HCB's photograph embraces the clutter of the city and works with it, graphically, in a way that at most one of Krawesky's does, rather than carving it all out of the frame to simplify the problem of taking a picture.
HCB's photograph blurs the motion of the man, abstracting him into everyman. In to, it turns out, a representation of all the people who were making that same jump that day, but we don't know that offhand. We do see the abstract figure leaping.
HCB's photograph shows the man leaping to... somewhere? Nowhere? We don't know. We are free to guess, to extrapolate, to imagine, to spin allegories.
HCB's photograph distills a real event, albeit a tiny one, to its essence, places it in a frame that feels realistic by embracing the clutter of the city, and abstracts that event into something we are free to enlarge in our own minds.
Krawesky's pictures, on those rare occasions when anything at all is happening, feel unreal because he tends to crop out the clutter, and abstract nothing at all, leaving nowhere for us to go. We fall back the appeal of graphics and the color, and that is about it.
There are bits and pieces. The woman with her hair blowing over her eyes strikes me as having an element of something, but the rest of the frame is just a mess. The man standing low down by the window with LINC printed on it feels more realistic, more urban-cluttered, but it is utterly static. Nothing is happening, where do I go with this? The boy leaping for the sign feels like something. Maybe it wants to be an expression of childhood or something, but somehow there is a sterility to the frame that sabotages that -- all that empty space.
And so on. There are flashes of something here and there, but nothing comes together.