Was it all a dream?
Homecoming
Olin outside the New York Public Library.
Being New York toddlers in the time of Covid, he had only read about it in books until this trip.
Walking into that magnificent temple of knowledge, I told the twins about how a very pregnant HRM and I spent hours in those reading rooms doing research and compiling lists of possible names for them.
To me, this visit to the NYPL felt like a true homecoming.
Goseong
Goseong Choi has a new and remarkable exhibition of photography and video “Inhale, Exhale and the Space in Between” at Art Space Eonju Round in Seoul.
The works are a stirring meditation on the nature of confinement: the tides of desire, solitude, yearning, fear and hope that break over our souls. In a darkened room, the story is told by the subtle changes of light playing on human skin, the shifting skies outside the window and the cryptic oracle of fortune telling beads.
Neither my words - nor my photographs of the installation - could do the work justice. But here’s a portrait of Goseong taken today at the gallery.
In Memoriam: William Klein
Is there such a thing as photography without William Klein? Hard to fathom… as it always is when we loose one of the greats.
I had the pleasure of hearing him speak on a Sunday night at SVA some seven years ago. What a great artist and raconteur he was. I remember thinking: I wish we could continue this conversation in a bar somewhere and sip whiskey all night.
Rest in peace, maestro 💐
Amor, quizás
Itaewon
A portrait of me by my wife, Hye-Ryoung Min.
Bright, shiny day
밝고 빛나는 날
Abracadabra!
Olmedini left me a message today saying how he would like to come and visit me in Korea. Not this year, but next year when Luca and Olin turn five. So that he could entertain them and their friends with a magic show.
Never mind that he earns a living performing in the subway and money is always scarce; a round trip air ticket to Korea would mean a small fortune to him.
When he calls he never fails to ask about them. In fact it’s how our conversations always begin. And he knows their birthday by heart, and keeps track of their progress and education.
Like family.
Like a four-year-old
That’s me today, celebrating Photolucida’s Critical Mass, four-year-old style.
But I’ll be breaking out some good bourbon later tonight, once we put the twins to bed.
Finalist, Photolucida Critical Mass
I’m honored to be a Finalist in this year’s edition of @photolucida Critical Mass for my series “Olmedini el Mago”. And proud to be listed alongside some dear friends and admired colleagues.
El sistema solar
Last night, just before bedtime, HRM and Olin started working on a drawing of the planets in the solar system. Around 6AM, I opened my eyes and noticed Olin was not asleep in his bed.
So I went looking for him.
On the rocks
I’ll have a Trek on the rocks with a splash of soda!
Missed riding like crazy and it’s so good to be back 💥
The visible world
Photography starts to get interesting when you realize the visible world appears one way but feels another when it’s framed.
Green light
It’s coming up on four weeks since I took a tumble on my bike. The splint is gone next week and then I’ll start PT for the thumb and index fingers on my right hand.
Not sure when the doctor will give me a green light to ride again… but I don’t think I can hold out much longer.
Going a bit stir-crazy without my bike, Antigua.
ER
After waiting for days for the rain to clear out, the forecast for last Saturday was bright and sunny. So I suited up and started out on a ride early AM. About an hour in, I wiped out on the still wet pavement and landed in the ER. Thankfully what I thought was a broken right thumb was only dislocated. My body was a bit roughed up in places but otherwise oK.
It’s been a week already. I have a splint on my right arm, which slows me down quite a bit. It’s strange to suddenly be a lefty in my fifties. And I mean, how do you even eat without chopsticks in a city like Seoul?
A week ago, when I got on my bike before sunrise, the Han River was shrouded in the heaviest mist. The landscape was like a dream unfolding in front of me. And as I picked up speed, I felt myself leaving the ground, taking flight over the still sleeping city. And that’s what I’ve missed so much these past seven days: the song in the heart, the intoxication of beauty in the eyes.
I’ll be out of circulation for a month. I’m sure the weeks will pass eventually. In the meantime, I’m gonna walk until I ride!
The final countdown
A week from today we hit the road on the first leg of our Seoul - Busan cross-country trip. I’ve been training in earnest for this since last fall. Start to finish it’s 633 kms; we gave ourselves four days to do it. Grueling, punishing, exhilarating all rolled into one!
It takes a special kind of chutzpah to think I can put my fifty four year old body through this, but my mind says yes and my heart is sworn to it.
Over the last ten months, my greatest teacher has been pain. If you can get to the other side of pain, understand it and overcome it, you always come out tougher and stronger, always a better rider.
Hurt is ignorance; knowledge is healing.
Wether I make it all the way - or not - remains to be seen. But no doubt it will be an unforgettable journey.
A photographer’s journey.
For photographers, the personal project is the single, most formidable way we can push our limits and refine our artistic vision. Personal projects come in all shapes and sizes. Sometimes ideas are executed in a matter of weeks or months, while others take years to reach fruition. But while every photographic exploration follows a unique path, there are certain basic questions we can ask ourselves in order to create structure and definition for any personally driven work. Among these: Which ideas and concepts will make for a meaningful artistic journey? How do we determine realistic parameters for our photographic ideas? Where can we secure the resources we will need to see them through? What are proven strategies for developing and managing an ongoing body of work? When is a body of work complete and ready for presentation? What is the right venue for sharing our work publicly?
These are some of the questions we will explore as we focus on your work in my upcoming online class via PhotoPhlo “The Personal Project: From Concept to Final Presentation”.
The class is a weekend intensive and is meant for Intermediate and Advanced students. However, if you are already at work on your first project and need guidance, feel free to register for the class as well.
Here
“Papi, sit with me”
“Right here, Luca?”
“Yes, it’s pretty”
Time travel
I never imagined sprinting on my bike would land me all the way back to the 15th Century Joseon Dynasty era!
Owning our ideas
What exactly is a writing workshop for photographers? Why is it even necessary? Shouldn't photographers be communicating their ideas through images?
Writing about our photographs is not equivalent to explaining them away in words. This would be impossible. Writing, however, is an essential part of a photographer's practice, as it helps us to delineate the contours of a project and produce the texts necessary to get our work out into the world. Describing our work and creative process in words not only opens a door for our audience to more deeply understand our photographic intentions, it is a way to reach out to our communities in order to secure the resources we need to realize our creative vision. Most importantly, writing is a part of photographic authorship and owning not only our images, but also our ideas.
So join us for this workshop! It will be a small gathering of like-minded colleagues coming together to put words to their photographs; coffee percolating, sleeves rolled up, photos on the wall, keyboards at the ready.
More info here.