Construction of the Empire State Building began on St. Patrick’s Day in 1930. The framework of the building rose into the New York sky at the rate of 4½ floors per week and the project was completed—under budget and ahead of schedule—one year and 145 days later. Under budget because the onset of the Depression in October 1929 more than halved the anticipated cost of the building; ahead of schedule because construction workers (estimated to comprise between 2,500 and 4,000 laborers) toiled on Saturdays and on every public holiday. The building was officially opened by President Herbert Hoover on May 1st, 1931, and was the tallest structure in the world until 1967.

The Empire State Corporation commissioned the 56-year old Lewis W. Hine to photograph the construction process. His images were to be used for advertising purposes, however, they also offer documentation of unsafe working conditions — Hine has been called a social reformer as much as a photographer. Earlier in his career he referred to himself as a “concerned photographer,” and the compelling photographs he took during the decade in which he worked for the National Child Labor Committee (NCLC) were instrumental in the ultimately successful campaign to prohibit child labor in the United States.

Prior to photographing the rise of the Empire State Building, Hine wrote: “I try to do with the camera what the writer does with words. People can be stirred to the realization of the values of life by writing. Unfortunately, many persons don’t comprehend good writing. On the other hand, a picture makes its appeal to everyone.”

See More: Photographs of the Empire State Building Under Construction

The New York Public Library has 42 of Hine’s photographs of the construction of the Empire State Building. This gelatin silver print is titled, almost certainly by Hine: “Icarus. High up on Empire State, 1931.”

Probably taken in the late spring of that year, as the building neared completion, Hine’s iconic photograph captures a young ironworker (he referred to them affectionately as “Sky Boys”) guiding a hoisting cable. The head of the unidentified ironworker appears to be on the same level as the distant clouds above New Jersey, his face peering directly into the sunlight. It is impossible to tell whether he is smiling or grimacing. It could be both at once. His body is fully extended and you can almost feel the tension in his arm muscles, and the awkwardness of his legs gripping tightly around the thin span of cable, which extends above and beyond the frame of the photograph. We cannot see what the other end is tethered to, giving the impression that he is throwing the cable into nothingness, performing a high-altitude version of the Indian rope trick. His position looks—and was—extremely precarious. Yet, like all of the ironworkers in Hine’s series of photographs, he appears to be completely fearless.

The photograph is a glorification of the triumph of the human spirit over danger and adverse working conditions, as well as an indictment of the utter lack of any of the safety precautions that are now standardized and codified in the construction industry. The title is ironic—although this young ironworker appears to fly, the fate of Icarus was to fall to his death. That is traditionally how this figure from Greek mythology is depicted—in freefall—and this is how Icarus is shown in a 1588 print by the engraver Hendrik Goltzius.

While it's rumored that hundreds died during the building's construction, officially 5 deaths were recorded.

Hine’s photograph is one of 250 items featured in The Polonsky Exhibition of The New York Public Library’s Treasures, which showcases items spanning 4,000 years from the Library's research collections—we'll be publishing one NYC-related object a day throughout September, and you can see everything at gothamist.com/treasures.

The Treasures exhibition opens Friday, September 24th, 2021 at the Stephen A. Schwarzman Building on Fifth Avenue and 42nd Street. Free timed tickets are now available here.