The Life of Architecture: Georgia O’Keefe, Renzo Piano, Rem Koolhaas and Kengo Kuma

The Life of Architecture: Georgia O’Keefe, Renzo Piano, Rem Koolhaas and Kengo Kuma

Georgia O’Keefe’s whispering fragility could shake the red clay off the New Mexican Jemez mountains. Her indomitable spirit, strength and courage was from another galaxy. So when I heard her say: “I tried to paint what I saw. I thought someone could tell me how to paint landscape. But I never found that person. I had to just settle down and try. I thought someone could tell me how, but, I found nobody could. They could tell you how they paint their landscape, but they couldn’t tell me to paint mine. The cliffs over there, you look at it and it is almost painted for you, you think, until you try.” https://www.instagram.com/reel/CqjkONxDsqT/?igshid=MDJmNzVkMjY=

I found a truth for my own life’s work.

I am a self taught photographer. I have never understood what I do. I have merely understood why I do it. My mind and body have traveled across continents to photograph architecture. It seems like a simple gesture, a simple act to make the photograph at hand, “…until you try”.

When I make photographs I try not to be swayed by outside influences. I try. I would prefer to be thrown into the fire, and surprise myself with what may be. How thoroughly exhilarating that sounds.

It was like that afternoon I photographed Alfred Stieglitz’s Lake George home: The summer air ruled. The rural vacancy of a breathing life prevailed. I stood alone with a single frame. (If you allow for a suspension of disbelief) I imagined hearing the lovers Ms. Georgia O’Keefe and Mr. Alfred Stieglitz whisper, “you have to tangle with two hundred and fifty years of photography”. I had to make it mine!

Episodes

Renzo Piano’s Hermes in Tokyo: The building is an untamed elegant multi faceted colossus. The crafted gem that became Hermes, is also a gift from the maestro Renzo Piano.

Every day and night for one week I returned to the Hermes building. I had to be like a gemologist to recognize all of the crafted facets. My mind imagined so many ways to compose the photograph. I needed to pretend the building is like a giant Rubik’s cube. I twisted and turned my camera until it realized the appropriate pose that needed to be shot. I still was not satisfied with my Piano’s Hermes.

I would leave the building to focus on other things.

I had the luxury and the good fortune to photograph the portraits and architecture of SANAA, Ito, Isozaki, Ban and Ando. Around the city I would travel daily for these and other visual experiences. Certainly I cannot downplay the rewards of conversing with such unique and towering architectural giants. It was the most informal graduate course on architecture I had experienced: One week of formidable exchanges.

Everyday I was switching train lines or hopping into taxis. Everyday I was trying to solve the Piano’ Hermes riddle. On my last day in Tokyo I saw an incredible impressionable photography exhibition of Samurai in the courts of England and France. It led me to come to terms on a number of photography issues. Later that morning I stopped thinking about photography’s history and my obligation to the centuries of the form/art. I raced over to the Ginza.

I realized my photography was not meant to be anything less than a share of a total experience.

I made my morning picture. I made my evening picture. “Gotcha”

I have heard that Rem Koolhaas is a great teacher. In architecture I think that may be one of the great compliments.

I arrived in Rotterdam to shoot Rem’s portrait and one of his buildings for my book; “Portraits of the New Architecture”. It was an odd day to say the least. A dozen misunderstandings regarding the portrait session. Putting aside the misunderstanding, Rem was a prince. He gave me all of the time I needed: I shot the image in about thirty minutes. He was gracious to the end: thanking me for flying all the way from New York. Everyone was happy. He also found the humor in the fact that I was staying in the Hotel New York, in Rotterdam.

I was a bit “under the gun”. Shooting a portrait and a building in one day taxed my brain quite a bit.

But under the gun, in the line of fire or any phrase that lives up to, do what you gotta do, is a winner for me.

It is always the moment that you see your appointed building for the first time that makes your hair on your arms stand at attention. I was alone on the local trolley. My trolley was slowing for a stop across the road. It allowed me to scope out my prey as I crossed the street. It wasn’t quite like the Pequod’s Captain Ahab calling out, “…Moby Dick is mine!” There the was the Kunsthal building! This is years before his De Rotterdam (that I have also photographed.)

I am not a critic. I cannot allow my camera to make a critique. I just had to make the image mine.

I had asked Rem Koolhaas for any thoughts about what was necessary to look for. He simply gave me the answer I was looking for; You are the photographer, it is your photograph.

With the April sun allowing me for just a few more hours to make something happen. I swiftly danced from north to south, west to east side of the building. I ran inside stepping on every square foot of a Koolhaas. It was a playground for my photography that reaped rewards every step of the way

Kengo Kuma gave me a great assignment.

In a past blog I have mentioned shooting for Kengo Kuma in Yusuhara, Japan.

My initial commission was for a few buildings in Tokyo. He added an additional trip to Yusuhara.

Yusuhara Is almost like a forgotten world. Yet it is a place that one can entertain their Zen and just come away with a complete reorientation of priorities and purpose.

The commission was to photograph maybe six structures: Hotel, Spa, Library, House of Prayer, a bridge and…

I attempted discover new ways of shooting Kuma’s. The bridge disrupted my photographic agenda the most. It is such an easy thing to photograph. But I mostly felt hypnotized by its beauty every time I lifted my camera to snap.There was that romantic zen that had me dreaming of narratives. The narratives were adventurous novellas taking place in worlds I had never known. Yet every time I looked up at the bridge fantastic visions would enliven my mind.

I remember riding the bus through the lush countryside from Yusuhara to Osaka. The embracing verdant forests allowed me to travel again and again across the fantasy bridge of stories.