I'm an eye. A mechanical eye. I, the machine, show you a world the way only I can see it. I free myself for today and forever from human immobility.
I'm in constant movement. I approach and pull away from objects. I creep under them. I move alongside a running horseÕs mouth. I fall and rise with the falling and rising bodies. This is I, the machine, maneuvering in the chaotic movements, recording one movement after another in the most complex combinations.
Freed from the boundaries of time and space, I coordinate any and all points of the universe, wherever I want them to be. My way leads to the creation of a fresh perception of the world. Thus I explain in a new way the world unknown to you.
Anybody doesn’t like these pitchers don’t like poetry, see? Anybody don’t like potry go home see television shots of big hatted cowboys being tolerated by kind horses. Robert Frank, Swiss, unobtrusive, nice, with that little camera that he raises and snaps with one hand he sucked a sad poem right out of America onto film, taking rank among the poets of the world. To Robert Frank I now give this message: You got eyes.
Literally, no man ever sees himself as others see him. No photograph or reflection ever gives us the same slant on ourselves that others see. It has often been proved on the witness stand that no two people ever see the same accident precisely the same way. We see through different eyes and from different angles. But if we could see things as other people see them, we could come closer to knowing why they do what they do and why they say what they say.