Art is Personal

[The first day's comments have been added.]

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I MIGHT BE OLD
...but I got to see all the best bands

—One of my friend Dan's T-shirts

I had the best weekend. Yesterday, on fairly short notice, we staged a Zoom reunion of my photography school graduating class—the Photography Department Class of '85 at the old Corcoran School of Art (as it was then called) in Washington, D.C.

It wasn't as big an event as you might be picturing—when I entered as a second-year student (first year was a foundation program in art before students specialized into departments), there were 15 of us in the Photo Department. When we graduated, only eight remained. Seven of the eight of us were in touch for this reuniting, but one had prior commitments and couldn't attend (hopefully Adrian will make it next time). Our classmate Sheri Lyn Marshall couldn't be located—the only person I knew who had been in touch with her recently was our teacher Mark L. Power, who largely built the photography program at the Corcoran in the 1970s—but I couldn't ask him; Mark died last August.

Being part of such a small class has definite advantages. Art is personal, and being mashed together for so much of our schooling for three years made us close in ways that have never been replicated in my life. Our graduating group of four men and four women had little in common in 1982 apart from a love of photography, but, even after 35 years, we slipped easily into the old dynamic. Seeing everyone again brought vividly to the forefront just how important these people were to me, then and in my subsequent life. We knew each other really well.

Engagé
We were known then to be a volatile, opinionated, vigorous, forceful, and lively group. The then-chairman of the Department, Steve Szabo, once commented to me privately that our group had "ten times the energy" of certain other classes the faculty had known over the years. Critiques, the core of the didactic method at the school, could be, ahh, let's say, very engaged. Jay Townsend wrote, after the meeting, "My wife and I still hang out with a lot of the fine arts folks from the Corcoran, and their interpersonal communications are generally very touchy-feely, quiet and sensitive, whereas our group is much more blunt, free-wheeling and challenging, but still very supportive of each other." In the group each one of us has a lot of integrity, I think, and long ago we learned to be honest with each other.  

We visited for two and a half hours on Sunday, on Zoom. Sarah Huntington called the meetup life-affirming, energizing, and inspiring, and got that right. But then that's the way we were. The reunion was one of the true bright spots of the Time of the Contagion for me. As competitive as we could be back then, it's so easy to see now that I really love these amazing people. I learned so much from all of them, and from our experience together. My time with them at the Corcoran shaped me.

Life is strange
It's true that it's best to be young, and, given the choice, we'd be young, for some definition of the word, if we could be. But later years have consolations as well. As I approach traditional retirement age, I really am deeply grateful that I lived across the span of years I did. It's been the perfect stretch of history to be involved in photography. When I was born, Edward Weston, Paul Strand, Edward Steichen, and Dorothea Lange were still alive. The Decisive Moment was five years old and The Americans would be published a year later. To see everything and watch everything that has happened up to now...well, I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

The Corcoran sits in the midst of that experience. When I arrived there I had been forced to drop out of Dartmouth after doing very well there, and then (alcoholism raging, by that time) I crashed and burned out of Reed College in Portland all on my own. I didn't expect to fit in at the Corcoran, didn't expect to make friends, never thought I'd be anything but an outsider. If I'm honest, I didn't expect to learn much—I had already been busy teaching myself photography for two years at that point. I was pretty cynical. Originally, I planned to stay for only one year—my reasoning was that one year was better than none, and I thought one year was as long as I'd have patience for.

But life is strange. To my great surprise, I found a whole community of like-minded souls and made many friends. My frozen heart thawed out. I didn't have a teacher I didn't learn from, and I had veritable Socratic experiences with several of them. I stopped drinking, fell in love, learned to see, learned to print, learned where I fit in. I might be looking at the past with rose-colored glasses, but I honestly think I looked forward to every day. I loved art school. Every day held new surprises, new riches. I looked through every book in the library, saw every show in the gallery, listened to every visiting speaker, roved through all the museums and galleries of D.C. as if it had all been put there for me. All of it was just what I wanted to be doing. I stayed as long as they let me and graduated with a BFA. It was a marvelous time.

I'll write more when I can, but it's past sunset on Monday and I promised a post on Mondays, so I've got to be good and get this up. Anyway, our little six-person Zoom meetup yesterday might not have been a typical one, but for me it was everything a college reunion should be. And then some. Such a nice time. Big thanks and solidarność to Pam, Jay, Sarah, Ian, and Karen. May we meet again.

Mike

P.S. And by the way, we challenged each other to get the old cameras out of mothballs and shoot a roll of film before our next meetup. I'm in.

