subtle that it is more real
I used to have a rule.
I refused to work somewhere unless there was one other person in the building who knew who Alfred Stieglitz was.
This changed from a rule to a hope.
Then it changed to a wish.
I will ask co-workers from time to time if they had ever heard of Alfred Stieglitz.
I try to stay away from mentioning his wife, Georgia O’Keefe.
I do this for two reasons.
One is that I want the person to really be acquainted with Stieglitz for himself and not for his wife.
The other is that I am afraid that I would be doubly disappointed if the person had not heard of Georgia O’Keeffe.
But there it is.
I was thinking of Mr. Steiglitz today.
It was raining here is Georgia and the streets and rain slicked and wet.
When I see rain slicked, wet streets I think of the photograph, A Wet Day on the Boulevard, Paris – 1894 taken by Mr. Steiglitz.
The rain and the wet in the photograph are more real than real.
A subtle reality more real than reality.
It was Mr. Steiglitz who said, “In photography there is a reality so subtle that it becomes more real than reality.”
Beyond photograph, in this covid impacted life, reality itself has become so distant, so subtle that I begin to doubt reality.
How did this happen.
Maybe it’s more real in black and white.
Wikipedia says, “Reality is the sum or aggregate of all that is real or existent within a system, as opposed to that which is only imaginary.”
Well, what if I can only imagine reality.
Does that make it less real?
Look at the photograph again.
Then look at again,
Truly, in this photograph, there is a reality so subtle that it becomes more real than reality.