Category: Photographers/Photography

Trenton Bath House, Louis Kahn — © Brian Rose

In the next couple of weeks I hope to photograph the Trenton Bath House, one of architect Louis Kahn’s earliest works in its current almost ruined state. This modest, but sublime structure, is about to be restored, and amazingly, considering its pedigree, will be returned to its use as changing rooms and showers for a community swimming pool.

Trenton Bath House, Louis Kahn — © Brian Rose

I took these pictures while walking through the project with Michael Mills, partner of Farewell Mills Gatsch Architects (FMG), a Princeton firm that specializes in preservation. The history of the bath house and a description of the plans for restoring the building can be found here.

Trenton Bath House, Louis Kahn — © Brian Rose

In an email to Michael Mills expressing what I feel is the importance of photographing the bath house before restoration takes place, I wrote this:

There is also something seductive about seeing the bath house now. Coming across it in its winter abandonment, it feels like the discovery of some ancient temple ruin. There is a solemnity about it–a poignancy–a silence full of the meaning that Kahn invested in this otherwise utilitarian recreational project. That authenticity will be partially, and inevitably lost, though the building will be reborn, and will again assume its original purpose. The restored project will express Kahn’s design undisturbed by later interventions and neglect, but the present moment is unique–a historical juncture–and I think that it deserves full and considered documentation.

A few months after the fall of the Berlin Wall, I had the opportunity take a tour of Erich Mendelsohn’s Einstein Tower, an icon of early 20th century architecture located just outside Berlin in Potsdam. Most of those on the tour were East Germans who had signed up before the Wall had opened. I brought my view camera along, despite the inconvenience of lugging such equipment, hoping to get at least one good photograph. After a tedious hour-long slide talk about the solar observatory, we were led to the building, sitting forlornly, but miraculous–rundown like most structures in the east–but essentially frozen in time. I managed to get a half dozen pictures of the tower including an interior complete with original Mendelsohn furniture and cabinetwork, still in use. After the reunification of Germany, the Einstein Tower was beautifully restored, but there is something about the photographs I took that day in 1990 that can’t be captured in the present.

Such moments in time are worth documenting.

Trenton Bath House, Louis Kahn — © Brian Rose

Trenton Bath House, Louis Kahn — © Brian Rose

Christopher and Hudson Streets — © Brian Rose

No walls. Buy clothes.

Bergen Street, Bedford-Stuyvesant — © Brian Rose

Without comment.

Bedford Avenue, Williamsburg, Brooklyn — © Brian Rose

Without comment.

Bergen Street, Bedford-Stuyvesant — © Brian Rose

Wythe Street, Williamsburg — © Brian Rose

Park Avenue, East Harlem — © Brian Rose

The Bowery — © Brian Rose

Without comment.

Meyerowitz exhibition at MCNY — © Brian Rose

Writing about Joel Meyerowitz is complicated for me. While a student at MICA in Baltimore in the mid ’70s, I saw his color street photography, and having just begun shooting color myself, I endeavored to go to New York and study with him at Cooper Union. My success at getting into Cooper was a critical event in my life, and the experiences I had there greatly influenced and shaped my later career.

Meyerowitz’s show at the Museum of the City of New York, Legacy: The Preservation of Wilderness in New York City Parks, is particularly problematic for me to write about because I did my own survey of New York’s natural park areas back in the ’80s, 30 years before Meyerowitz came to the subject on his own. Go here to see that work.

Meyerowitz exhibition at MCNY — © Brian Rose

I really like this image, party balloons incongruously discovered in the depths of apparent wilderness, actually a fenced-off patch of Central Park.

Legacy, the exhibition, seems to me unsure about its focus and intention. It seeks to be at once a celebration of the richness of New York’s surprisingly spacious natural landscape, and a showcase of Joel Meyerowitz, “master photographer.” But because the images are grouped primarily by borough and park, other possible lines of continuity and inquiry are cut off. A different organization of photographs could have revealed deeper connections in content and method of working. There are any number of substantial images in the exhibit, but their cumulative power has been dispersed. What we’re presented with is a user-friendly Baedeker to New York’s natural parks.

Meyerowitz exhibition at MCNY — © Brian Rose

A fantasia of red and green, an unnaturally vibrant print, in my view.

Another factor cheapening the impact of many of the images is the overly saturated color–the blindingly phosphorescent greens and reds–nothing like the beautifully modulated color of Meyerowitz’s earlier analog prints. New York’s parks have been digitally enhanced.

