Andrew Geller in his upstate studio
Le Mans was a race track I have navigated dozens of times. I remember throttling the accelerator over 250 km down the Mulsanne Straight. I sped nearly four miles straining the Soleus muscle atop the treadle. I knew the Indianapolis Straight turning into the Porsche Curve like the back of my hand. Turning nuances into leverage is what racing is all about.
I cannot recall a single sound amidst the 13,605 kms. I was grinning with a bit of smugness. I was winning. My tires were holding to my teams’ plan. Gas was calculated.
I knew I was in the lead. Winning LeMans is happening today.
Suddenly a honk and pumping brake lights woke me from my dream. I had passed the Palisades Interstate and was flying on I-87 north. Thoroughly shaking my head. Eyes laughing. My mental misdirection happens daily. The misdirections maintain a balance in an unbalanced life.
Nearly four hours from my Manhattan home, I arrived at the upstate home of the fabulously grounded eccentric architect Andrew Geller. The commission for me was to be a treasure trove of discoveries. I had not knowingly entered a session photographing a subject with Alzheimer’s.
Geller, was one of those architects that everyone knew, but most could not remember why until you mentioned his Hamptons’ double diamond “Pearlroth House”. It is a shame that more of his life was not recognized. He did live a full life as a design architect. He worked with Saarinen, Loewy, Bunshaft, Noguchi and more. Architects and designers dream of being associated with a similar pedigree. More importantly he left his mark (Z) everywhere he worked. The endgame in life is fulfillment. Everyone wants to feel they left their mark on their world and beyond! It is rare and improbable.
It seems that the whole family was ready for me. I was a bit late, so that was a minor concern. Most importantly they wanted to brief me on Andrew’s health status. Apparently he wasn’t talking to strangers. The family wanted to sit in the drawing studio Geller had set up while I photographed. They thought it might help me? “No No” I said as I ushered them out. I closed the adjoining door. They understood I was in charge of this moment.
I looked over at Andrew and motioned for him to give me a few moments to set up. He wore this fabulous “Cheshire” grin! It was as if we were suddenly mates, in on the same caper.
He whispered while I loaded my camera, “what do you want to talk about”. It seemed that I was in on a secret that everyone knew about, or absolutely nobody knew.
We spent the next several hours talking about A to Z. He recounted a day when he slept on the beach in front of a project. He wanted to will it to fruition. He spoke about working with the famous and the pretending famous. I was in a self induced coma snapping away. So many sparkling moments he shared with me as I adjusted my lights and focusing.
I guess the afternoon had to end when he shared his cameo role in a late night threesome that never quite came to fruition. I guess religion can be a pretty powerful friend when needed.
He made me promise that our exchanges were just that and just between us. As you can see, I am keeping my word. I walked out into the living room. The family almost like a choir asked me how the session went. Andrew followed behind. His daughter asked, “Dad, how did it go?” He smiled.
I paid my respects. I got in my car. The GPS said four hours. It took me eight. Nobody can get lost in reverie like I can.
