Ed Panar

t the recent show of Garry Winogrand’s color photography from the 1950s and ’60s, presented at the Brooklyn Museum, a woman in her seventies was surprised to see her teenage self on a sidewalk with friends. There she was, frozen in her youth by Winogrand’s camera. The anonymity of the street, a subject so dear to photographers, was suddenly deeply personal. Generally, the images remote, requiring distance. But we can never rule out the possibility of something suddenly closing the gap. An image can jump into our lives with quite unexpected resonance.