One of the cool things that you could relatively easily is to create a color or black & white image from the same digital file.  You could do this with film but it would much more work.  Then you’re left with a choice. What works better. The images I’ve included is this entry are obviously from the same file. I think they both work on some level. Is that a cop out?

Today I added quite a few names to my Photographers links list. Many of them are quite famous, others less so. They all have one thing in common, outstanding photography. Notables that are missing such as Robert Frank, Garry Winogrand, Bruce Davidson and others, do not have a web site, or at least not one that I could find. Looking at these photographers in both inspirational and cause for some unhappiness. Inspirational is obvious, unhappy as they have achieved through their talent and hard work something I can only envy.

Self-portraits do hold certain advantages over other types of portraits. You don’t have to feel uneasy about confronting the subject to ask their permission to photograph. I suppose you can still feel uneasy, but in most cases you don’t, or I don’t. You don’t have to get a model release. I mean you could, but what would be the point?  Usually, you’re pretty cooperative. You have a pretty good idea on what you want to look like. There is no fee involved. No one else has to know. All in all it’s not a bad idea. On the other hand, there may be some element of vanity in self-portraits. I mean if you thought you were particularly repulsive looking, and you weren’t too crazy, would you really what to record it? Save it to silver or a digital file?  Of course self-portraits can also render some not so hidden truths…that maybe you are a little nuts.

The following is photographer Bernard Gotfryd’s recollection of his portrait shoot with Gore Vidal

“There wasn’t much time to talk about anything specific, and I had to rush to my next assignment, but we still managed to have a cup f coffee together. When I told him he resembled an uncle of mine who had disappeared during World War II, he said:”I hope you have pleasant memories of him.” “I certainly do,” I said. “in that case,” he said  “I’ll take it as a complement.”

A nice interchange.  Bernard Gotfryd was a holocaust survivor who later became Newsweek photographer. I’d like to find his book “The Intimate Eye: Portraits by Bernard Gotfryd”.

This is a photograph of my father Jim Sr.  A very neat guy. He looks a bit John Giotti like in this pic. I think it’s the hair. Enviable. You could compare this to the photo of the criminal a few posts down. It’s probably an unfair comparison, especially to my father.  He’s 85 going on 60. I hope I’m half as with it when I am his age.  Of course that would be a considerable improvement over my current condition.

One of my favorite books is “It Can’t Happen Here” by Sinclair Lewis. It’s sort of a lighthearted romp about fascism in America, circa 1935. I’m not very adept at reviewing books so I won’t try.  But, one of the main tenets of the novel is that we can tell what is going on around us, if only we listen to the signs and signals, and stop burying our heads or other parts of our bodies in the sand. Fascism, doesn’t just appear one day, it develops and grows until what we once thought was isolated instances of an over zealous official, are actually calculated repressive policies.

Once such possible sign happened to me a little over a year ago. I like to photograph the sights, scenes and smells of a city. I was in the middle of shooting quite a few pics around the famed “milk bottle” in the Fort Point channel area when I was approached by one of Boston’s finest.  He’s the fellow with the blue uniform and badge approaching me in the photo. I think, but I’m not sure, but if you look close, you can see his trigger finger on his gun…and the very least, he’s thinking about it.  In any event, it’s not a very good photo, but it is evidence!  He then asked me what I was doing?  “It’s a milk bottle”. Why was I doing it? “It’s a milk bottle”.  Where’s my identification?  “It’s a milk bottle”. And, that I should stop immediately. “It’s a milk bottle”.  He didn’t ask for my film, which is a good thing as I was shooting digital.

What did I learn from this experience?  I learned that the seemingly innocent milk bottle was actually a secret government installation.  Now, what does this has to do with Sinclair Lewis’s book?

I still like this photo . It was taken years…decades before the advent of digital photography. Back then, the process was part of the photograph. I worked with a lot of chemicals that probably never did me any good. In fact, to this day, I believe working in a darkroom caused me to age, and my hair to turn grey. On the other hand the type of film you used and what you developed it in contributed to the “look and feel” of the photograph. In this case I used Agfa B&W film (forgot exactly which film), developed with Rodinal, an Agfa concentrated film developer. The end result is muted tones and a grain structure that is almost geometric. Of course this was before grain became noise.
Nonetheless, I liked it…I still do

On a regular basis I get stopped on the street for photographing..taking a picture…or look like I’m taking a picture. Usually it’s one of Boston’s finest, or private security. A couple of years ago, after continued harassment from the MBTA and South Station security I asked the ACLU to look into it. Seems a bit Orwellian to me, but I’m paranoid. They (the ACLU) were very accommodating, but in the end, nether of us had the energy to pursue it. I probably should have, it’s not too late, what we took for granted before September 11, 2001 is slipping away.

But to be fair, I do look pretty threatening. Especially with 20 pounds of back braking, toe tapping camera equipment, hanging around my neck. A shirt, tie, cell phone, occasionally comfortable shoes, trousers, etc. I often mistake myself for a terrorist, especially while shaving. And when I’m feeling especially bold, I’ve actually photographed myself while looking into a mirror….it’s downright traumatic.