This image from the Robert Frank show, currently on at the Jeu de Paume museum, continues to haunt me… Taken in Postwar Paris, it could also have been shot yesterday. A cold spring city. A grey moment in civilization. A fear of poverty. And faith and hope incarnate in just one flower. What touches me in particular about the Paris photos he chose for the exhibition is the fact that flowers are the subject matter, and not just accessory objects, of about a third of the Paris part of the show. Sometimes melancholy and literally cut off from their roots, sometimes incandescent in the urban filth, they express with particular poignancy a time of transition.