Meyerowitz exhibition at MCNY — © Brian Rose

The opening wall-sized murals printed on loose, Tyvek paper are nothing less than cringe inducing–Meyerowitz photographs as shower curtains. Unfortunately, a few of the strongest images in the show–once you’re past the Bronx River adventure ride (seen above)–are printed in this way.

Photograph by Joel Meyerowitz

The naked armature of an immense tree in Brooklyn, thick branches almost defying gravity. An admirably straightforward image made without any need for visual contrivance.

Much of what went wrong with Legacy can be found here:

“Experiencing the print quality and longevity of HP Designjet photo printers was a key turning point in my own personal digital transformation,” said Joel Meyerowitz. “HP’s innovative printing technology has made it easy to express my work in new, creative ways and with this project, I was not only able to showcase exhibit-quality prints but also high-quality, immersive wall graphics that capture the essence of New York City’s parks.” Go here for the whole press release.

Enough said.

E103rd Street and Lexington Avenue — © Brian Rose

Manhattan, “island of many hills” from the Lenape language, seems mostly flat, but there are places where you are reminded of the original name. At 103rd Street on the east side, Spanish Harlem, there is a slope of near San Francisco pitch. To the south of 96th Street it is called Carnegie Hill, which is a tony Upper Side neighborhood.

E103rd Street — © Brian Rose

Cervin Robinson — © Brian Rose

Making my usual morning walk across town I came upon Cervin Robinson at Houston and Crosby Street. He was photographing the Bayard-Condict Building, Louis Sullivan’s only New York structure. Robinson has photographed this building before–and many other Sullivan buildings.

Here’s a screen capture of one his photographs of the same building made many years ago.

Photograph by Cervin Robinson

I didn’t linger to chat with Cervin because I could see that at that moment a shaft of low winter light was raking perfectly across the facade of the building at the top of Crosby Street.

Crosby Street — © Brian Rose

I was drawn into Crosby Street just off Houston by the ASPCA truck with a large cat face gazing slightly upward. It was parked in front of Happy Paws Daycare with a lot of happy dogs cavorting in the windows along the street.

Unhappily there were signs on each plate glass window stating “No Photos Allowed.” Never mind the fact that a private business can not legally prevent one from taking pictures on a public street in this city or any other in the United States. See first amendment for reference.

University Place — © Brian Rose

A few blocks away I found this storefront.

Prince Street — © Brian Rose

Prince Street — © Brian Rose

Without comment.

Funeral home, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

It was not a happy circumstance that brought me across the James River to Franklin, Virginia two summers ago. A cherished aunt had passed away after a long convalescence. The mood was somber, but also relieved, as her long struggle had finally ended peacefully.

Funeral home, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

After the funeral, family members gathered at Fred’s, a comfortably informal bistro on Main Street. I slipped out during the afternoon to take photographs of downtown Franklin. I walked the empty street shooting storefronts, peanut silos, and a former theater. In the distance I could just make out the smokestacks of the International Paper Mill, formerly Union Camp, where Aunt Louise worked for much of her life.

Main Street, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Main Street, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Main Street, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

When the Camp family owned the mill, most of the wealth stayed in town, and large houses were built on the bluff above the Blackwater River. The river, Franklin’s reason for being, has also been its nemesis. In 1999 hurricane Floyd left the downtown underwater, and a storm in 2006 did further damage. Despite efforts to rejuvenate downtown—most buildings appeared in good condition–many storefronts remain empty or underutilized.

Main Street, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Main Street, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Main Street, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Although the Camp name is still prominent in Franklin, the fate of the mill, and by default, the economic well being of the whole area was long ago put into the hands of a global corporation. Just two months ago, International Paper decided to close the plant, putting 1,100 employees out of work, along with another 2,000 workers in related services.

Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Peanut silos, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

I think of Louise, her pride and self-sufficiency. As hard as it was for me to picture her toiling on an assembly line year after year, I know she retired with the satisfaction that she had earned her keep, and could afford to live comfortably, if frugally, as she got older. But what if they had closed the plant on her?

Undoubtedly, Franklin will survive—but it will be hard. Perhaps, eventually, a more diversified economy will emerge as the orbits of Hampton Roads and Richmond expand outward. But I’m not sure I want to see malls and highways overrunning small cities like Franklin, displacing the surrounding cotton and peanut fields, and carpeting over the history—with all its blood, sweat, and tears—of the Southside of the James.

Paper mill, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Lyon’s State Theatre, Main Street, Franklin, Virginia — © Brian Rose

NPR story on Franklin here.

