While I started taking photographs in 1958 in Austin,
Texas, I did not become a magazine photographer until the late 70s when with my
wife and two daughters we moved to Vancouver, British Columbia.
I was exposed to the influence and guidance of very good
art directors who pushed me to excel and to never just make the motion of
taking photographs.
Quickly I learned that constraints were paramount to
creativity. I photographed many politicians, actors, directors and rock stars
who would give me five minutes to shoot. I found quickly that when I was given
lots of time I was baffled as to what to do after those five minutes had
passed.
The methodology then became going into a room or
situation and quickly decided what could not be done and only what could.
In the last five years leading to this pandemic 2020
journalism in both magazines and newspapers has faded and because I am 77 I can
point out that I am obsolete, redundant, retired and inconsequential.
This does not mean that I have stored my cameras. Quite
on the contrary I used them as much as I can and my image creativity has
proceeded also with my scans of our garden plants.
When possible I take portraits of my two granddaughters.
They are not snapshots. I use my intimate little studio in our Kitsilano (a
Vancouver neighbourhood) duplex.
But at this advanced age I have not given up on my
obsessive desire to photograph the undraped female and to push the boundaries
of what is a cerebral eroticism.
Just a couple of weeks ago I agreed to meet up with Emily
(she lives in Victoria) in the parking lot of the local, Vancouver Queen
Elizabeth Park. The parking lot that is further away from the central garden is
quite private. She showed up and found my light silver/blue Chevrolet Cruze.
After I thoroughly disinfected its interior she got in and closed all doors and
windows. I shot with my Fuji X-E3.
My theory that limits are good for creativity, I believe
are evident.
For the rest of the photographs look here.