Each photograph in this issue is worthy of consideration in depth. There is no other way of their experiencing your fullest contribution of the equation. So is each group worthy of discovering in depth. So are the groups taken together. So are the twenty-five photographs; if one wishes.
Only in the case of two lens images seen overlaid in one print (multiple exposure, double printing) is the viewer given the obvious signal to both extract X & T separately, and respond to each as autonomous "pictures,” and then to consider the two dimensional "picture” of the super-imposed X , K, Y, etc.
"He doesn’t know, he can’t say, before the facts, and he doesn’t even want to know or to say; the facts themselves loom, before the understanding, in too large a mass for a mere mouthful: it is as if the syllables were too numerous to make a legible word.
Laughlin is the chief luminary of New Orleans and Louisiana since Louis Moreau Gottschalk (1829-69). Let me say, white luminary. But, just as the citizens there know Gottschalk because it is the name of a department store, and take no pleasure or pride in names like Buddy Bolden, King Oliver, Jelly Roll Morton, Bunk Johnson or George Lewis, Clarence Laughlin is almost unknown on his home grounds.
With Sommer we enter the world of the incredible and somebody locks the Doors of Perception behind us. It is almost as unbelievable a world as the one in which the SS officer, who has shot down the child for refusing to go into the gas chamber 'nicely,’ is hypersensitive to poor tempi in the playing of Beethoven’s Opus 135.
In Bullock’s photograph, Print 15, the redwood is dead, the horsetails live on, as symbols of the force of life and the feeding of life by what dies. The horsetail of paleolithic time was bigger than the redwood. This is the kind of message to read from Bullock—an enigmatic gazing at objects seen merely at one selected intersection of their time.
"Now I can pity the poor pianist I once was who went through the agonies of Hell before each performance. How fortunate we are that the camera solidifies our performance in advance. I always cringe when I hear the phrase "biographical data”—at least when it applies to myself.