I am a camera

This week we saw two photography exhibits, both quite different. The first was in Lexington at the National Heritage Museum, a collection of photography from the Eastman Collection. Americana, mostly, perhaps a little sentimental, but good, inspiring photos, lots of black and white, with a few (mostly advertising shots, a jarring intermingling) in color. In another room photographs of musicians, composers, directors, and movers and shakers of the music world adorned the walls. Some excellent character studies, from Leonard Bernstein and Aaron Copeland to Satchmo and Bob Dylan.

Yesterday we took a trip to the Worcester Art Museum, a jewelbox close to midtown Worcester, in case you haven't been there. Here was an exhibit of the photographs of Stephen Shore. He was a native New Yorker who as a kid hung around Andy Warhol's studio. As a young man, he took off on a cross-country trip, one of many and created big beautiful color photos of the most pedestrian scenes: parking lots, motel rooms, toilets, his breakfast, pedestrian houses. He saw them all in a new light, and viewing his work caused me a jolt of recognition. His portraits of people are so deep that I felt like I knew these people intimately just from looking at their photographs. Yes, he's that good. Makes you want to grab a camera and run out and look around YOUR town for the most cliched scenes, and capture them in a new full frontal light. I'll bet it's a lot more difficult than it looks. The breakfast (prior post) actually caused us to say to hell with the diet and have some pancakes this morning. I loved the melty butter and the glass of milk and water and the Western motif of the dishes.

If you have an opportunity, pop over to Worcester. By the way, the museum is free on Saturday mornings and the museum cafe provided a very tasty lunch for a small amount of money. Can't get much better than that.

Grapeshot