Book o' the Week

  Friedlander First Fifty. A very fun little book that gives a tour of the first fifty of Lee Friedlander's books—extra copies of which are apparently stashed all over every floor of his house. By his grandson, who is trying to sell full, signed sets on eBay. This is very enjoyable, but also might be the most unique book about photobooks ever. Who else has published fifty photobooks?

This is a link to Amazon from TOP. The following logo is also a link:

Original contents copyright 2020 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved. Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

(To see all the comments, click on the "Comments" link below.)
Featured Comments from:

Frank Gorga: "In my estimation, the value of caring, informed feedback/critique from a group of friends cannot be overestimated in the 'art life.' Too many photographers work in isolation. To me making photographs is a more-or-less solitary endeavor. However, on the other hand, we need feedback in order to do our best work.

"I belong to a group or a dozen accomplished photographers who get together once a month to share prints, gather feedback and 'talk photography' in general. I am always amazed at how little of the talk is about cameras, printers, etc. Most of the discussion is rather deeper than that. The group formed organically five years ago with three of us asking other acquaintances to join us over the subsequent months. I can not overstate the value of this group of friends to my growth as a photographer."

Zack S: "Speaking of seeing the best bands, I saw the Doors play the longest set they ever performed, at Cobo Arena in Detroit. Also saw Springsteen for the Born to Run tour and Pink Floyd do the Dark Side of the Moon tour there too. I saw Bob Seger play in a small bar long before he hit it big. Worked security for a show that John Lee Hooker was doing and just he and I sat around talking for about an hour."

Mike replies: Dan's T-shirt rests its case. My friend Kim K. (Corcoran '86) saw Led Zeppelin when they were an opening act. He saw Hendrix live, too. (Plus about 1,800 other bands—I picked that number out of a hat, but he's been a dedicated concertgoer for decades. He's responsible for about half of my own live-music experiences. The real number of concerts he's seen is probably more than that.)

John Robison: "What a great post. Agree with Dave Millier, post these type of remembrances more often. Your happiness just spills all over the page and is heartwarming."

Ron Hoffer: "So glad you could get together with such a nurturing group of Corcoran alumnae. As a former (and somewhat jaded) NYC native who moved to DC for work in the late 1970s, for decades I was delighted to experience, at lunch and in the early evening, the quality and approachability of the Corcoran exhibits and the so memorable pubic presentations by photographers from far and wide. A cherished photo book still in my collection is the slim catalogue from an incredible exhibit 'Washington Photography: Images of the Eighties' held in early 1982 featuring the work of not only Mark Power and Steve Szabo, but other great artists you may have run into Mike, including William Christenberry, Frank DiPerna, John Gossage, John Radcliffe, and Shirley True."

Mike replies: Knew them all to varying degrees except John Radcliffe. Went to NYC with John G., used to hang out with Steve, even. And that show was one of the reasons I went to the Corcoran! I didn't realize then what a great historical moment it was, but man were we lucky. 

Comments

[Albert Smith]

"...And by the way, we challenged each other to get the old cameras out of mothballs and shoot a roll of film before our next meetup. I'm in."

This seem like such an obvious thing for those of us with stacks of world class film cameras collecting dust. I remember when on various forums around 2000, many were predicting the end of film, and many of us with thousands of dollars of Leica, Nikon and other then-pro model film cameras were in denial about how easy it would be to continue with film.

In my local area, I could not buy a roll of film or get it processed for any amount of money. There isnt a single photo shop or film lab within a 100 mile radius of me. Sure would be great to load up the M6 or F3 and take 36 frames for old time sake, but logistically, it ain't happening.

Good luck in your exercise.

[terence morrissey]

Thanks for sharing your story.

[Rod S.]

Nice post, Mike.

[Bill Tyler]

NOT FOR PUBLICATION: Copyediting note: "The Decisive Moment had was..." There are too many verbs in that fragment.

[bill poole]

"And by the way, we challenged each other to get the old cameras out of mothballs and shoot a roll of film before our next meetup. I'm in."

This implies that no one who attended the Zoom is currently working primarily, or even regularly, in film. Makes me sad to hear.

[No, but, rather remarkably, we're all still in the arts or photography or another creative craft after all these years. Three are professional photographers. --Mike]

[Mike Potter]

I'm glad you had a meetup, Mike. Sounds like it may have helped to invigorate you. Hope y'all follow up with the film thing.

[Jez Cunningham]

I imagine your friends follow you here? I’d love to hear their memories of you!

[albert erickson]

Mike, nice post thanks for sharing.

[Dave Millier]

Your autobiographical posts are always so beautifully, eloquently, emotively written. Peerless. You can write more of these if you like, so much more interesting than cameras.

[Rob de Loe]

You were very fortunate Mike. That sounds like a wonderful experience.

