In some way, I only know how to take one photo. I just do it at different times and locations. It brings to mind a quote from blues harmonica legend Charlie Musselwhite: “I only know one tune, and I play it faster or slower, or I change the key, but it’s just the one tune I’ve ever played in my life. It’s all I know.” There is a particular photo by Lee Friedlander that I believe may be the basis for my photographic approach. I discovered it in 1978, in a book titled Concerning Photography. At that time, I was just learning how to use a camera and was very passionate about this new endeavor.
The black and white photo, titled “Albuquerque, New Mexico, 1972,” shows an intersection cluttered with a hydrant and various poles. There is a car tire in frame on the right, as well as a high-rise apartment building. In the centre, there is a small house (or small bank building), and on the right—the pièce de résistance – a dog sitting on the sidewalk, partially obscured by a pole, looking like it’s waiting to use the crosswalk. So much information, and wonderful balance of so many elements. And such beautiful, creamy black and white tones. The photo is bursting with creativity, intelligence and deadpan humour–and seems to be the visual equivalent of jazz music.
Over the course of forty years, I have taken many kinds of photos—landscapes, portraits, documentary, editorial, but I keep returning to this wonderful Lee Friedlander photo with its delicate balance of design elements, its visual humour and social commentary. When I go out into the world with my camera, the most satisfying moments come when I know I have taken a quirky photo, one that makes the viewer do a double take. It may be the only photo I know how to take, yet I was there, and I saw that!
