Rocker

Date: May 18, 2007
Place: San Mateo Drive, San Bruno, CA
Modus operandi: Waiting for my son’s swimming lesson to end
Weather: Cold and windy
Time: 1:32 pm
Gear: Panasonic Lumix LX1
Medium: Digital, processed in Aperture, ISO 80, 1/640, f/2.8
Me: Always on the lookout for mystery on the street
My age: 55

Our son, aged five, loves the water and is becoming a competent swimmer in no small part thanks to the lessons he is taking at a swimming place in San Bruno in the San Francisco Bay Area. While he practises his dives I make it a habit to walk around this colorful area, pretty much assured of some bit of magic on the streets. Ethnic food stores (would you believe a Fijian food store?) abound and the scrappy, immigrant nature of the area is thrilling photographically.

I could not help but being struck by the mystery of this scene and the lovely little Lumix came through, aided in no small part by the widescreen image format native to this fine camera.

Bergie’s

Date: 1984
Place: Fifth Avenue and 58th Street, New York City
Modus operandi: Looking at store windows
Weather: Gorgeous
Time: 11:00 am
Gear: Pentax ME Super, 28mm Takumar
Medium: Kodachrome 64
Me: Gorgeous location, superb architecture, the poshest store in New York – what could be better?
My age: 33

For many years two of the finest women’s clothing stores in mid-town Manhattan were catty corner (English translation: Diagonally opposite) one another on Fifth Avenue: Bonwit Teller at 56th Street and Bergorf Goodman at 57th.

Bonwit’s no longer exists, pulled down in the middle of the night in 1981, before the City could place a restraining order on him, by that crass vulgarian, Donald Trump. With it went those gorgeous sandstone friezes that decorated the facade. In its place we got the gauche Trump Tower, replete with glitz to attract Eurotrash.

Bergie’s (no one calls it Bergorf Goodman), on the other hand, survived, and thrives on The Ladies who Lunch to this day.

I could never pass either store on my walk to work from my luxury high rise apartment (meaning infested rat trap) on 56th at Eighth, to what was then the Citicorp Center on Lex and 53rd, without stopping to gaze in their windows. And what windows they were! Never less than perfectly arranged, the best of European designers’ work was to be found there. St. Laurent, Givenchy, Ungaro, Marc Bohan (then at Dior). No, not Tommy Hilfiger. The polyester set could shop elsewhere.

This particular day I had detoured north of 57th and was making my way west along 58th Street, a rather mysterious passageway betwen Bergies and The Plaza, with that nice cinema near Fifth which remains there today. Having long been fascinated with the great school of 1930s American high rise architecture – perhaps best seen in Chicago – I was really looking forward to eyeing the Pierre and the Sherry-Netherland, in much the same way that one might a beautiful woman. Much to look at and dwell upon. A feast for the eyes and senses. A corner here, a bit of mystery there, never has architecture been so much fun.

Just before turning right on Fifth I glanced up at Bergie’s window, the one fronting onto 58th Street and there they were – the two grand hotels of New York City. But the real magic happened when those two ladies joined the reflection in Bergie’s window.

Can you say ‘click’?

Note: On this occasion I was using my ‘disposable’ Pentax ME Super rather than the M3. New York streets were seriously dangerous at this time and the theft of the cheap Pentax would not stir the soul as deeply as were I to lose my precious Leica. In the event, that preciously engineered and very compact Pentax turned out to be a wonderful street worker during my New York years (1981-87), only finally moving on when the LEDs in the viewfinder started to play up. Needless to add, it was never stolen.

Keep Left

Date: 1982
Place: Lexington Avenue, New York City
Modus operandi: Wandering around the streets aimlessly
Weather: Gorgeous
Time: 10:00 am
Gear: Leicaflex SL, 21mm Auper-Angulon R
Medium: Kodachrome 64
Me: Enjoying this little bit of whimsy
My age: 31

Until modern Western quality control techniques were imposed, you could pretty much bet that anything from China was going to be schlocky when it came to execution. And that didn’t just go for their consumer goods. The Chinese applied the same low standards to their businesses and buildings, as this snap attests.

All of this is made so much the funnier when I relate that, at the time I took this, the newly opened representative office of the Bank of China in New York was a client of mine. I was advising them on installation of financial management systems which was sort of tricky when their default approach was to stuff the branch full of Chinese workers who spoke no English and showed remarkable facility with the abacus. Who needs IBM mainframes?

Anyway, after struggling with this insanely frustrating client for months (these people redefined, in 1982, resistance to change, and just hated to pay their bills) I felt I owed them one, and here it is. The missing letter in their cheap signage had been like that for ages, though I constantly pointed it out to the manager of the office. As you can see, the Chinese’ sense of style and decorum leaves a lot to be desired.

Only a very wide angle lens could capture all of this scene’s elements, and the 21mm Super Angulon R, for all its ridiculous bulk, was as good as they got in those days. The Leicaflex SL remains at the zenith of mechanical SLR design, with easily the best manual exposure meter I have used. It remains a fine and affordable user for those who like film, and comes with the best viewfinder you will find on any SLR, film or digital.