The symposium on "Photographic Collecting, Past and Present, in the United States, Canada and Europe" took place at the International Museum of Photography/George Eastman House, October 12-14, 1978. There were 200 registrants, mainly dealers, and about 350 attended.
I was beginning to write a few words about Aaron Siskind at seventy-five when the phone rang. On the other end was that nonpareil typographer and designer from Taloga, Oklahoma, Alvin Doyle Moore. He said: "I'll tell you something you don't know. Art Sinsabaugh tells me that Siskind has no running water in his darkroom in Chicago..."
Most of my childhood unfolded in the greenhouse and garden of my grandparents, who were florists in Oregon during the Great Depression. Growing up was an involvement embosked in plant life: watering, planting, weeding, watching, gathering, and arranging floral displays, which was our livelihood.
On a plain in England where one obtains a 360-degree view of unobstructed horizon there stands a great achievement of neolithic man. This configuration of stones with its massive uprights and lintels shaping curious spaces between them has remained an enigma for centuries.
I photograph at night using either a 35mm rangefinder or, now, almost exclusively, a 2¼ x 2¼ twin-lens reflex camera on a tripod. I use a common constant-beam flashlight intermittently played upon nude figures who have been asked to explore with their bodies environments ranging from my own backyard in Connecticut to places in Canada, Colorado, New Mexico, and California.
There is a tale told by the Irish tinkers, the oldest one they tell and in a sense their Genesis; it is about the Crucifixion and a tinker’s betrayal of Christ. When the carpenter refused to make the cross, the legend goes, a blacksmith and a tinker stole the carpenter’s saw and willingly did the job.
In summer, clouds rarely form in the Aegean sky and the Greek isles lie exposed to a sun of blinding intensity. The light is harsh, clear and unyielding, creating contrasts so strong and shadows so dense that they give a photographer pause. Yet, more than nine years ago Laurence Bach abandoned the muted golden illumination of Italy for the challenging light of one of those islands—Paros.
Walter Chappell Born in Oregon in 1925, Walter Chappell studied piano and musical composition concurrently with architectural drawing and building construction. His Metaflora project began in 1973 and a grant from the National Endowment for the Arts in 1977 contributed to the eventual publication of Metaflora Portfolio, ten images of plantlife autographed within a high-voltage, high-frequency field.