“I look at the pictures I have done up to now and they make me feel that who we are and how we feel and what is to become of us just doesn’t matter. Our aspirations and successes have been cheap and petty. I read the newspapers, the columnists, some books, I look at some magazines (our press). They all deal in illusions and fantasies. I can only conclude that we have lost ourselves, and that the bomb may finish the job permanently, and it just doesn’t matter, we have not loved life.”
Winogrand, one of my favorite photographers, wrote the above in the wake of the assassination of JFK, and in the midst of the Vietnam War and the Civil Rights Movement.
I was able to take in “Garry Winogrand: Color,” an exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum (through while I was in NY last November.
And I realized all over again: what made Winogrand great is that he DID love life.