art – Page 21 – Lorin Duckman Today

Temple Anshei Shalom – Lifelong Learning

I delivered a lecture on Preserving Memories – Jews and Photography at Anshei Shalom’s Lifelong learning program. We talked about the origins of the craft, some of the practicioners of the art and capability of images to document, inform and entertain. Haven’t been in front of a group in years, especially when not wearing a suit or robes. I was shakey. About 50 attended and seemed engaged. Nice to talk about art instead of sociopaths.

What would photography be without Jews? Vanity Fair wouldn’t be the same without Annie Liebowitz. No Iwo Jima Memorial without Joe Rosenthal. No VJ day without Eisenstadt. Jews gave photography by Richard Avadon, Jay Maisel, Stieglitz, Diane Arbus, Bruce Gilden, Arthur Felig a/k/a Weegee, Joel Meyerwitz, Lisette Modal, Bruce Davidson, Arnold Newman, August Sander, Elliot Erwitt, Mary Ellen Mark and on and on and on. We wouldn’t see a lot of what we see or know what we know were it not for Jewish photographers.

Where did our camera sight come from? God gave us light and dark so we could see. God called it day and night. Photographers call it contrast. God created us in God’s image, telling us to create, make images we can see, which we can look at (not worship) giving people vision to make the world a better place. Jewish photography is genetic, hot-wired from God, a tool for the mission to do good deeds and leave the world better than what we found when we got here.

Powerball Dreams Quashed

I almost didn’t want to win. Much too much money. With money comes responsibility and a loss of privacy. What would I have done with it? To whom would I have given it? We will never know.

David Bowie, Dead at 69

So, David Bowie got the message. “Major Tom’s” circuit board frizzed. Iggy Stardust will no longer be with us and the world will be a lesser place. I am 68. Were I to die tomorrow, the world would not feel diminished a bit. Luckily, I can look at his picture and listen to his songs. Visit You Tube today and “Let’s Dance.” Live while you can, have fun and don’t waste time hating or loathing or speaking bad of others.

Image borrowed from Billboard.

Rabbi Tobias Rothenberg, 94

Rabbi Rothenberg says he is a collector, bordering on hoarder. He built a library at Temple Anshei Sholem which shelves 2.000 books. He studies talmud, leads prayer and remains dutifully loyal and connected to his wife, Ethel.

Part of living a long life iinvolves luck. Part of it has to be love. And part of it is having a home care worker.

How else would you get around?

Rita Erstein, 91, And Her Memories

When I shoot portraits, I ask that the sitters dress a certain way. I suggest they bring a prop or two. It gives me something to talk about and having something special in the hands of the person posing makes them realer. The stories, genuine as they can be, elevate the shoot like nothing else can.

So, Rita’s part of a project to shoot old/old people. She called me young. “I’m not young. I am young old. You are old/old. I am honored by your presence.” She reluctantly took off her glasses, telling me, “I don’t like my bags.” Hey, Rita! You get bags by getting to be your age. And besides, “you are beautiful.”

As for the book. Her husband, Buzz, whom she married after WWII carried it in France during the war. It was a book of Jewish prayers given out by the Army. He carried it in his breast pocket, because it felt uncomfortable in his rear pants pockets. When the German bomb exploded, he caught shrapnel all over his body, but not his heart. The book protected him.

Salisbury, VT – Forgotten Lives

So, I used to live in Salsibury, VT. Still have two friends who called themselves, “The Lake People.” They lived on Lake Dunmore, just up the road from Keewadin Dunmore, a camp for the privileged. People weren’t so friendly in Salisbury. Not a lot of Jews. A smelly egg place. Some antique stores. And the put in the power lines that drove out the wildlife, ruining my view.

I loved our house. Sharon hated it. Always cold. Bugs. Mice. Fear it would slide off the side of the rock.

We had turkeys and deer in the front yard. Hoards of mosquitos. Snow drifts that cost a fortune to plow. Wasps. Trees felled by lightning. Maple trees which someone tapped, paying us off in syrup of all grades. Our lives there were complicated.

When the cost of upkeep became too great and the ability to earn a living disappeared for many, people just left. We managed to sell our place. The new owner defaulted.

