dawoud bey & carrie mae weems in dialogue

Do you think I could be a photographer?” she asked, holding her Leica camera in her hand. One of them, a seemingly shy woman with big expressive eyes, introduced herself, “Hi, my name is Carrie. On the first day of class a few students straggled in. When Frank Stewart, the museum’s staff photographer and photo teacher, left to do a commissioned project in Cuba, Janet called me and asked if I would take over the class. The artist Janet Henry, who was from the same Jamaica, Queens neighborhood that I lived in, had gotten a job in the Education Department at the Studio Museum in Harlem, then located above a Kentucky Fried Chicken on 125th Street and Fifth Avenue in a large second floor loft space. From looking at photographs in books and magazines and going to exhibitions of pictures by Mike Disfarmer at MoMA, Richard Avedon at Marlborough, and haunting whatever other places there were to see photographs in New York in the early 1970s, I had begun to educate myself, with the intent of adding something to the conversation through my own pictures. I had certainly been looking at a lot more photographs than I had actually made. In 1976 I had been making photographs for a couple of years. Pep Talk and The New Anonymousby Brian McMullen Saïd Sayrafiezadeh's When Skateboards Will Be Freeby Lena Valencia Phillip Lopate's Notes on Sontagby Jonathan LethemĬharles Reznikoff's By the Waters of Manhattanby Betsy Sussler Sun City Girls: Singles Volumes 1 & 2by Corey D'Augustine Two Books on Graffitiby Matthew Aaron Goodman Secret Identity: The Fetish Art of Superman's Co-Creator Joe Shusterby Shoshana Shmuluvitzĭaniel Kane's We Saw the Light: Conversations Between the New American Cinema and Poetryby Abigail Child This Is The House That Horse Builtby Colum McCann The Bar On Tompkins Square Parkby Frederic Tuten Nature Theater of Oklahomaby Young Jean Lee

Dawoud bey & carrie mae weems in dialogue