I nearly didn’t make it to the Addison Gallery of American Art on the lovely campus of the Phillips Academy in Andover, MA. As I was passing the outskirts of Boston, locking in bumper to bumper traffic with the temperature well into the nineties, all of a sudden a warning bell coming from my dashboard started ringing at ear piercing levels. That and a large warning light was flashing in front of me with a message that the oil pressure was low and the engine had been shut down.

#$%^&*%$^?!

Funny thing, although not at the moment, was that my car was still moving forward, same as everyone else locked in the scrum. Ok, no need to panic, that is not until the same light show and high decibel alert repeated itself two minutes later!  Better try to get over to the shoulder on the right side of the expressway. Only problem was I was in the middle of about four or five lanes, made even worse because cars were also merging on from a long access lane. I soon remembered why I hate driving around Boston … all those friendly and non-aggressive drivers!  After what seemed forever I finally was able get over to the shoulder and pull out the manual for my 2010 VW GTI.  Yeh, at fourteen years old and closing in on 180,000 miles I know it’s getting a little long in the tooth, but with a six speed manual transmission and lots of cargo space, it’s been a great road warrior and a friend. And besides, all the teenagers think I’m still cool when they see it!

After reading the manual and popping the hood to check the oil, all appeared to be as it should. I called my mechanic from my cell and he said as long as the oil level showing on the dipstick seemed to be ok than probably all was well. Yet, the prudent thing would have been to get off the road and find someone to take a look, but that’s not me. So I let things sit for a few minutes, then rejoined the traffic jam. Well, all’s well the end’s well and in about an hour I pulled up in front of the museum!  Spoiler alert … I did make it home without further incident and a couple of days later took my old buddy in for a scheduled oil change. Turns out it was down a half a quart. I hope it’s not a sign!

I had been to the Addison once before. It was as beautiful as I remembered it, and a must see if you are in the Boston area. I also had seen Frank’s work before, including a complete exhibit of The Americans. I also own a copy of his seminal book, so I was prepared for what I would be seeing … or so I thought.  I’d heard of Webb before, but to be honest, I wasn’t really familiar with his work. But viewing the two men’s work together made the Robert Frank and Todd Webb: Across America, 1955 show an unexpected surprise and a true revelation!

Both men traveled across America in 1955 for US survey projects made possible by Guggenheim fellowships, yet neither had any knowledge about the other’s work!  Webb did it by bike, boat and by foot, making over ten thousand photographs. Strangely his work was never published. Frank made a number of road trips, producing almost twenty eight thousand images, of which eighty three were selected for publication in what became The Americans.

The four gallery rooms contained one great picture after picture depicting people carrying on their daily lives, along with the buildings in which they lived, worked and socialized in. There were also roadside signage and other attractions and oddities seen along the way. While there were differences in their work, both photographers were attempting to refute the myth of 1950s America and show the inequalities that existed. Frank may have taken the ultimate photographic road trip across America just before everything changed forever with the Sixties. And perhaps Frank’s unvarnished view of America and American life may have been as significant as rock and roll, the counter culture and the rest of the fallout from the Viet Nam War in changing the way we looked at ourselves. Webb’s work, shows that what Frank captured was no fluke.

Seen together, Frank’s work seems to have more of an edge and a greater intensity to it. Webb’s work showing more humanity.  Seen interspersed together they capture a true sense of the time. In fact. you might think all the pictures were made by the same person who happened to occasionally change things up just a bit for a slight adjustment in point of view.

Almost all of the black and white photographs seemed to be about 11×14 in size, with a few being larger. Frank’s images were all silver gelatin prints. Webb’s were ink jet prints, made in 2023. Perhaps no original prints exist and for a show large digital printing makes things more convenient. I have no idea. Again, as was the case with the Fran Orlando show, the reproductions were first class. Yet another disappointment, but far outweighed by the opportunity to see Webb’s great work!

What a show! Needless to say I bought the book that accompanied it!  Unfortunately Robert Frank and Todd Webb: Across America, 1955 only runs to July 31^st at the Addison, so if you live nearby or are in the area I recommend getting there ASAP! I’m not sure what the show’s next stop is, but I see it will be about an hour’s drive from Doylestown at the Brandywine Museum of Art from February 9th – to May 4^th, 2025.