Luca, Photographer, Likes His 50MM CanonL 1.2

I always have a camera with me, except when I intentionally don’t. Jay Maisel said it was the first rule of photography: always have a camera with you that you know how to operate. My camera, Walker Evans, doesn’t like to stay in the car. He could attract thieves. And he doesn’t like the heat. Besides, how do I make a photo if I don’t have a camera?

Why not carry it? Somedays I just want to look. I want to see more things and not just ones that might be photographical. I also scout better when I am not thinking of shooting, maybe because I feel six pounds lighter.

So, we are shopping in Boca at Whole Foods after seeing the exhibition at the Boca Museum. On my shoulder is a Canon Mark III and a 50mm, L1.2 lens. A clerk in the produce section walks over and asks, “That a 50,1.2! How do you like it?”

“I love it.” It’s Walker’s favorite lens; my favorite walking around lens. I took shit from Dominic Chavez and Peter Turnley at two Maine Media Workshops for using it. Two photojournalists of note, they tried to get me to switch to a 35mm saying I would capture more deatails, some of which I didn’t see. These guys like a lot of background. Me. I think the 50mm is more versatile, works for street, landscape, portraits. Makes me use my feet. Cannot be lazy. Works in low light. Tack sharp. Who cares if it is a little omnipresent and sits on a big camera which draws attention? Since I shoot mostly people who know what I am doing, I don’t need to be slinking around. Usually, when I want it, I get great bokeh.

“Mine, too,” said Lucca. “Got it tattooed on my arm.”

Moran Building and Hilla Becher

So, Hilla Becher died at 81. She was too young. Another photographer who should have lasted longer.

What she and her husband brought to the party now seems banal and commonplace. But before them, people didn’t give the industrial plant any notice. We have all seen big building and smokestacks. Water towers in certain places are breeding grounds for microbial diseases. They not only saw the beauty in factories, silos and storage, they recognized them as art. Then they arranged them on posters, deemphasizing their importance, for a second, while heightening your interest in seeing what they saw. No one had done it like this before. And all our attempts are lame.

When I lived in Burlington VT, a town where the people were colder than the temperature, I wanted to shoot the Moran Building, a dilapidated structure on Lake Champlain. They had their people, their artists, their crew. Me. I just lived nearby, visiting everyday. Angry at the damage the plant did to the Lake and wondering if the next incarnation would make it healthier, I longed to get inside with my camera. One day I did. Just a short visit, enough to snap and show what I would do if given more opportunity.

The two recent UVM graduates, whatever Gov’t agency gave the money for coming up with a development plan and the fund raisers didn’t recognize my desire to contribute my work or my ability. They got people to paint images on the wall and make paintings. The architects sent me one message and probably went back to their photographer. I never heard from the Mayor or whomever controlled the art. One person told me I was on the team, though I didn’t get a jersey or a cup.

Never made it onto their list. Not a member of the inner circle of Burlington Artists. Didn’t work for the Free Press or 7 Days. Not a donator to BCA. Not sure they let people with attitude inside. They be happy with the same-old, same-old. So, we left.

The Bechers. They live within me, too. Taught me how to see, better.

Boynton Beach Has Homeless

So, I haven’t given up this life long special project, photographing the homeless and hapless. I see them everywhere, sometimes smelling them before they come into view. Giving them money helps no one, but I feel better, even if it’s only $1. Doug here begged me to help him. He started to tell me his story. I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t breathe. He asked if I knew of a shelter in the area. Like, who am I in this episode? Who are any of us?

L’Shana Tova and a Happy New Year 5775

So, it’s Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. No, not the beginning of the calendar year celebration you think of, but a time for spiritual rejuvenation. I can even pray for myself, something I usually don’t do and ask God to put me in the book of life. God did this for me last year obviously, or I would not have survived the recent removal of my gall bladder. May all of you fare as well. You are in my prayers.

So, we will eat gefilte fish and chicken. Have some chopped liver. Light the candles. And remember lost friends and family. We are pretty much alone, down here in FL. Most of our family has either died or intermarried. We carry on our traditions, preserving the memories of all those who came before, especially the ones who were needlessly and senseless killed just because they were Jewish.