Tel Aviv Close Encounter of the Second Kind

         1952 - 1969

                                                                                     

It can’t be proven beyond a shadow of a doubt, but while wandering through narrow side streets of a Tel Aviv souk for my first time in 1969, I chanced upon an industrious cobbler I already knew. But that wasn’t possible ….. or was it?

Weeks later back in the States that Tel Aviv Close Encounter still mystified. Fortunately, the intrigue soon ended and the unsettling incident became ‘case closed’. Here’s how … I had liberated a photo anthology titled Israel the Reality from my bookshelf and kicked backed to relax, savor the volume's iconic photos, and reminisce about the trip. Flipping through the pages, I abruptly froze. There he was .... again, still seated and laser focused at his bench, just as he had been when recently spotted! The image was captured by French photographer Izis (Israel Bidermanas) in 1952, seventeen years before my journey. Shoes suspended from the walls in that ’52 photo framed him then just as now. My déjà vu sixth sense while in Tel Aviv had been spot on.

Technology, mass production, and The World is Flat globalization have forever changed the way shoes are made, but repairs are still performed the old fashioned way - one at a time, by hand. So, if just half the shoes hanging in the Izis image needed attention, the déjà vu all over again cobbler could remain fully employed for life. By the way, if you look really carefully, you just might find a pair hanging in its 1952 spot still awaiting a mending touch (Tel Aviv Close Encounter of the Second Kind).

D-Day Remembered

Omaha Beach ~ June 6, 2001

There are moments in everyone’s life during which an experience becomes etched into one’s consciousness, creating a filter through which the world will forever be viewed and personal values forged. For me, standing on the sands of Omaha Beach looking across the English Channel at sunrise on June 6, 2001, the 57th anniversary of D-Day was such a moment.

The mission I had set was to witness and record Normandy’s landing zone to get a better grasp of the immense struggle that took place there when Allied Expeditionary Forces launched Operation Overlord, the greatest land, sea, and air invasion ever. It marked not only the beginning of the end of the war in Europe, it changed the course of history. The after-images I hoped to create could help tell the epic story and inspire others to appreciate the scope of dedication and sacrifices made decades earlier by the Greatest Generation. It was their ultimate success which enables us to enjoy the freedoms we have today. 

The image above is a selection from Return to Normandy, the photo-essay of my efforts to visualize, learn, record, and teach.

fotoVisions

I only have eyes for you

When film was the only image capture medium, I devoted a sizable portion of my photographic artwork to curating collections of images with a common theme. Once satisfied a collection was 'complete' and accepted for exhibition, I made  the prints from negatives, matted and framed them to archival standards, and carefully hung them on the walls for month-long exhibits at selected venues. Personal narratives typically accompanied the images. 

Two of my favorite past exhibits concerned images of basketball hoops encountered during travel (Shooting Hoops ), and the artistry of exterior fire escapes (ESCAPE ART: the urban fire escape). 

So what would happen if I took a new photo to include in one of these 'completed' exhibits, or if I just wanted to write about it and not wait to curate a collection? That's where a web site and this new venture, a Photo-blog  comes in. Once a 'complete exhibit' is posted online, I easily add to it, and I can create a blog post for a new unrelated image or group.

There have been many  additions to my two favorite exhibits since each was last on view in a public gallery. I remain fascinated by these themes and continued opportunities the they afford to present the ordinary as extraordinary. 

My inaugural blog concerns Shoes. They play an important role in my family history. Their images intrigue me and frequently trigger thoughts I want to record. 
Stay tuned.

Treppe

        

Treppe. They were as simple as simple could be - soles hewn of wood with arched ‘Kevlar-tough’ leather hide nailed on top. They were closed or open in the back. Some extended high to ankle or knee. Each week farmers traveled from the outlying countryside to the bustling marketplace of Dabie, a town northwest of the big city Lodz in central Poland to shop for these and other fieldwork essentials.

Treppe from Israel Grünfeld’s kiosk were regularly sought after for their craftsmanship as well as durability. This appreciation of quality did not go unnoticed by Israel's son Joseph, my father, who fully embraced the handwork standards set by his father.

Israel Grünfeld, the grandfather I never knew, began a tradition of craftsmanship with the bar set high. His children adhered to that standard. It remains a model for the generations which followed him.