P.S.1, Long Island City — © Brian Rose

Coming out of P.S.1, the Long Island City art museum, I pressed my camera up against the wall and did an almost sharp time exposure. In the foreground are metal tubes left over from an earlier installation. Having just seen Robert Bergman’s haunted and hollowed out faces at the museum I find myself in a rather somber mood as the 00’s come to an end.

Robert Bergman photograph at P.S. 1 — © Brian Rose

Bergman’s photographs are beautiful, disturbingly so. But I don’t subscribe to Toni Morrison’s description of his pictures that they assert “community, the unextinguishable sacredness of the human race.” It has become obligatory to find redemptive qualities where none exists. Not that the people in Bergman’s photos lack human tenacity–of course they do–but their faces express the damage of surviving on the margins of society, held in the amber glow of Bergman’s light and color. They are roadside totems–mute, unidentified–storied eyes that suggest hard wisdom. But most of us would recoil from these quite likely rambling, chaotic, figures in the flesh.

Robert Bergman photograph at P.S. 1 — © Brian Rose

The beauty found belies a cruelty, one of the central dichotomies of photography, that people and things must be “sacrificed” on the altar of art. The redemption, if there is any, is that Bergman succeeds at street portraiture where so many other photographers fail, and with these gravely intense images, the end justifies the means.

Washington Post article here.

A series of photographs taken while visiting family in Williamsburg, Virginia. It was actually quite crowded in the restored area, and one either embraces the throng or not. I chose–this time–to go with quiet views on a couple of cloudy days. An antidote, perhaps, for somewhat too much seasonal good cheer and togetherness. Williamsburg can be quite beautiful in the winter, especially after the new year when the tourist traffic thins out.


Williamsburg, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Williamsburg, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Williamsburg, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Williamsburg, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Williamsburg, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Painter, Virginia — © Brian Rose

We headed down to Virginia for the holiday to see my father who lives in Williamsburg. Instead of subjecting myself to 8 hours of stressful interstate driving I decided to take the Eastern Shore route, which took us through the farming areas of the Delmarva peninsula. We stopped a few times for pictures along the way.

Painter, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Painter, Virginia — © Brian Rose

Lots of God, country, and guns in these parts. Also, beaches, crabbing, truck farming, poultry–even a NASA research facility.

Williamsburg, Brooklyn — © Brian Rose

Tis the season.

La Mama gallery, E1st Street — © Brian Rose

The large Lower East Side print I made for my exhibition in Brooklyn last summer, is now hanging in a group show at La Mama gallery on E1st Street between the Bowery and Second Avenue. It’s a holiday exhibition featuring friends of La Mama, the pioneering theater located on E4th Street, the block where I used to live.

I had a nice chat with Howard Guttenplan the director of the Millenium Film Workshop, also on 4th Street, who had a photo collage in the exhibit. Millenium has been around for forty years promoting independent cinema, particularly art and documentary films.

The exhibition at La Mama is a grab bag of stuff of differing levels of accomplishment. It’s meant to be an inclusive show. The opening was well attended, nicely catered, and I was very pleased with how my photograph looked on the wall. Now, if only I can find a home for it when the show comes down.

The last–probably–of the 4×5 film scans of from my recent trip to Berlin. I shot about 60 sheets of film, so there’s lots to work with. Some of these are similar to digital pics posted earlier. When things get reduced to 72 dpi, the difference between the 4×5 scans and the images made with my pocket camera can seem minimal. But I think these have greater clarity, and more presence somehow. Obviously, when printed, the difference is huge.

Alexanderplatz (4×5 film) — © Brian Rose

Alexanderplatz (4×5 film) — © Brian Rose

A fascinating exhibition about the political resistance that undermined the DDR regime–and other East European countries–and helped lead to the fall of the Wall in 1989. The American and western perspective, in general, is so oriented to Cold War geopolitics, that this side of the story is almost completely ignored. It is a profound misrepresentation of history, and exhibits like this, bit by bit, offer a much needed corrective.

Niederkirchnerstrasse (4×5 film) — © Brian Rose

Berlin Wall marker with push button audio commentary.

Vossstrasse (4×5 film) — © Brian Rose

One of the many scaffold buildings around Berlin. Some of them depict buildings to be rebuilt or reimagined, and others are simply giant canvases for advertising. A Microsoft Windows ad was on the the front side of this one, which formed part of the former, and future, streetwall of Leipziger Platz.

Topography of Terror (4×5 film) — © Brian Rose

Brandenburg Gate (4×5 film) — © Brian Rose

Cameras in position on December 8th, for the following evening’s event celebrating the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall.

Lafayette Street — © Brian Rose

Without comment.