B&W photography is still alive and well. It got a big boost with the invention of the Piezography B&W inkjet printing systems and of course the development of digital cameras.

I've got to disagree with Miguelito to some extent - I think a neoWPA would draw could produce a body of work as impressive as that of the depression era. I got to visit the Sacramento warehouse which houses the "California Collection" of art, Indian regalia and baskets, gold-rush stuff, and so on. Among the collection was a huge amount of WPA art, which had never been curated. In fact, they were just beginning to catalog the collection (1990). The overwhelming majority of works of art I saw were, say, average, often mediocre. But then here and there you would find a art superstar"s lost work, like Benny Bufano or Anton Refreigier. What's missing today, imo, isn't a similar talent pool, it's the absence of an organized labor movememt.

I loved Tim Robbin's film, "Rock the Cradle."

What would our emotional reaction to the photographs be if instead of entitling the post "Two Dreamers," RR had called the entry "Posing the Subject"?

For that matter would changing the "1935" date to 1928 or 1947, neither of which would be anachronistic in setting or costume, affect our response?

Well, yes, our emotional reaction might have been different. Maybe we'd say "Wow, who made that poor little girl pose in such a sad-looking way? What's going on with that?" We might wonder what the photographer wanted us to think about the photo or the child, or him/herself.

If the first photo were titled "God is with you, child," it would draw our attention to the blackness into which the child is staring, and by contrast, the unseen light washing over her.

If it were colorized and entitled "Waiting for Santa" it would be all Norman Rockwelly, although not one of his more upbeat images.

But, both these photos seem intended to convey something of what went on in the depression years, with or without posing. Hence, Resettled farm child, New Mexico, 1935.

We pretty much choose our own responses--sometimes we do it without considering that the artist--or the subject, or the person who shows the art, might be working hard to create a specific emotional response as well as simply pressing the button. (Putting the Art in Artifice as it were.) We might analyze the crap out of the images, or we might just go "Wow, the depression must have been tough," and spend a few minutes chatting about WPA.

By the way fellas, I'm not sure I agree about how artistically great those bad ol' days were, or that a decent body of art couldn't come out of these times, zombie proletariat and all. And I'm sometimes suspicious of B&W photographers--I'm like "Hey, plain old color film isn't good enough for ya?" (Although I will say that nothing enhances my own classically delicate features like the genteel refinement of a B&W print.)

I also speculate that Black & White photography launched the 20th century wave of anorexia--hefty models were in until Black & White became all the rage...any takers on that theory?

Let's see, what was my point? Oh yeah, even the loneliest-looking work of art is often a crowded thing, what with all the people, ideas, cultural significances and occasionally outright lies zooming around, rife with persuasion, sometimes crashing and causing people to actually talk to each other about what the hell things mean.

And all because 75 years ago somebody may or may not have said "Honey, go over and sit on that bench so I can take your picture."

Wow, what an unexpectedly bizarre and cynical thread.

The first image reminds me of my mom, Rootie, who grew up in similar circumstances, judging by her stories and what few photos exist from her childhood. That's was dirt-poor looks like.

Anyway, the way you can tell the photos are authentically from the time period (Ellen) is by how skinny the girls are. Babies born after World War II were much better fed. My mom was that skinny, her collarbone plainly visible, her dress ill-fitting, and her socks falling down.

Yes, this is an odd thread, isn't it? Someone posts something they think is unassailable, only to find that not even the seeming patron saint of the WPA is immune from suspicion.

Does it represent the now-overwhelming politicization of our lives?

For so long, it seemed that art could exist outside of politics, or at least exist in a loosely "liberal" world where most of us who identified as artists, or "arty" or even as "patrons of the arts" could go about in a bubble of goodwill. That's gone now, replaced by analysis and self-examination everywhere we look.

Back in the day, friends who came from Behind the Iron Curtain used to say that our artistic disagreements were silly, contrived and came from a place of entitlement. They were frustrated that we didn't understand that art existed in a world of political life and death. I believe I'm learning what they meant.

Let's deliver the snark on this one, people:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=120028213

Come on, I know you can. Please don't disappoint.

My art expertise can be bracketed by two statements which mark the extremes of what I might normally say when going through an art exhibition.
"Hey, that looks pretty cool", to, "What the hell is THAT supposed to be?" The two pictures fall ih the pretty cool category.
My knowledge of classical music is even more limited than that but I am reminded of a program I listened to on NPR once about different composers renditions of Romeo and Juliet. In listening I could relate some of the musical passages to parts of the play, but if I hadn't known the title, that is to say, what the music was "about", I am sure that it would have been a different listening experience.