I’ll probably see it again!

Stay well,

Michael

One of Monalog’s members told me about an exhibit I should see and when he makes a strong recommendation I pay attention. I was able to visit the Roosevelt Project: Photographs by Fran Orlando exhibit on the last day before it closed at Bucks County Community College’s Hicks Art Center Gallery. Monalog had one of its first shows there and it’s a beautiful gallery.

During 1979-1980, Orlando photographed residents of the small town of Roosevelt, New Jersey. The town sprung to life in the 1930s as a New Deal project to relocate Jewish garment workers from New York City to the country. It ultimately failed as a social experiment but became a mecca for artists, writers and musicians.

The images Orlando made are sensitive and well seen. All were black and white and they were tastefully sized. Still, I felt letdown.

Originally the pictures were produced as silver gelatin prints and I am quite certain, they were wonderful. But sometime after that Orlando left the darkroom behind and forty five plus years later she felt they were part of the past. She felt times had changed as had technology, and she could not go back. So the original negatives were scanned and printed digitally.

I respect Orlando’s decision as an artist … it just makes me a bit sad. That having been said, I have to say that these are the finest digital prints I have seen, but that’s not really the point. Hot on the heels of my Russell Lee exhibit experience this was yet another disappointment. Not the magnitude concerning Lee, but a disappointment nevertheless. Why? Well, as good as the digital prints looked, they were not in my judgment what they could have and should been … that is what they originally were envisioned to be. Yes, technology has moved on and certainly it is easier to make a digital print than a silver gelatin one in the darkroom, but creating great art is not about easy … is it?

Just my point of view, and nothing I’ve said should take anything away from Orlando’s wonderful work … I just wish it had been presented otherwise.

Stay well,

Michael

A few weeks ago I drove to Washington, DC to see the exhibit Power & Light: Russell Lee Coal Survey at the National Archives Museum just before it closed. I left early enough that morning to beat the Philadelphia rush hour traffic, but had to endure the real mess that begins as you approach Baltimore. Nevertheless I got to my destination with a bit of time to spare so I could stay on schedule and beat the afternoon rush hour going home.

Russell Lee is best known for his Farm Security Administration work during the Great Depression, but this exhibit focused on images he made in 1946, just following the conclusion of a national coal strike.  The photographs were made primarily in Kentucky and West Virginia.  Along with pictures of the miners at work, what really stood out were those of miners and their families, at home, in church and at play.  From what I could tell looking at a picture of him accompanying the exhibit, they were made with a hand held 4×5 Crown Graphic, but I know he used Leica’s for his FSA work.

Here’s the thing, the pictures were great, but unfortunately they were displayed as overly large unframed digitally produced facsimiles. One was even cut out and wrapped around the top of a doorway.  $#%^&*! I’m sure many found this to their liking, but to me it diminished the importance of his work and the sensitivity of his vision. In short, the pictures, and Russell Lee deserved better … much better!  I think a far different approach … silver gelatin prints of sensible size would have yielded a far better result!

After the frustration of the Lee show I decided to take a flyer and swing by a camera shop a few minutes’ drive from the Archives.  Photo Pro was a go to for me when I lived in the area and they always had great stuff to tempt me. As I crossed Pennsylvania Avenue I just had a feeling there would be something special with my name on it!

The last time I was there, maybe ten years ago, I snagged a great Leica lens I thought I’d never be able to get, and this time there was plenty of wonderful goodies in the glass display cases.  After fondling a Leica M4 and Mamiya RB67 I noticed something you don’t see very often … an absolutely cherry Zone VI modified Pentax one degree digital spot meter!!!!  Yes, yes, yes!!! I already own two of them, but I had been thinking about getting another one to keep in a third camera bag … and there it was!!!  It even came with a wonderful and useful Zone VI leather holster, and the original box, complete with modification paperwork signed by Richard Ritter, who still calibrates the meters!!!

Not surprisingly, I had no choice, and a few minutes later I was all smiles as I began my drive home with a Photo Pro bag on the passenger seat.  What started with somewhat of a disappointment ended with a nice little surprise. The next day I gave Richard a call and arranged for him to recalibrate the new meter as well as my others. Good idea, since I couldn’t remember the last time I had them checked. A few days later off they all went. Hopefully they’ll be back in my camera bags this week. 

