Blog Author David Gremp

One of the advantages of retirement is, obviously, an increase in “leisure time.” And one can put that time into a multitude of activities. I always assumed that I would use it productively by picking up my camera and finding new photo projects to pursue. However “inspiration” can be an illusive beast to track down, much less tackle.

While I did spend my first few years going through my images captured during my more productive years, refreshing my memory, editing, organizing, scanning and even exhibiting, I have yet to find a new project that I feel worthy of sinking my teeth into. I’m a patient man and am pretty much at peace with what I have accomplished and where it got me, which is far from rich and famous.

I recently had lunch with an old photo buddy—another benefit of retirement and a great way to spend leisure time—and he confessed to me that while trying to celebrate his 70th birthday, he got bogged down lamenting the question, “How come I never got famous?” On one hand, I had to laugh over his audacious expectations; and on the other hand, I could feel some of his pain. I cannot deny that I too, at various times during my photo life, had “hopes” of achieving a higher degree of fame or accomplishment than winning some local competitions or even receiving a few grants and assignments to produce new work. As much as I was able to take pride in those moments of acknowledgement of my talents, in hindsight they were short lived and never led to . . . fame and fortune. An allusive illusion!

So, what have I been doing with my newfound leisure time lately? Mostly I read a lot. And fortunately there has been a recent output of biographies on “famous” photographers; to wit Robert Frank, Richard Avedon and Berenice Abbott, all of whom I have always admired and respected and knew very little about other than their photographs. So I was thrilled to see each one had finally received the attention that their lives deserved, and I was anxious to read more about them.

I mentioned the Robert Frank book, American Witness: The Art and Life of Robert Frank by R. J. Smith in an earlier blog. It was a great surprise to me when I saw it, and it was a pleasure to learn more about such a famous, influential and yet illusive figure in the history of photography. Frank was unique in that while he did receive huge praise (and fame) for the work he did at a relatively young age, he never became obsessed with matching or surpassing that. In fact, he did quite the opposite by moving on to other forms of expression—mostly through films—and more personal and private pursuits. At 93 years of age, he is still with us and yet will be primarily remembered and revered for what he accomplished in just a few short years as a young artist.

I also read Avedon: Something Personal by Norma Stevens & Steven M.L. Aronson. Avedon was born just one year before Frank, and he too was more than worthy of a long and detailed biography. And, his life and accomplishments couldn’t be further apart than Frank’s. Avedon was a much more driven and, you might say, compulsive practitioner of his trade and art, having left behind an impressive and expansive body of work that spanned 5 full decades. While he earned his living and exalted reputation as a groundbreaking fashion photographer, he was equally ambitious and creative through his portraiture, with many of his subjects being celebrities in their own right. While Avedon was seemingly hugely successful and one of the very few photographers to achieve “household name” status and fame, I was surprised to learn how hard he had to fight to be acknowledged as an “artist” rather than “merely” a fashion photographer. It wasn’t enough for him to be rich and famous, he wanted it on his own terms, and he worked extremely hard at that until his dying day.

Another excellent example of a photographer wo did extremely due diligence creating and protecting her career and legacy was Berenice Abbott. And she not only had to do that for herself but for the life and works of Eugene Atget, the early 20th century French photographer whose archive she purchased and brought to public light. As the book Berenice Abbott: A Life in Photography by Julia VanHaaften describes in scrupulous detail, Abbott spent most of her adult life consumed by the nitty gritty of the business, legal and political battles she faced and fought vigilantly for in order that she AND Atget received their rightful due in the marketplace and in history. She was a relentless warrior who lost more than her share of battles and friendships along the way, but won the war on both fronts in the end. A remarkable story.

Finally, another remarkable career, though nearly the polar opposite of Abbott's is chronicled in Vivien Maier: A Photographer’s Life and Afterlife by Pamela Bannos. As has been well documented and publicized, this so-called “nanny photographer” produced a rather prolific body of work throughout her life and shared it with virtually NO ONE. It wasn’t until her negatives and prints were purchased in bulk and mostly sight unseen at auctions from storage lockers that her work gradually—and not without controversy—came to light, and she came to fame posthumously. It seems strange that someone who was that talented and passionate about her work, which in her street photography was such a public act, could or would be so reclusive in sharing it. The book weaves a strange and mysterious tale of not only her life but her afterlife when her legacy was left in the hands of complete, and sometimes nefarious strangers.

Ah, to be or not to be . . . famous. While we each have our own ways of protecting and projecting our work, we can always learn something from those who proceeded us. It’s nice to see that the book-publishing world still has its eyes—and focus—on photography. Write on! Read on!!!!!!!