For a while now, I’ve heard and read many photographers whose work I admire mention
Robert Frank, and particularly
The Americans, as being an inspiration. (Shane Lavalette wrote earlier this month about Frank’s Rolling Stones documentary called
Cocksucker Blues, a post definitely worth checking out—click
here to read it.)
I’d known about Frank for a while, and I’d seen some of the photographs from
The Americans online, but I hadn’t ever seen an actual copy of the book. As far as I can tell, it’s not currently in print — last I checked, the least-expensive copy at
Amazon.com was listed for $199.99 and
Powell’s didn’t have it. Found a copy at my local public library, though, and picked it up today.
The three that stand out for me now, after a first look, are
Television studio—Burbank, California, because looking at it from this vantage point, over 50 years later, it seems to foreshadow Americans’ obsession with watching ourselves and each other;
Movie premiere—Hollywood, because it’s all glamour and heartbreak (I don’t know whose face is sadder: the woman on the left with her hand up to her mouth, or the movie star); and
U.S. 91, leaving Blackfoot, Idaho, because it shows that sort of intense focus that comes from staring at the road when you don’t really know where you’re going but you just want to get somewhere far away from where you are. Of course, now, having chosen just three to mention, my mind is swimming with others, and I realize that’s the point.
Television studio—Burbank, California. Copyright © Robert Frank
Movie premiere—Hollywood, California. Copyright © Robert Frank
U.S. 91, leaving Blackfoot, Idaho. Copyright © Robert Frank
In
LIFE magazine (November 26, 1951), Frank said, “When people look at my pictures I want them to feel the way they do when they want to read a line of a poem twice.” I don’t think there’s any doubt that he succeeds at this. And I like, too, the connection between photography and poetry. It made me think of Alec Soth’s Friday poems, which seem so natural a fit for a photographer like Soth, whose images are as much poetry as Frank’s are. It all ties together.
I remember being in high school and reading a book that made reference to a character in another book, by another author—a book I had read. I can’t remember now which books they were, but I remember the feeling I had, that sense that it was all coming together, that I was learning the vocabulary of a society, that I had insider knowledge. That’s when it all clicked for me, that this was a hell of a lot of fun, this learning thing. And even today, whenever I make one of those connections, it feels like I’ve found a piece to a puzzle and the picture is becoming clearer.
I got into it with a
Republican at the Y the other day, and his brilliant retort was, “I don’t know how old you are, but you’ve got a lot to learn.” He’s right—and thank god for that.
Copyright © 2007 Liz Kuball
Labels: Alec Soth, books, education, music, photographers, poetry, politics, Robert Frank, Shane Lavalette, The Rolling Stones
