I've been renewing my relationship with libraries. I was thinking of this this morning. When I first set out for a living I still went to libraries. I figured this was because I had just about left childhood and was still used to going to libraries. Now, over 40 years later, the connection to childhood is fairly distant, and so were my library habits. So, maybe it's true, as we get older we get more like children.My latest visit was tonight when I looked into a book of photographs, 'The New York School: Photographs, 1936-1963', compiled by Jane Livingston. My interest in the book started when I attended a photograph exhibit of one of the photographers in the book. The book is out-of-print, but still available as new, at a hefty price, or somewhat more reasonably priced as used.
It's a heavyweight, door stopper coffee table book, with black and white prints from perhaps 20 photographers, all whose works can be connected to New York subjects: Richard Avedon, Weegee, Diane Arbus, David Vestal, Walker Evans, Helen Levitt, and others.
I wanted to look at the book before recommending it to members of my family that even a USED edition would be appreciated for the holidays. They need hints. Printed from a printer. Happily, the book is worth lobbying for. And, I think I'm worth it.
I couldn't check the book out, but I did manage to spend some time with it. And, if my family members resist, I can always go back to the library.
Many of the images were familiar. I saw Richard Avedon's print of W.H. Auden walking along Second Avenue in a snowstorm. I remember seeing the image in The New Yorker with a strangely caustic caption that it was of, 'The Fag of St Mark's Place.' Auden lived near St Mark's Place in the 60s, before moving back to England. It's a great portrait, even if you don't know who it is. Ms. Livingston's book has no captions, and a far nicer credit in the back telling you it's Auden, near St. Mark's Place.
Auden might have been going to that great Ottendorfer library branch on Second Avenue, just below St. Mark's Place. I used to. Never saw him, however.
But more striking was a photo I hadn't seen. It too was by Avedon, and showed a well-dressed full-figured matronly woman of an age certain to be in her 50s, who is holding up a newspaper with both hands about chest high. She has a hat or headpiece on of some kind. She has several strands of pearls around her neck, and a stylish tote bag is dangling from her left arm. There is no sign of a purse. She is standing on a sidewalk in Times Square, and other passersby are near, but not in focus. She and the newspaper are the subject.
It's a black and white photo, but you guess she's wearing mostly black anyway. The headline is large. Very large. Several inches high, on two lines. Larger than any headline I've ever seen since:
PRESIDENT
SHOT DEAD
The date is November 22, 1963, and the newspaper is The New York World Telegram and The Sun.
President Kennedy has been assassinated. And by December, when the New York newspaper strike started, the New York World Telegram would also be dead after the 114 day strike.
No comments:
Post a Comment