Garry Winogrand (American, 1928-1984). Untitled (Cape Cod), 1966. 35mm color slide. Collection of the Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona. During the 1950s and ‘60s, Garry Winogrand made…
Known best for his black and white photographs that pioneered a snapshot aesthetic in fine art, Winogrand’s color work is now receiving its due in Garry Winogrand: Color at the Brooklyn Museum, now through December 8, 2019.
Geoff Dyer’s new book, The Street Philosophy of Garry Winogrand, is more linear than his first, The Ongoing Moment, but no less idiosyncratic. Selecting one hundred images from among the estimated one million that the fantastically prolific street photogr
In Geoff Dyer’s first book about photography, The Ongoing Moment (2005), the English critic and novelist looked at images by a group of his favorite photographers through a prism of motifs that he believed had reoccurred like Jungian archetypes across decades and continents. How and why these mundane subjects or objects (blind people, hats, roads, clouds, benches, doors, gas stations, barber shops) had been successively reinterpreted by Paul Strand, Walker Evans, André Kertész, Eugène Atget, Dorothea Lange, Robert Frank, Diane Arbus, William Eggleston, and thirty-four others formed the basis for a series of uncommonly original and engaging, if at times wayward, observations and reflections. Emulating Roland Barthes, Dyer oscillated between close readings of individual pictures and free associations. A photograph by Kertész from 1914, of an old man walking at night in Hungary, say, reminds him of a Cavafy poem because he reads both as nostalgic documents.
In “The Street Philosophy of Garry Winogrand,” Geoff Dyer picked 100 of the street photographer’s images and wrote essays about each one.
Thirty-four years after his death, Garry Winogrand’s photographs continue to charm, befuddle and amaze viewers. A new book, “The Street Philosophy of Garry Winogrand,” takes 100 photos and pairs each with an essay by Geoff Dyer. The experience was daunting, especially sifting through the stream of images shot in his prolific final years. But it was also quite the revelation. Jordan Teicher spoke with Mr. Dyer about the book, which was published by the University of Texas Press. Their conversation has been edited.
Pictures that capture a moment in history sometimes contain a glint of magic, an element of wonder that can never be fully understood.
Larry Sultan once said he “always thought of a great photograph as if some creature walked into my room; it’s like, how did you get here? ... The more you try to control the world, the less magic you get.” Winogrand had no objection to staging things; it was just that he could never come up with anything as interesting as what was out there in the streets. But when does the staging start?
It’s Winningham who introduces Winogrand, saying “Welcome to the Winogrand circus,” and then Winogrand asks for questions from the students. He talks about how he works, his approach to different subjects, and the work of other photographers (Robert Frank, Walker Evans, Bruce Davidson–at 21:44: “[East 100th Street] is sickening…morally, it’s sickening, and photographically it’s just a goddamned bore,” and others). It’s a wide-ranging and very informal talk, but offers a fascinating perspective from Winogrand about his own work and others’.
Garry Winogrand was one of the most notable and prolific American street photographers of the 20th century. He is known for capturing a vast record of
In 1977, Winogrand was invited to speak to Rice Students about photography. Over the course of two hours, the photographer answered all kinds of questions and discussed a wide range of topics regarding photography, his work, and his thoughts.
A blockbuster exhibition, a jam-packed catalogue—and an extended interview with the man responsible for the curatorial vision behind this once-in-a-generation exhibition
LensCulture assistant editor Alexander Strecker had the opportunity to sit down with the curator of the show, Leo Rubinfien, to find out more. The long conversation offered a variety of wonderful insights: both on the scale of details and what went into the practically Herculean task of curating Winogrand's life's work but also on the larger scale, from the universal perspective of "What is photography all about...?"
“The world is not a tidy place,” said the American photographer Garry Winogrand. “It’s a mess. I never try to put it in order.” His photographs seem to exist in a kind of unstable equilibrium. It shifts and seethes within the frame, pushing at its edges. The figures laugh and shout, their glances sharp as knives. Even the horizon is crooked. It’s as if life itself was crammed into a small rectangular frame:
a letter that one of Winogrand’s three wives had sent Winogrand. She complained that he hadn’t paid his taxes or allowed her to have a child because “all he wanted to do was take photographs and talk about his dreams.”
Garry Winogrand’s 25-year retrospective, currently on display at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., includes Winogrand’s iconic images of everyday Americans—New Yorkers out on the street, lone figures in busy airports, and eerie scenes of we
I found myself skimming past many of the photographs that were developed and printed after Winogrand’s death and wishing the curators had cut the show down by a few dozen prints. Still, I got so sucked into the 200 or so remaining images—vivid, visceral portrayals of America teetering between tremendous success and terrible collapse—that I’m already planning my second visit to the show.
A National Gallery exhibit shows a photographer breaking sharply with the “magazine humanism” of his day.
The photographs of Garry Winogrand, on view in a comprehensive retrospective of his career at the National Gallery of Art, give only enough information to establish which pieces are on the chess board, but we don’t know who is playing, if anyone is winning, or whether there’s a game on at all. It’s possible, like the pattern waves make on the beach, that this is all random, undirected and meaningless
This year’s offerings range from enormous, luxe tomes like Garry Winogrand to smaller, more intimate works like The Pigs. Overall the selection confirms — in a heartening way, for all of us — that even as unwieldy maelstroms of information emerge from all of our digital devices, many of us still enjoy being transfixed, or transported, by an encounter with a singular vision. After all, the pleasure and quiet thrill that one gets sitting down with a good book — especially one that pushes the boundaries of the format — simply can’t be reproduced in mere ones and zeroes. In that spirit of celebrating a still-vital art form, we humbly offer our take on the photobooks we loved most in 2013.
Garry Winogrand . Photographs by Garry Winogrand. Published by Yale University Press , 2013. Garry Winogrand Reviewed by Blake An...
All in all, the book has the size and scope we've come to expect from similar retrospectives. It feels comparable to Friedlander, the 2005 MoMA survey. That is to say, both are enormous, calculated, and resourceful. Both will flatten any troublesome print left underneath. And both attempt a task which is perhaps impossible, to sum up 40 odd years in a few hundred pages and improve the understanding of someone already very well known
Mr. Winogrand was so prolific that he could hardly be bothered to edit his work. A new retrospective explores the relentless output of a complicated artist.
New York’s photographic community was small enough in the 1970s that you could spot Garry Winogrand and Lee Friedlander patrolling opposite sides of Fifth Avenue on the same day. But it was Garry, with his big presence and personality, whom I saw more often.
When photographer Marie-Laure de Decker asked her former agency to return 770 of her images, little did she know that she would be fined €10,000 for wasting the agency's time. Olivier Laurent speaks with both parties