All’s well that ends well!

Stay well,

Michael

On one of my walks this week I started to think … Hey, there were a lot of Leica’s at the Mermaid Parade, and they stood out from the masses of black plastic digitalia surrounding me, mostly all equipped with bazooka sized lenses. Trouble was that every time I saw one hanging around someone’s neck it made me feel good, and every time I said hello, smiled or gave an acknowledging nod to a fellow traveler I got bupkis!

That’s right.  Every time I attempted to display my comradery I got the cold shoulder! What the $%#%^&* Could it be because around my neck there hung such a camera?

It didn’t bother me the first time or two, but after being blown off four or five times I began to wonder what was going on here. Was it a competitive thing between aging white men … M2 and M3 vs M6 or MP or MA? And then there was the guy with a Rollei. Forget it … he didn’t even make eye contact!

Am I reading too much into this or was there something sinister at play here? And what does this portend for our democracy and world peace?  After way too much thinking about this I think I came to the answer … it was my old tiny chrome lenses with equally ancient metal shades attached to them. They weren’t the overly large modern black lenses with the name Sumilux and/or the letters ASPH or APO in bright white adorning their barrels.

And what if I had an even older Leica IIIG, or God forbid a IIIF or IIIC with some kind of collapsable lens?  Perhaps they might have thought of me as quaint … but probably not.

So where’s this little diatribe going anyway? Is this a case of White geezers with excess disposable income looking down at mere mortals possessing ancient tools? Little do they know how stupendous the 50mm Rigid Summicron and diminutive 35mm f/2.8 Summaron are. Bozos! These oldies but goodies are my favorite M lenses.  And yes, I’ve owned all the modern glass in these focal lengths, except the 50mm Noctilux and Summicron ASPH that are so ridiculously expensive and/or are designed for unique applications (little if no light) that only the wealthy or those resigned to eating dogfood can afford them. The older lenses are what Cartier Bresson, Frank, Eisenstaedt, Smith et al. used. So come on! Enough said!

I sincerely hope those fellow Leica users made some wonderful pictures … if they were able to get beyond the awe of what they were fondling.

Just remember, you can make a great picture with whatever you have; it’s the picture that matters after all, isn’t it?

Ok … rant completed. Actually, that was a lot of fun and I feel a lot better now!

Stay well,

Michael

Speaking of curiosity (see last week’s entry), I had been trying to get to the annual Coney Island Mermaid Parade for the last five years or so, but something always seemed to get in the way. This year I was determined to get there no matter what and last Saturday I did!

The Mermaid Parade is billed as the nation’s largest art parade and I have no reason to doubt that. There were a ton of participants and the parade route was packed! It turned out to be everything I had hoped for! Following my recent success on Memorial Day I got up bright and early so I could drive to Hamilton station, take the NJ transit train to Penn Station and then walk to the 34^th Street/Herald Square Station to hop on the subway to Coney Island. The gameplan was to get there by 10am … long before the parade started at 1pm. Considering I’d never done this before things worked out quite nicely.

By the time I walked about ten or fifteen minutes to where the staging area was, marchers and floats were starting to arrive and the police had just about finished placing metal barriers along both sides of Surf Avenue to keep the crowds a safe distance from the action.  This gave me more than enough time to meet some very interesting people, schmooze and even make some pictures before things got totally crazy. And while I got kicked out of the staging area several times because I didn’t have press credentials I was happy with the pictures I made. I knew I didn’t get everything, but I felt more than satisfied.

But there was one thing that was really annoying. I told a particularly obnoxious person that the rule in photography when being out there is not to step in front of someone else who is trying to make a picture. And the worst thing is when someone does that so they can take YOUR picture %%#$^&*??  The press photographer next to me agreed and said so! Ok, I get it; I was in New York, but come on!  Anyway, while that happened several times I still had a blast at the Mermaid Parade and maybe even made some serious keepers!

By the time I had gone through two rolls of Tri-X using my Leica M2 and M3 the parade was just about to start and I felt I got everything I needed.  I walked back down Surf Avenue alongside those marching in the parade, passed Nathan’s, then reached Stillwell Avenue and turned into the subway station. As I left the 34^th Street/Herald Square Station to walk back to Penn Station it began to rain. A beautiful and cooling sun shower that made me forget about the approaching gathering storm we could be soon facing. While I hung out for three hours during the worst heat in the East this year, it was well worth the sweat, and this was a wonderful way to end what was truly a great day in New York!

