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Don't Walk, Red Don't Walk, Red

Excerpt from Light Gesture & Color:

Sometimes as you’re walking you get hit by a color and there’s no turning away.

When I saw this red I knew had I to shoot it.

It was a “stabile,” Alexander Calder’s name for his sculpture that did not move. Most of his stuff did move and moved well. These he called, “mobiles.”

It no longer exists. It was at the corner of the World Trade Center and was demolished on September 11, 2001.

When I saw it it was just the red, nothing else at all. I did what one has to do, I waited and waited…waited…. finally these two men appeared and I probably should have waited longer to try other people, but I had “waited” long enough.

A terrible phrase which implies that something is more important than shooting.

But sometimes you lose focus and that’s not a pun.

From the Favorites collection

What constitutes a favorite is that after seeing it every day for years, it doesn’t lose its power.

I know some photographers who are always quite delighted with everything they do. I wish I was like that, but I find a great many of my images lose their power or at least my interest at some later date. Either I’m not interested in the subject anymore or I’m just no longer impressed with the image.

Arthur Meyerson, a very good Houston, Texas, photographer, is a buddy of mine. At one point he offered me his studio for an exhibit of my images for FotoFest in Houston. This was an exhibit of 85 images. Another friend of mine, Gary Winter, was doing a video on me. He’s one of these guys who doesn’t intrude when he’s shooting—a real “fly on the wall” type—so when he asks a question, it’s a rare occurrence.

“So, Jay,” he said, “What’s the reason you picked these particular 85 pictures for this show?”

“They’re my favorites.”

“I was hoping for something a little more insightful and articulate, ” he replied.

I thought about it and realized after looking at one particular image what was behind my choices. I explained that when I shot “Man with Headband,” I was anxious, even terrified because I knew all the things that could go wrong. It was like a litany: “Please don’t let the light change,” Please don’t let somebody walk in front of him,” “Please don’t let him turn around.” I realized at that point that each and every picture in the show was a variation of this. A moment charged with all the things that move me, and the fear of losing it. The apprehension, the near certainty that something or someone, if not myself, was going to compromise the image.

There is an emotional seesaw on perceiving what you think is a great image. It moves between glee and trepidation. The more excited I am, the better the image, the more naked emotion I feel, the more exhilaration there is, the more it is counterbalanced by the certainty that something is going to f*¢% this up.

This anxiety never happens with pictures that are less compelling or less emotional. It never happens with pictures that are intellectually motivated or studies, or with pictures that are about information, history, or pure documentation.

These favorites have stood the test of time, even though they’re mine they still work for me, and I do love them.

Don't Walk, Red

New York
Kodachrome, 1981

$2,400.00

Edition of 25. Printed on Epson Premium Luster paper.

Pay by credit card, check, or over the phone

Excerpt from Light Gesture & Color:

Sometimes as you’re walking you get hit by a color and there’s no turning away.

When I saw this red I knew had I to shoot it.

It was a “stabile,” Alexander Calder’s name for his sculpture that did not move. Most of his stuff did move and moved well. These he called, “mobiles.”

It no longer exists. It was at the corner of the World Trade Center and was demolished on September 11, 2001.

When I saw it it was just the red, nothing else at all. I did what one has to do, I waited and waited…waited…. finally these two men appeared and I probably should have waited longer to try other people, but I had “waited” long enough.

A terrible phrase which implies that something is more important than shooting.

But sometimes you lose focus and that’s not a pun.

From the Favorites collection

What constitutes a favorite is that after seeing it every day for years, it doesn’t lose its power.

I know some photographers who are always quite delighted with everything they do. I wish I was like that, but I find a great many of my images lose their power or at least my interest at some later date. Either I’m not interested in the subject anymore or I’m just no longer impressed with the image.

Arthur Meyerson, a very good Houston, Texas, photographer, is a buddy of mine. At one point he offered me his studio for an exhibit of my images for FotoFest in Houston. This was an exhibit of 85 images. Another friend of mine, Gary Winter, was doing a video on me. He’s one of these guys who doesn’t intrude when he’s shooting—a real “fly on the wall” type—so when he asks a question, it’s a rare occurrence.

“So, Jay,” he said, “What’s the reason you picked these particular 85 pictures for this show?”

“They’re my favorites.”

“I was hoping for something a little more insightful and articulate, ” he replied.

I thought about it and realized after looking at one particular image what was behind my choices. I explained that when I shot “Man with Headband,” I was anxious, even terrified because I knew all the things that could go wrong. It was like a litany: “Please don’t let the light change,” Please don’t let somebody walk in front of him,” “Please don’t let him turn around.” I realized at that point that each and every picture in the show was a variation of this. A moment charged with all the things that move me, and the fear of losing it. The apprehension, the near certainty that something or someone, if not myself, was going to compromise the image.

There is an emotional seesaw on perceiving what you think is a great image. It moves between glee and trepidation. The more excited I am, the better the image, the more naked emotion I feel, the more exhilaration there is, the more it is counterbalanced by the certainty that something is going to f*¢% this up.

This anxiety never happens with pictures that are less compelling or less emotional. It never happens with pictures that are intellectually motivated or studies, or with pictures that are about information, history, or pure documentation.

These favorites have stood the test of time, even though they’re mine they still work for me, and I do love them.

Paper & Printing

Epson Ultra Premium Luster (13x19)

This paper produces vivid, lifelike images, superior ink coverage, and a high D-Max to ensure high reproduction quality prints. More about the paper...

For shipping , it's placed on backing board inside a clear plastic bag. They are then boxed in  a custom 15x21x3 corrugated box protected inside 3 inches of charcoal foam. More about shipping...

Epson Legacy Baryta (20x30 and 40x60)

Baryta paper has a white, smooth satin finish with the look and feel of the revered silver halide F-surface darkroom papers and provides excellent image permanence. More about the paper...

20x30 prints are shipped flat in MasterPak PrintPak Art Shipping Sleeves. A "container within a container" with multiple layers of protection.

40x60 Paper prints will rolled and shipped in a archival tubeMore about shipping...

Dye-Sublimation onto Aluminum (Metal)

Transferring the print to aluminum produces a vivid, archival quality print that is scratch resistant, doesn’t require glass or framing, and is lightweight and easy to hang. More about the paper...

Metal prints are shipped in a sturdy 44x63x3 crate. More about shipping...