#evaZeisel #ceramicist #designer
The train has always been a place to allow my mind to blend into the rhythms of the clouds. I imagined the sensory deprivation tanks à la the film Altered States.
I eagerly floated my mind between happiness and madness.
It is mostly a great prelude to what I might discover upon meeting my subjects. The pre-visualization is like pre-op before surgery... the mind goes, the body goes.
One afternoon I tested my relaxed discipline on a train to see Eva Zeisel. The ceramic designer was a prized moment for me.
There was a time when just about everyday was a day to make a portrait. I have not decided if those days were made for me to collect memories or make memories. I gladly stepped across the streets of Manhattan. I crisscrossed the globe. I weaved through and around the lives of cultural icons who impacted our lives, my life.
Eva was ninety something, I was forty something. When I arrived at her home/studio, It was if I was a soldier returning from war. Her eyes greeted me as if I was there to rescue her from self-imposed exile. Her aged frame lit up an entire universe. I was aglow. We quickly became acquainted like two lost old souls needing what the other had to share. I knew she would open her past life for me. I knew her story would become our story.
I merely had a camera, Eva had these beautiful ceramic works that looked like dancing heirloom egg shells whispering dreams in the wind. There was grace and beauty that my privileged life has not forsaken. I touched her fragile pieces to try and understand the fragility of her time spent in Russian concentration camps and the passionate urgency of a woman as she stepped towards independence. I would never know the extent of Eva’s nightmares. Her sufferings and eventual freedom became essential to Arthur Koestler’s Darkness at Noon. Eva and Arthur were romantic partners...Oh to be a fly on the wall.
Eva Zeisel
Her passionate life, and ghostly sufferings raced my heart. Her ceramics were a window into her past and a mirror into my present. I have always wrapped my mind around these unanticipated pleasures my memories held.
At days end I found the return ticket to my city. I knew I would never contribute to the world as Eva did. The nearly two hour ride home allowed me to decompress. With a nip from my flask I embraced the words and passions that this gentle jewel shared.
#LouiseNevelson #sculptor #artist #YO_YOMA #GABRIELSOBOE #ENNIOMORRICONE
Louise Nevelson in pictures looked like she was spreading havoc around small villages. She was part fanatic preacher in “Night of the Hunter” and part everything “Patricia Highsmith”. She was the darkness that reigned over children’s nightmares. I imagined her studio to be like a clutch of witches’ cauldrons sending billowing potions into the unknown.
Nevelson had been photographed by all of the great photographers. What was I to make of her madness. I was afraid. And then... I stepped into her Soho, New York studio. An assistant helped me with my bags. I waited in the corner of her studio. Her massive gentle sculptures stared down at me. I waited.
I heard her voice come through the alcoves. Her powers were present. I knew I had heard a similar sound somewhere before. Yes! I exclaimed. Yo-Yo Ma.(Yo-Yo who I photographed not too long ago, had performed Ennio Morricone’s Gabriel’s Oboe) Nevelson’s purr and Yo-Yo’s cello cosmically seemed to collide into one seductive enchantment.
I think Louise saw me as someone to take care of. Her intimidating warmth shattered my impressions. She coddled me. With her powerful embrace, she sat me down. She placed her black cashmere cloak around her shoulders and demanded to hear anything and everything about the artist portraits I had made to date.
I had made hundreds of portraits by this time. I certainly mingled among all styles, all factions of contemporary art history.
Her Yo-Yo Ma reached out and spoke to me. “Richard my dear, you are going about this the wrong way. You are making beautiful pictures, but of who?” Artists I said.
She said, but what is the connection. I said I am making pictures of artists from all different styles and periods. She said you need to become more intimate with your subjects. She looked at my face and said, not to worry you are not my type and even for me too young.
She asked if I play poker. I said no. She said, ok this is what you need to do.
I am going to introduce you to some fellow poker players. If you want to know me you need to know my world.
#louiseNevelson #PatriciaHighsmith #Nightofthehunter #jasperjohns #Mercecunningham #johnCage #RobertRauschenberg #poker ART
I sat by her side drinking a beer. She dialed Jasper Johns, Robert Rauschenberg, John Cage/Merce Cunningham and maybe five more. She looked at me when she got off the phone. She said, you know what I am trying to tell you? I said, I think so. She said, well get on home and send me some pictures from your sessions.
I said, but what about us. She said, I don’t have anymore time. She looked at my eyes and whispered, make it quick and make it good.
It was the only time that I felt I was out of my element. When I was finished she gave me her hand and said thank you. I said for what? She said for making a photograph that I know I will love.
#LouiseNevelson