB Robert Frank Guggenheim Application for The Americans.” The Luminous Landscape. January 14 2015. 10 March 2020. https://luminous- landscape.com/granting-process/ab-robert-frank-guggenheim-application-for-the- americans-450/ Raiford, Leigh. Imprisoned in a Luminous Glare: Photography and the African American Freedom Struggle. North Carolina: University of North Carolina Press, 2011. Stuart, Alexander. The Criticism of Robert Frank’s The Americans. MA Thesis. The University of Arizona, 1986. Web. 05 March 2020. Smith, RJ. American Witness: The Art and Life of Robert Frank. New York: Da Capo Press, November 2017. Taylor, Jack. “Reviewed Work(s): Seeing Through Race: A Reinterpretation of Civil Rights Photography by Martin A.” Journal for the Study of Radicalism 7.1 (2013): 152-154. The Gordon Parks Foundation. “Segregation in the South 1956.” 1 May 2020. http://www.gordonparksfoundation.org/gordon-parks/photography-archive/segregation-in- the-south-1956# Tocqueville, Alexis. Democracy in America. London: Penguin Books, 2003. Wood, Sara. “The Thousand and One Little Actions Which Go to Make Up Life: Civil Rights Photography and the Everyday” American Art 32.3 (Fall 2018): 67-85

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