by Robert Adams
I have no idea why it has taken me so long to own a monograph by Robert Adams.
After all, I bought and read rather intensively his book of essays called Why People Photograph many many years ago.
Could it because I had cataloged him erroneously under the section called ‘photographers who are great writer but make boring pictures‘?
Maybe I did. My bad.
I must have collected, under that label, a fair number of landscape photographers, especially if they make mainly black and white pictures.
I don’t think Lee Friedlander or Garry Winogrand were parked there though. But let’s leave that for another day.
Strange that it has taken several photographers I admire – Todd Hido and Gregory Crewdson – to come back to Adams.
The first picture inside this book, of the back of a woman in her living room, has been haunting me since I re-saw it again recently.
On dear, no words are needed here.
But you know why.