Garry Winogrand’s premature death seven years ago was tragic and troubling. He was too young to die. He had not yet worked through what was clearly a very difficult passage in his photographic work. To want to eulogize him and his work seems natural. To want to assess his career in positive terms seems reasonable. To find oneself torn by the feeling that an honest assessment might expose something that is less than had been anticipated has, however, become the reality of the task at hand.
Winograd photographed, to paraphrase him, to see what the photograph would look like. Simple. This art critic is confused because of his western art critic approach. An eastern philosopher would have no trouble accepting Winograd’s koan like statement and the unity of his body of work under that concept.