Black and White Photography Blog, Vol. I

Published - Last page of April Edition - New York Spaces

What the text says:

At the time that I took that picture, I wasn’t very familiar with Central Park. I was born / raised in the Bronx. I did go to Film School in Manhattan, on the lower east side, and I’m sure I’d been to the park a few times. But when I got back into photography, I was living on east 83rd street and 2nd Ave which is about halfway between the East River and Central Park. I began to explore the park.

I was shooting at that time with large format equipment a la Ansel Adams, and of course nature is the usual subject for such equipment as it is bulky, heavy, and you pretty much need to have an idea of what you are going to shoot before you take the equipment out.

And sure enough, a few days before the rain / sleet storm, I was exploring Central Park when I came across what I later learned was called Poet’s Walk, or Literary Walk for the first time — and just like any tourist I was wowed by it. It felt like something you’d see in Paris - not in New York.

So, mental note made, that this was a place to go back to at some point. And sure enough I happen to like to photograph in the rain, snow because of the pictorial look it gives the city, and the rain started and my bag of equipment was packed and after a brief debate with myself, about getting wet and cold off I went to Poet’s Walk.

When I got there, it was empty. The sky felt like snow was on the way. There was the sound of frozen rain hitting the promenade. Where exactly to set up the camera is the first question - but that was answered with the big rain soaked tree that jutted into the frame on the left. I put a film holder into the camera, a black cloth over my head, and I looked at the composition upside down on the ground glass. Something was missing.

It’s a common trick — or if you like — technique — to have something in the frame to give some scale to the surroundings — something of known size — and behind me a couple with umbrellas were walking towards me. Ah yes. Good. I stuck my head under the black cloth again. And now I waited for the couple to reach about 2/3rds up on the frame — small enough so that the trees would get scale to them, but large enough so that you could tell that it was two figures with umbrellas.

By now I was very wet, and the holders were getting wet. I put them back in the backpack, and headed home. I had no idea that the picture I had just taken would be the best selling picture I ever took. I had no idea that the spot was so well-known. I approached it - as I say - with the fresh eyes of a tourist.

When I made the first print - I still didn’t know I had anything that good. I thought it was pretty corny. Too much of a “beauty,” postcard shot. It was alright. But nothing that special. I happened to have a friend over the house who saw the first print and immediately told me how great it was - and that it would sell. And so - that’s the story of the print and the shot. I still think there’s something postcardy about it. But I also recognize that it has it’s own beauty and each time I print it, I work to improve it in some way; and I’ve been printing it now for over twelve years.