I thought it only appropriate, given the terrible circumstances surrounding this overwhelmed, under appreciated, decimated country, that I spend this week talking about my experiences there as a young man. I had the good fortune to live in Jacmel, Haiti for a number of months almost 30 years ago. Still till this day, it remains not as a source of dispair for me, but rather an experience of triumph and perseverance. I loved Haiti and its people. I did not go there to change the world (it was way beyond my means and my abilities), but rather selfishly to find strength. I did not feel pity for the Haitians, but rather felt admiration. There are many stories of Haiti I may tell you as time goes on, but today I want to address a particular issue I mentioned last week. This takes me back to the U.S., particularly Chicago, about 15 years ago. I was in Chicago with my wife, who is a graphic designer in New York City, where she was the head judge for a competition. She asked me if I would photograph the judges for a small brochure they would produce for the winners of this competition. Basically, she was requesting simple, unenamored portraits, quickly done. I remember shooting these pictures in the hotel room with my Leica, with the window as a light source. There were no lights, no assistants, but done rather simply as I did at that time. It was simply the subject and me. I think that there were 4 or 5 portraits, and when I arrived to photograph one of the judges, (the one filled with the most bravado), I remember his comment rather disdainfully, that anyone could do this, implying that there was nothing new or original to this work, and it was surprising that anyone would pay for my services. I remember wanting to punch him out, but instead of hitting him, I took the challenge... I said to him as I photographed another judge, to stand right beside me and use my camera and take a picture immediately (within a few seconds), after I did. Unfortunately, I no longer have that roll of film, but I remember that if you looked at the contact sheet, you would immediately notice the few frames he shot. Although they were in the same spot, with the same camera and lens, taken just seconds apart from mine, they look nothing like my pictures. To me, they missed on every level. Although he was correct, that these pictures were simple "head shots," and were made very simply, the onus then is on the photographer, rather than the technique and the equipment. It's as simple and toned down as possible. It is straight on, face-to-face. The ultimate question in this type of work is: How vulnerable are you willing to be? People expect a great deal from their subjects, you must be able to meet them straight on, with equal intensity and openness. Rembrandt once…

Through the years, this has become one of my most popular and well known photographs. People have often seemed to gravitate towards it. I wonder why? As I have often mentioned, my methodology for making good pictures seems to rely often on spontaneity and good fortune. This picture was made in Maryland some years ago. We were on our way to a predetermined location very early in the morning. I was looking out of the window of the location van when I noticed this field with hay bales on it. I immediately called out for the driver to stop the van, and asked one of the assistants to knock on the door of the farm house across the street to ask permission to take a photograph in the field. Luckily, the farmer was in, and graciously gave his permission to photograph in the field. Without delay, I asked the stylist to quickly dress Don, one of the models, and off we went into the field. I could feel the client and the art director's annoyance, that we had unexpectedly stopped at this location. This was not part of the itinerary, and to them was probably a waste of time and money. We quickly went to one of the hay bales, and I asked Don to get on top of it. He did, and then I said, "Jump up, and spread your feet as if you're leaping." This whole process could not have taken more than five minutes. We returned to the van, and continued on our way down the road to our final location. Most people today seem to automatically assume that this picture has been altered, that Don has somehow been superimposed into this scene, or rather it is a composite of two or more pictures. In fact, it was shot in camera, in one frame, but... like altering a photograph in post-production, I was deliberately playing with your normal perception of reality. The fact that this was done without post-production is important to me, but is it important to you? In Lawrence Durrell's Alexandria Quartet, a particular moment in time and certain characters are perceived by four different people in Alexandria, Egypt. When you read Justine's version (the first book in the quartet), you are fairly confident that you understand the circumstances, and grasp a true sense of what is real. By the last volume, as you have reexamined the same reality from four different perspectives, you are not sure what is real, or in fact if anybody has enough perception to see anything in its entirety. We see things with bias, from our own point of view. It is hard, if not impossible, to disavow our biases. On the other hand, why would we want to? If we did, we might as well become scientists. This picture of Don jumping over the hay bale is a reflection of my perspective on life, on reality, and its effect on people. If you were to stand right beside me…

My fingers are still frozen together from my shoot last week in the forsaken crevices of the deep, deep South of the US. I returned yesterday, and despite five hours of intensive saunaing, they are still unmoveable. I promise by tomorrow morning I should be able to return full steam ahead to the continued adventures of The End Starts Here. Please forgive. All is well. Until tomorrow.

I think what comes to mind when I look at this picture is the Platonic notion of what is real. This really wouldn't have been as complicated an issue 10 to 15 years ago, but today photographs are not even accepted as admissible evidence in a courtroom. There is an almost universal assumption today that a photograph has been altered in some way. Firstly, I think it's important to realize, that by its very nature, a two-dimensional piece of paper is an an alteration of a three-dimensional world. A world that we (society) accepts as filled with dimension, time, space, senses, has been translated and transferred to a flat, static, two-dimensional piece of paper. This notion reminds me of one of my favorite anecdotes: One afternoon in Paris, a man walks up to Picasso and asks him why he paints the way he does. Picasso replays that he does not understand the question. The man opens his wallet and takes out a family portrait where the people are depicted in a traditional manner. Picasso replys to the man "You mean I should paint people thin and flat?" Many of the photographs in this book represent, in small fashion, the notion of what is real and not. They are an attempt visually to play, and not necessarily accept reality as we traditionally accept it. My photographs are often my attempt to come to grips, to accept or not, to enjoy or reject acceptable notions of reality. As one confronts, participates, or co-creates in this world, I have searched its limits and found...? As pertains particularly to this picture, I have enough awe, wonder, and confusion in the world as it is, to visually leave it alone. I do not retouch or alter any of the pictures. What you see is 95% what was there. The fun is to play with the making of the picture, rather than its alteration. This was simply a lucky moment in a generally lucky day. Sometimes I am not so lucky. I am often chasing things... light, locations, time, etc. For once, I was able to get to the right place at the right time.