The NY Times Magazine style issue caught my eye because of the article on David Lynch with portrait by Nadav Kander. As you can probably surmise given my other tastes, I’m one of those people that really likes David Lynch, one of those people, that in college, turned in hyperbolic-quasi-intellectual-DFWallace-inspired essays on Lynch with, in retrospect, embarrassing pride. Still, he’s atop my list of people I’d like to take a portrait of, and I wish I’d the balls to say I could have bettered Nadav on the job, but the portrait he shot for this article was perfect, so I secede.
photo: David Lynch, photographed by Nadav Kander for the NY Time Magazine
Check out more of Nadav Kander’s work here. You can tell the guy just loves to make cool images. Plus, I don’t know a photographer that isn’t envious of his ability to have such a varied body of work that functions so effectively as one.
Polaroids from a spring editorial. Keep your eyes on the newsstands, should hit’em in May.
polaroid: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
polaroid: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
Details:
Styling: Anna Shimonis
M.U.: Meredith Baraf
Hair: Sarah Potempa
Model: Marissa w/ Elite
Location: Studio 814 (yes, a special thanks to Studio 814 who facilitated our every need.)
Last ones for awhile:
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
Yet more:
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
All psychologies, all minds, all beings of this city are in sync, ebbing and flowing together in response to the day of the week, the weather, the moon, the stars, and anything else that one can imagine or not imagine. It is one organism of humanity working within what we’ve fashioned, guided by will and contorted by things completely and utterly out of our control. This is observable in long stretches of poor weather that will erode the stability of the collective psyche. In the winter, after it’s been cold for more days than people can remember and the violent heat of Aug becomes a fond memory, it is not uncommon for these crystalline chicaneries to brush up against you, emotionally perverted interactions with people and surroundings, and unlike the apparitions of summer that seem to take place behind a cloud of suffering and surrealism, the winter strums of fatigue and of hopes of hope.
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
Let me share a such a tale of hope; I declare too, not an uncommon sort of a tale at that.
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
A sane lady (sane vs. insane being a natural/common/necessary distinction) came to me on an otherwise empty subway platform late at night and began a civil conversation. After discussing the weather she said, in July my mother died, God rest her soul. I replied, I’m sorry to hear that. She continued, there has to be something more than this, God there has to be, this can’t be it, can it(?), I know she has to be in a better place, this, this (looking around the otherwise empty subway station) can’t be all there it (etc)… I stood there silent, looking at her, mesmerized by the rhythmic chant of longing that was her voice. I tell you, it was wrenching. I didn’t tell her how skeptical I was, how I attempted and failed (so far) to believe. And I didn’t need to b/c the next thing she said was, what if there isn’t more, maybe there isn’t, maybe this is it, we’re born to live and we live to die, and that means she (her mom) is resting, just resting, God rest her soul. Yes, I thought, the endless rest: click, like turning the TV off: nothing, not even black. Nothing.
This woman was amidst an existential journey, keeping company with great philosophers past and present and, likely, future. I hope she doesn’t abandon it – possibly it is a quest w/o resolve, but it is not w/o merit.
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
Then, later, I’d seen a lady with a newborn in a carriage on the train. The lady was quietly in sobbing. Looking closer, I saw the newborn had medical equipment on the carriage and was noticeably disabled. Perspective and sadness and helplessness clenched their teeth and beat their fists, and I wanted so bad to tell her she was ok, that she was brave, that she was more at that moment than many people would ever become.
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
Then, later, a man and a woman in Tompkins Sq Park, sitting on a bench with the chess players and derelicts, stopped me. They’d just been married 2 hours prior. They wanted me to photograph them and mail them a picture. I obligingly took their portrait while they proudly held their marriage certificate. Their happiness erased all themes of iniquity that the environment supposed.
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
Et cetera.
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2007
When shooting 4×5 it’s not uncommon for other photographers to inquire about the camera I use, b/c the camera itself is a bit uncommon, so I figured it was worth noting here. First a little background, when I originally set out to find a 4×5, I searched for some time trying to find one that suited my style of shooting fashion and portraits, both on location and in the studio. I wanted a camera that was tuff, small, quick to operate, but also with decent bellow draw and movements to spare on both standards. These criteria ruled out everything I knew of. Finally, I was informed about the Linhof Color.
A hidden gem, it’s been out of production for ages as far as I can tell, but it basically amounts to a Linhof Technika on a rail. It’s built like a tank, sexy, and I can fit it, a few lenses, and holders in a Domke bag.
As I side note, yeah, sure, for the most part a 67 RZ can cover almost everything, but for that extra 3%…well, a nice piece of sheet film can be something else.
photo: Covet Spring ’07, ©Graeme Mitchell, 2006
DbClay is an accessories company, and at the helm of it is my friend, Garett. Because I want to be honest about my respect for how much heart these guys put into their work and lives, I need to point out that the wallets are all a front. Beyond that shiny fashion world veneer dbclay is, in my estimation, more of a creative think tank appropriating the fringes of art, content, technology, design, and dreams – then incorporating such into an architecture accessible to all…but you really need to drink, uhm, say 6 rounds of Rainers at Shanghais with these guys to appreciate this. Don’t fret; Rainers are only like $1 at the Shanghei (a small entry fee to pow-wow in a place haunted with struggle). Now, mind you, I take pride in not offering props gratuitously, even to friends, but I admire those striving for something, those setting their alarm to prompt the beginning of something great, and that’s the kind of people at dbclay.
The first pic here is going to be in dbclay’s next line. The rest are from the same trip I took spring of 2002, back when I was in love and still believed in color…
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2002
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2002
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2002
photo: ©Graeme Mitchell, 2002
(p.s. Garett, about our discussion on exploring writers, when I said you should read Kafka, that I think he’d interest you, well it just occurred to me in writing this post that Borges maybe would suit you too. He is the kind of writer you read at night before taking a long walk on streets with the company of only your shadow and the out of tune noises of the night, the noises of life slowing forgetting the days fortunes and misfortunes, like the creaks of an old house settling it’s foundation. Indeed, Borges inspires reveries. Kafka…Kafka I think is more weekend morning sort of writer. You’ll need a day to unwind your mind after he twists and snaps it like a kitchen towel.)
Magnum has a beautiful blog up and rolling. I think it’ll be worth keeping an eye on. That, and I like to from time to time check out the work they’ve been doing in conjunction with Slate (here); the interactive photo essays can be particularly good.
