A baker • click to embiggenI have pictured hundreds, no, make that thousands of people. I love none more than this guy (there is a 'pictured' girl that I love more, stay tuned) - a nameless baker from an assignment - A Day in the Life of Pittsburgh - for Pittsburgh Magazine. This guy obviously loves his work and, IMO, I captured that love in this picture.

I am posting this picture, at 1:15 AM after drinking 3/4 of a fifth of bourbon and 2 hours on the phone with my best friend, as a testament to true love - I have not left the wife despite our differences over how the bedroom should be remodeled.

Ain't love strange?

Morley's Dog is a Victorian-era statue that was washed away in the great Johnstown flood of 1889, but was recovered in the flood debris at the stone bridge after the flood and eventually donated to the city. Since then, Morley's Dog has become a beloved Johnstown icon.

He did not depict a real dog or hero who rescued a child from the flood, although there are stories of such a dog. In the book "The Fairytale of the Morley Dog", the dog is claimed to be seen saving children from the flood waters. Some now take this to be fact.

Old electric fan • click to embiggen
Pittsburgh's strip district • click to embiggen
Flowers at Woods Hole • click to embiggenAs has been reported elsewhere, Polaroid has given up the ghost, film-wise. I had previously mentioned the end of the line for SX-70 (Time Zero) film, but this is the end of the line for all film-related photography products - including all of their professional sheet films. What a pity.

In my commercial studio heyday, I used Polaroid professional sheet films like it was going out of style. Dollar-wise, I spent way more on Polaroid film than I did on Kodak film. Polaroid was the only testing / pre-shoot proofing method around. I was fully invested in Polaroid holders and backs for every format I had - 35mm, 120, 4×5, and 8×10. I'll wager that you never knew there was a Polaroid back for Nikon 35mm slrs.

While I was never a hardcore BW guy, one of the best 4×5 bw sheet films on the planet was Polaroid Type 55. Not only did you get the instant print, but you also got an instant negative as well. Sure, the negative needed be treated in a clearing agent and washed, but the advantages of dust-free film packets was wonderful. If you worked in the field, you just shot as much as you wanted and saved the instant processing for later.

And the negative? Polaroid Type 55 negatives are the most buttery smooth (tone-wise), sharp and grain-less, extended dynamic range bw film that I ever used. The resultant prints were simply gorgeous. It's really a shame that the experience of using this film is about to disappear, most likely forever (unless someone buys the manufacturing rights).

Me, I'm grateful as hell that another firm is continuing the manufacture of Polaroid film for the SX-70 and Spectra class cameras, even though the film for the SX-70 is not Time Zero film - the only Polaroid film that let you really play around with the emulsion - it stayed squishy malleable for hours.

I wonder how soon the day will come for the end of the line of all photographic film?

For those of you out there who are contemplating leaving their day job for a full time career in photography, might I suggest the rather eclectic and little practiced speciality field of Photo with the Parrot.

Here's what i know about it - one day in the early 80s, the X, the kids, and I were in NYC visiting a friend. We all went to Little Italy during the St. Anthony (of Giovinazzo) festival. The place was mobbed but we were able to get into the restaurant our friend wanted us to experience. It was a decidedly relaxed establishment replete with a rather large all-black clad mama mia who roamed the premise singing (accompanied by a very handsome and swarthy young guitarist).

The crowd were well into their cups and much revelry was in evidence. In short, a good time was being had by all when, in the front door, came the gentleman, his parrot, and his Polaroid cameras. Even with all the din, it only took one pronouncement of "Get yer photo with the parrot." to set off a near frenzy of eager patrons.

At $3.00 a pop, he was raking it in as fast as his SX-70s could spit 'em out. He seemed to have an endless supply of Time-Zero film and, more importantly, the parrot seemed to be on some kind of parrot-downers. It was remarkably calm in the clamor and high-jinks that surrounded it. I kept waiting for it to rip off some inebriated patron's ear, but it just went calmly about its business with a remarkable amount of patience and aplomb.

While everyone else was having their picture taken with the parrot, I offered the photographer double his regular fee if I could take his picture with the parrot (and my kids). He, of course, obliged.

After his stint in the restaurant, he went out into the street where he was again mobbed by eager patrons. As best as I could tell, this guy was raking in at least $100 an hour. Not bad at all in 1980 dollars.

Also, as best as I can tell, here's the formula for success - several Polaroid cameras, lots of Polaroid film, locations with large gatherings preferably with readily available liquor and beer, a well-adjusted parrot (or maybe 2 - keep one in relief), and lots of patience with intoxicated patrons.

Oh yeah, and don't forget the hat and sweatshirt.

