Buy Robert Frank’s Book The Americans
Best offer The Americans Revised Edition with free US shipping available in hardcover.
The Americans (Hardcover)
by Robert Frank (Photographer), Jack Kerouac (Introduction)
Book Details
* Hardcover: 180 pages
* Publisher: Steidl/National Gallery of Art, Washington; Revised edition (May 30, 2008)
* Language: English
* ISBN-10: 386521584X
* ISBN-13: 978-3865215840
* Dimensions: 8.5 x 7.4 x 0.9 inches
* Shipping Weight: 1.9 pounds
* Rating: 
Book Description
In 1958, the first edition of Robert Frank’s The Americans was published in Paris. Les Américains contained Frank’s 83 photographs in the same sequence as all subsequent editions, with the image on the right hand page, but juxtaposed with historical texts about American society and politics, gathered by Alain Bosquet. The following year, in the first American edition, the French texts were removed and an introduction by Jack Kerouac was added. Over the subsequent 50 years, The Americans has been republished in many editions, in numerous languages, with a variety of cover designs, and even in a range of sizes. It is the most famous photography book ever published, and it changed the face of the medium forever.
Robert Frank discussed with his publisher, Gerhard Steidl, the idea of producing a new edition using modern scanning and the finest tritone printing. The starting point was to bring original prints from New York to Göttingen, Germany, where Steidl is based.
In July 2007, Frank visited Göttingen. A new format for the book was worked out and new typography selected. A new cover was designed and Frank chose the book cloth, foil for embossing, and the endpaper. Most significantly, as he has done for every edition of The Americans, Frank changed the cropping of many of the photographs, usually including more information. Two images were changed completely from the original 1958 and 1959 editions.
The Americans Review
Like an elusive text in search of itself, Robert Frank’s 1958 book The Americans has changed format each of the four times it’s changed publishers. From the text heavy French version to the oversized aperture reprint, Frank has continued to refine his work each time it appears in print.
In the Scalo version, the place-name captions have been removed from the pages opposite the photographs and collected in the back of the book. Forget any ideas you might have of Frank’s book being a travelogue. In place of the itinerary, the Scalo edition finally establishes the ORDER of the book’s photographs as the crucial ingredient in Frank’s complex vision of America. The 83-photograph sequence cuts between elliptical narrative of the open road and comparative sociology of dead-end lives as Frank turns free association into inescapable logic and then back again. The result is the most masterful combination of photographs in book form.
The subjects of Frank’s photographs roam this fractured typology like prophets locked in an unstable time loop. Geography no longer takes center stage as the formative element of their photographic selves. In some small but significant way, the americans in the Scalo edition reclaim the intentionality of their sadness, anger, and alienation. The bitter and often unwilling nature of their engagements with Frank take center stage, each as profound an act of refusal as Frank’s own denunciation of the pasteboard optimism of ’50s America.
The book is a little smaller than the Delpine, but that’s the only real negative (if it is one) I can think of. The main thing to me is that the photos themselves are how Frank intended them to look. Gone are the overly-lightened faces that plague the Delpine book. This is a pet peeve of mine that kills many photos in this Photoshop age. This is very obvious in the New Orleans trolley photo. In the Delpine work, the faces of the white passengers are totally washed out, and the black faces are awkwardly lightened (someone apparently thought they were helping Frank’s work). That’s all corrected here. In this Steidl edition things are shown as they were intended. One can even see details in the face of the man at far left, even though it is partially obscured by a window reflection.