This weekend, on National Camera Day I developed my negatives, along with eight other rolls that were beginning to form a line on my enlarging bench. I can’t wait to see the proof sheets!

Stay well,

Michael

Are you curious? I am, and I think that’s a good thing. It makes me want to photograph events I think might be interesting.  While I don’t know if they will be a bust, usually there are some pleasant surprises, even if most of them are snooze city. Why? Because I’m curious and open to whatever comes along … and I look a lot.

Same thing goes with photographing when I’m just out and about. I think too many people go out looking for things in particular and that’s the problem. If they don’t find any of those things then no pictures and the outing is a bust. I take the opposite approach when on a walkabout .. I have no plans at all!  I’m just looking for things I find interesting. Again, this can lead to some pleasant surprises. Why? Same reason as above. Because I’m curious and open to whatever comes along … and I look a lot.

It turns out for me curiosity is really a good thing for everything I do. Unlike most people, I’ve never had a life plan. Nope. I’ve gone where things have taken me, careerwise and otherwise, and curiosity was an important contributor to all of it. I feel I’ve lived a very entertaining and charmed life and wouldn’t change a thing! And while I am not financially wealthy, I am in so many other ways that matter much more to me.

Curiosity … think of it as a powerful antidote to boredom and the mundane, and an essential contributor to fulfillment and happiness … in photography … and life.

Stay well,

Michael

I’m very excited.  Why? Because I have an action packed schedule for the next several months to visit some wonderful photography and painting exhibits! Here’s what’s on deck right now: (1) Russell Lee, National Archive, Washington, DC; (2) Paul McCartney (yes, that’s right!), Brooklyn Museum of Art; (3) Vivian Maier plus Bruce Gilden, Fotografiska Gallery, New York; (4) Robert Frank and Todd Webb, plus A Long Arc: Photography and the American South Since 1845, Addison Gallery of American Art, Andover, MA; and (5) Mary Cassatt at Work (the great American Impressionist painter), plus Transformations: American Photographs from the 1970s, and In the Right Place: Photographs by Barbara Crane, Melissa Shook, and Carol Taback, Philadelphia Museum of Art.

Wow!

So why so many exhibits? You know I’ve discussed this before, but it’s essential to visit museums and galleries to see photography and paintings too.  You will be inspired by the works of the masters and may learn a thing or two. When it comes to photography at galleries, you might discover you’re as good or better than much of what’s being shown. This is important and should inspire you to press on! And why look at paintings? Also as previously discussed, you can learn a lot about composition and light, and use this new insight to develop new photographic ideas and visioin.

I also plan on making a lot of pictures this summer and catch up on my growing backlog of negatives to develop. And if the stars have aligned properly, maybe there will be some keepers to print!

If you live in the Northeast or plan to be nearby check out these wonderful opportunities. My guess is you won’t be disappointed.

Stay well,

Michael

As previously reported, I attended this year’s Doylestown Memorial Day Parade and remembrance ceremony per usual. It’s always a wonderful experience and sometimes I get a keeper or two. But this year I took a different approach. Instead of arriving at my normal spot at the crowded intersection in the middle of town at the appointed time, I decided to head to the staging area an hour early. This way I could hang out and maybe get a different take on things.

Turns out to have been a very good decision. Not only did I get what I think will a number of keepers, but I had a lot of fun talking to the participants. This gave me an entirely new perspective on the event and those who take part in it. And once the parade started, I was standin at the beginning of the route at a better position to make pictures.

So what’s the point?

I’m trying to think about new perspectives and better ways to make pictures, especially concerning an event like a parade. This is especially useful when you photograph the same event on a regular basis like I often do. It’s also more entertaining!  I gain a better understanding of the event and get to chat with some very interesting people.

So yah, I’m spending a lot more time at Doylestown Memorial Day Parades, Asbury Park Zombie Walks and Philly Naked Bike Rides, but it’s time well spent. Try it, but one thing … make sure you have enough film!

Stay well,

Michael