Category: Documentary

Life, as we knew it, vanishing before our eyes.

“As a fledgling street photographer strolling up and down the streets of cities, I quickly became aware of Time and its erosive power. …for it seemed to me that what was about to vanish was important and irreplaceable, and frankly, I wanted my photographs to offer, in some manner, the power of resuscitation. Actually, I still do, though I no longer believe that photographs can prevent the homely past from being plowed under; rather, I believe that photographs – especially good photographs that compel our interest – help us to remember; and even more importantly, they help us to decide what is worth remembering.” — John Rosenthal –Exhibition lecture, National Humanities Center

Mr. Rosenthal expresses my own feelings as I walked a once vibrant, commercial street this past Sunday; and this, surrounded by an upscale, residential, neighborhood. Forty percent of the commercial buildings now stand empty; some for years. The fashion boutique shops – some gone; one remains; yet, looking shabbier with each visit. The independent coffee shop and a chain restaurant – long gone. A food market, hardware store, one upscale restaurant and a movie theatre hang on. The independent bookseller struggles to survive under new management.

(click image for larger view)

Wishing wells and mandalas

listen to warm
thaw watching egos dissolving
into a sea of compassion

[ Javascript required to view QuickTime movie, please turn it on and refresh this page ]

(click on images for larger view) 

The seeing eye

Last evening I read from “Imogen Cunningham, Ideas without end” by Richard Lorenz; and again just before going to lunch with my friend, David White. These readings, and looking at her photographs, inspired me to write in my journal, “…intend to see more and deeper.”

“You have to have it in you first, you don’t learn it. The seeing eye is the important thing.” — Imogen Cunningham, Dialogue With Photography by Paul Hill , ISBN: 0948797665

The two photographs made at the restaurant had nothing to do with lunch, or David, or our various discussions on business, or mindfulness (well maybe that). Yet these images will set well, in my memory, this lunch as an honor to Imogen Cunningham; even though David and I never spoke her name; or discussed her extraordinary photographs. (click on images for larger view)

Christmas = Children singing

“Adventure is not only measured in kilometers. Strong emotions are not only found in front of the Parthenon. Emotion, if you are worthy of it, will be felt before the smile of a child returning home with his school books, a tulip in a vase touched by a ray of sunlight, or the face of a beloved woman.” — Willie Ronis

(click here to view additional photographs of Sophia’s first Christmas program performance)

(clicking photograph below will bring up larger view)

do you have the time?

unable to find it
where did the time go?
often killing it
thoughtlessly
stalking answers
to questions sans reason
killing and eating
time
will tell
or fly

really?

perhaps if I’d saved some
or spent less

if you have a minute
share it well

The above poem floated around in my mind for a long time. Last week I began to look at and move the words around on the screen; while also contemplating images that may accompany them. On Saturday I received a call from my friend Doug. He informed me that he was in Thiensville, my home town, attending a funeral for a former student; Rick Borkin, 42 years old, a volunteer firefighter in Thiensville for 16 years, died during a training exercise 12/8/08. Firefighters from all the surrounding cities and towns attended. The appropriate photograph appeared from my attending this solemn event.

Click here for a slide show of additional images
(clicking on images below will bring up larger view)

“buzz” in world all a twitter

“…the age of Photography corresponds precisely to the explosion of the private into the public, or rather into the creation of a new social value, which is the publicity of the private.” – Roland Barthes, 1980

(click images for larger view)

So I opened my virtual eyes/ears to the twittering world; the virtual equivalent to walking into a room full of people; some you may know; some you’ve never met. Two weeks into this world of tweets, I still wonder if the time it takes to sift through the noise is worth harvesting a few charming voices and remarkable links they provide. But then I have a similar reaction at live networking events. I don’t consider myself antisocial; rather I like my socializing to feel rich and worthwhile.

Many of these twittering people seem to do it virtually 24/7. As in any social situation some of the people I’ve chosen to “follow” have valuable things to say and share; while others seem to feed a need to hear (or read) their own words between sharing useful or valuable information. One of several odd feelings I’ve experienced: invisibility when I’ve attempted to make connections; to “speak,” as in “reply,” to a number of those I follow; and my replies appear lost in cyberspace. Quite unlike a live networking event.

Another odd feeling I experience: akin to listening to one side of a phone conversation which I’m not meant to hear. Then all of a sudden a designer will drop a link to a fabulous collection of art; or a Non-Profit will alert me to a petition worth signing or some other worthy cause; only to return to what seems like hours of needless tweeting and chirping. Except, it’s not like birds in the trees. I feel a need to read (or at least scan) each tweet — in case I miss something of value. Puzzled. Reading. Listening. Looking.

How do you feel about the “new social media;” and how it fits or doesn’t fit into your life?
I’d love to hear your comments here or Twitter Imagist.

Good morning winter

“I think the main ingredient, or a main ingredient for photography is curiosity. If you’re curious enough and if you get up in the morning and go out and take pictures, you’re likely to be more lucky than if you just stay at home.” – Elliott Erwitt

home
with camera and shovel

(click image for larger view)

Grant Park — 40 Years Apart

Tuesday, November 4th, 2008, Grant Park, Chicago Illinois: 70,000 ticketed guests, with who knows how many additional participants, gathered to listen to President-elect Barack Obama; elected just minutes before. This group of hundreds of thousands of young and old, rich and poor, of all colors, genders, and ethnicities gathered to hear our first Irish-African-American President inspire them with a message of hope and determination to make the country, and indeed the world, a better place for our children and grandchildren. While not there, I watched this event on a screen, through tears of great joy; shared with Spike Lee, Jesse Jackson and Oprah.

(click images for larger view)

Wednesday, August 29th, 1968, Grant Park, Chicago, Illinois: Just 40 years earlier; just 4 years after President Lyndon Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act into law; at the hight of the Viet Nam War and the military draft; as a twenty two year old photo journalist, I was in Grant Park with 15,000 others, including Jean Genet, Allan Ginsberg and William Burroughs (none of which lived to see today). Instead of tears of joy and hope; we had tear gas, clubs and blood to contemplate and record on film and in our memories.

Today the memories of 1968 blend beautifully with 2008 memories.
We wanted change then and we want it today.

Listen to Keb Mo’s America