A Cartier-Bresson documentary.

To wile away a couple of hours being shown his pictures by the great man himself is one of the better things to do with your time.

The documentary is called Henri Cartier-Bresson – The Impassioned Eye and is an orgy of HCB’s pictures, with many interesting tidbits on what was happening at the moment he pressed the button. I am struck again by how special his early (1930s) surrealist vision really was. It’s something which faded over time making his newer pictures mundane by comparison.

If there’s an error it’s the credit for his greatest picture – the man jumping over the puddle. It’s not a 1950s effort – it dates from 1932 and was taken during a time when his vision would forever make Henri Cartier-Bresson the most renowned photographer this world will ever know. And when you listen to the stories behind the pictures of Chanel or Bonnard or the Curies, all will be forgiven.

Highly recommended.

A true modernist.

A reader dropped me a note about a fine slide show profiling the fashion photography of the great American photographer Edward Steichen. Click the picture to view.

Martha Graham by Edward Steichen, 1931

These pictures are from the Conde Nast library and are just as striking today as they must have been 80 years ago.

It will get better, despite the government.

It seems more than appropriate to share a depression era photograph of Norma Shearer, by the great Cecil Beaton, at a time when America is leading the world into a massive depression, one likely to compete with the Big One for the worst ever.

The coming depression is a good thing, contrary to what our ‘business as usual’ leaders tell us. America is over-levered, over-retailed, over-car’d, over-banked, over-housed, over-medicated, over-lawyered and over-fed. We need a large percentage of the related businesses to fail, bringing down inflation and encouraging savings and capital formation. Because, sure as hell, if you don’t provide for yourself you know the government will not. And I can assure you that no conceivable form of government stimulus will fix what ails us until a broad swath of bankruptcies cleans the Augean stables known as American Retail and Residential Housing. Face it – most people are designed to rent, not own. And no one needs a new iPod.

So enjoy the picture, look forward to going to the movies for $1.50 (it’s called Netflix and you don’t have to drive your foul SUV to see one), forget the vacations (you have had too many as it is) and save your money. You are going to need it.

Greek classicism.

Vionnet dress with ruffle skirt, 1934

Take the Greek classicism of the great French dressmaker Madeleine Vionnet (1876-1975) and marry it to the no less classical photography of George Hoyningen-Huene and you have a timeless combination of life and art. So it hardly needs adding that the best gift this Christmas brought along was Betty Kirke’s definitive book Vionnet which my grandparent’s gave me this past December 25th.

Not only an orgy of photography by Hoyningen-Huene, Penn, Steichen, Beaton, Horst and other greats, this very large format book includes detailed patterns for many of the seemingly simple, yet highly skilled, creations of this greatest of clothes designers.

War photographer.

It is appropriate that this fine documentary is introduced by that other famous lover of danger, CNN reporter Christiane Amanpour. For decades now James Nachtwey has found it impossible to stay away from conflict. Where most of us are happy reading the Sunday cartoons, Nachtwey is risking his life at the frontlines of whatever conflict ails the world on any given day. As he sadly explains, he is not about to run out of photographic opportunities.

Nachtwey comes over as a compassionate, caring individual who manages to establish close rapport with his subjects, allowing him that special close-up perspective which distinguishes his pictures. Appropriately, the documentary starts with Robert Capa’s famous dictum “If your photos aren’t good enough, you are not close enough”. Nachtwey is always close to the action.

One remarkable aspect of this piece is that Nachtwey uses a video camera – perched on his shoulder, I would guess – while taking his stills, so that you get pretty much the photographer’s view of the action, right down to the LCD panel atop his camera. It’s a little disconcerting how intrusive that seems but once you hear Nachtwey explain how he works with his subjects – and why he seems invisible to them – you understand.

This is a fine documentary but be warned that many of the pictures are very, vary hard to stomach, so if you get queasy at the sight of war pictures you should really avoid this film.

Nachtwey is showing the world what it chooses not to see. Gripping viewing.