I've been thinking a lot about the importance of face-to-face, intensive interaction and the role it plays in pushing us forward in art. There's no substitute (that I've found anyway) in the online world. Not even close.

[David Smith]

Albert Smith (^^^), two words: Mail. Order.

[Steve Rosenblum]

Great post. Glad you were able to reconnect with these old compadres. We had our 50th high school reunion (delayed by a year and changed to outside) a few weeks ago. I didn’t go to the big party but I did go to an outside dinner with some folks. It was great to reconnect. I am older than you, but the hard/weird part was the list of around 50 people who have died, some of whom I also went to college with. Of course, out of a class of >700 that is a natural and predictable thing, but still pretty sad.

[Herman Krieger]

I would like to use Zoom, but I found a bug in the system.

[-et-]

One sentence in your essay reminded me of the "It's a small world" cliche.

My older granddaughter just graduated from Reed in May with an art degree. By chance, her thesis has the distinction of being the first one by a Native American in the Art Department at Reed, so it will always be of note regardless of what future generations may think of its artistic merit. (It is a critique of how mainstream museums treat Native American art.)

FWIW, as an engineer I had never noticed Reed until my granddaughter said that she wanted to go there. I have since been quite impressed with the school, and can see why you chose it years ago.

- Tom -

[Timothy Auger]

I went to a college reunion a couple of years ago and at dinner sat surrounded by the people I had got to know in 1965-1968 and (in most cases) not seen since. It took just a few minutes for the adult identities to be shed, but within a short time all the old dynamics were reestablished: the pushy people were still pushy, the thoughtful people were still thoughtful, and I ended the evening with the sense that over the years people may change, but they don't change fundamentally. And I felt my college friends had been, by and large, well chosen. Maybe it's nostalgia, but I found that very reassuring.

[Robert Roaldi]

There's a short film on Vimeo about this very topic (sort of) "https://vimeo.com/229687375".

[darlene]

I saw Bruce Springsteen open for Fairport Convention. I was probably 15 at the time, but knew Springsteen was gonna be big.

[Jim Arthur]

I saw a shirt at the pub the other day that made me laugh.

CHICKEN POT PIE
Three of my favorite things

[Jeff]

In 1969, a friend and I (while hitchhiking up and down California for the Summer) attended a free Hells Angels benefit concert (for a slain member) at Longshoremen’s Hall in San Francisco, headlined by Grateful Dead. An unknown (to us) local band also played, and we were delighted. It was Santana, who became well known not long after. Those were the days (and not just for music: we found free rooms to stay by friendly locals the whole Summer. Try that now, let alone the hitchhiking.)

Having lived in Maryland/DC area for many years, beginning my photographic journey in 1974 (including collecting prints and books), I’m sure we could talk for hours about similarly shared experiences and contacts.

[Sroyon]

This post makes me happy for three reasons:
1. It's a great post.
2. "I promised a post on Mondays, so I've got to be good and get this up." I think this bodes well for the new TOP schedule (or new new schedule)! I finished my PhD last year, and my supervisor would often remind me not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good. And I read a book about psychology of work which said if possible, it's good to end each day's work with a little bit of juice left in the tank.
3. Mike is gonna shoot film again!

[Alex G.]

For the sake of generational equity, I’m happy to say that I saw
Brainiac, Sonic Youth, the Beastie Boys, Fishbone, Morphine, Sparklehorse, Elliot Smith, REM, and Nirvana. Sadly those performances will never happen again, music is fleeting and you never know when a band will end. The Morphine show I saw was the last one in the US. If you’re not familiar with them, check them out. There’s no doubt that had Mark Sandman been born 10-20 years earlier he would have been a legendary figure. No generation has a lock on creativity and expression and rock shows didn’t end in 1974.

[But dude, those are old bands now! A month or so ago I heard on the Oldies station on the radio that it's the 30th anniversary of "Nevermind." Ad-Rock of the Beastie Boys is not too many years from 60 and lives in a Midcentury-Modern showpiece house in Pasadena. "No Sleep Till Pasadena"?? Hate to break it to you, but you could wear Dan's T-shirt too.... :-) --Mike]

[Stephen McCullough]

"Zack S: "Speaking of seeing the best bands, I saw the Doors play the longest set they ever performed, at Cobo Arena in Detroit. Also saw Springsteen for the Born to Run tour and Pink Floyd do the Dark Side of the Moon tour there too. I saw Bob Seger play in a small bar long before he hit it big. Worked security for a show that John Lee Hooker was doing and just he and I sat around talking for about an hour."

I want to be you.

[Rick Denney]

Hey, one of your old classmates is a friend of mine and my wife's. How cool is that?