Looking down from near the top of the CN Tower, Toronto CA

Hey all, I'm off to Pittsburgh, PA for a press check. I'll be checking in and maybe posting. In any event, the Wildness Close to Home Gallery is off to fine start. Keep it up.

Screwing around on the beach • click to embiggenOne of the 'things' inherent in the Polaroid medium is the propensity to just have fun. The instant feedback one gets from viewing a print, as opposed to chimping, is very intoxicating, addictive and, if you give in to the urge, expensive.

I can state, without reservation, that Polaroiding is by far the most fun I've ever had with a camera. The Polaroid experience really promotes spontaneity and, at times, rather frivolous behavior, photography-wise. For me, it is also the one photo format that I use more than any other to photograph people.

I don't know exactly why this is, but I do know that people tend to relate to a Polaroid camera in way that is different than the way they react when you point a slr-type camera at them and I tend to act and think in a different manner as well.

Photographers talk about how their picture taking MO is different when they use a view camera as opposed to a small format camera. That's never been the case for me. I switch between those formats and my vision and style come through unchanged. It's only with the Polaroid(s) that I become a changed man.

Anyone else out there with a similar experience?

Boxing gloves • click to embiggen2 variations for an assignment to create an illustration for a magazine article titled Vanishing Gyms. The assignment was for one picture but they ended up using both. The manipulated Polaroid was used as the feature picture and the 'straight' Polaroid was used on a sidebar.

I literally have 100s of Polaroids in a couple boxes that I must do something about. Fortunately, they are virtually indestructible.

The boy when he was a boy

In addition to the boy's show, I visited a number of other shows - Ed Burtynsky's Quarries, Prabuddha Dasgupta's Longing, Alison Carey's Organic Remains of Former World, and few others. I'll be writing about all them shortly.

I felt privileged to see all of them - in each case, I felt as though the artist had invited me into their private world to share a few secrets. This was especially true of Longing. My other son, Jason, and I were alone in the gallery and I had sought out the owner/gallery director to ask a few questions. After just one question, she asked me, "Why not ask the photographer? I'll go get him." We had a delightful conversation about which I will write later on.

The biggest and best 'priviledge' of the day was none of the above. It came when I stumbled upon the exhibit The Polaroids by Andre Kertesz. It's no secret that I really love the Polaroid medium, so to wander through an exhibit of Polaroids made by one of the seminal figures in the history of photography was a pure delight.

As is my wont, I browsed the exhibit before seeking out the exhibition intro. This is my standard MO - look at the images first to get a first impression and then learn more about the artist's intent and read what others might have to say about it. Again, it's no secret that I think pictures without words - not captions, but artist statements, etc. - are only part of the game and The Polaroids exhibit is a case in point.

The pictures, in and of themselves, were visually interesting and intriguing - especially so because of recurring pieces of glass forms including one in particular. The pictures were very warm, intimate and primarily on a smallish scale. All of this created a feeling of a glimpse into a private/personal 'intimacy'. Very, very nice.

What I didn't know, and could not know, from just viewing the pictures was that 'following the loss of his wife Elizabeth to lung cancer in 1977, and nearing the end of his own life, Kertész was admittedly a broken man.

Turning to a relatively new technology, the Polaroid SX-70, Kertész worked through his overwhelming grief, obsessively shooting the bust alone and placing it among other artifacts he and Elizabeth had collected together over the years. Taken from within his apartment, he photographed many of these still-lifes by placing personal objects against cityscape backgrounds, which were often reflected and modulated by glass surfaces ... ' - from the exhibit press release

It should go without saying that, after reading the press release, the pictures took on a whole expanded meaning. They were no longer 'just' visually interesting and intriguing pictures. For me, knowing what I now knew, the pictures became (as the press release also stated) '... powerful metaphorical and literal symbols of life, love, loss, death and mortality.'

IMO, pictures without words are 'just' pictures. They may be visually pleasing and a delight to the eye and even, to certain extent, the mind and the soul but knowing, at the very least, intent of the maker can enrich the pictures to an incredible degree.

FYI - a couple points of interest. The SX 70 camera was a gift to Kertesz from Graham Nash of the famed Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young and who, in addition to being a musician, is also a photographer and collector.

The Polaroids themselves were for sale. They were from the estate of Kertesz. What I found interesting about this is that, of course, the Polaroids were truly limited editions of 1. No negatives. No reprints. Nada. 1 and only 1. When they're gone (sold), they're gone. That's why I purchased the book. You should too. PS The book costs under $30. 1 original Polaroid costs $9,000. Take your pick.

I was also immediately struck by the coincidence that another seminal figure in the history of photography, Walker Evans, also received as a gift (from a dentist who was doing dental work for Evans in exchange for prints), a Polaroid SX 70 - a camera which he also used for a few years at the end of his life to create a significant body of work which, like Kertesz, was also his last.