Photographers and reporters are mostly after me. They want to know what I read and what I'm like and I don't really know myself, so how can I tell them?
While there is perhaps a province in which the photograph can tell us nothing more than what we see with our own eyes, there is another in which it proves to us how little our eyes permit us to see.
I had done a lot of rock 'n' roll photography when I was in college. I was one of many photographers who worked for The Doors, Jefferson Airplane, and all of these rock 'n' roll bands.
I should be getting photographs of me with my arm around these people like restaurant owners do, because eventually I am going to have to prove to my kids that once I was an actor!
The entirety of 'Bellocq's Ophelia' was a project, and I was interested in doing research and looking at photographs and writing about them, imagining this woman Ophelia and what her life was like and the kinds of things she thought about.
Michelle: [showing her breasts posing for Jack's photograph] What? Jack Burridge: [laughing] You're fucking nuts. Carry on. Keep going! Keep going! Keep going!
I'm in the early stages of a film called 'Freezing Time' about Eadweard Muybridge, the Victorian photographer who was really the forefather of cinema. Digital animators still treat his images like the Bible. He was a very obsessed man.
I've learned to suck in my stomach when photographers are around. I used to read gossip magazines all the time, but I stopped when I started being written about in them and read incredible lies about myself.
Everything rational and sensible abandons me when I try to throw out photographs. Time and time again, I hold one over a wastebasket, and then find it impossible to release my fingers and let the picture drop and disappear.
Everyone with a cell phone thinks they're a photographer. Everyone with a laptop thinks they're a journalist. But they have no training, and they have no idea of what we keep to in terms of standards, as in what's far out and what's reality. And they...
Frank: Interesting... almost as interesting as the photographs I saw today. Jane: I was young! I needed the work!
Sidney Kidd: You hate me, I trust, Miss Imbrie. Elizabeth (Liz) Imbrie: No, I-I can't afford to hate anybody. I'm only a photographer.
Photographer: I got your picture man, I got your picture! David Mills: Oh yeah? Detective Mills, M-I-L-L-S, fuck off!
Jon Osterman: I am looking at the stars. They are so far away, and their light takes so long to reach us. All we ever see of stars is their old photographs.
The still image continues to have a ton of strength. An image taken out of context from one fraction of a second to the next can tell a story, and if photographers are looking to tell a certain story, they can curate those slices of time to their adv...
At the beginning of my career, as a boy from Peru in London, suddenly discovering British culture and society, I looked so much at the work of the photographers Cecil Beaton and Norman Parkinson, which seemed to represent a wonderful vanished grandeu...
I love sharing photographs and websites, I'm for all of these things. I'm for Facebook. But to say that this is sociability? We begin to define things in terms of what technology enables and technology allows.
When I worked as a music and fashion photographer, I always had the nagging feeling that there was something missing, that I wasn't using my skills productively. I gave up photography - I walked away from it completely - and started doing care work.
Before adolescence I had an incredible voice. Like when I was 12, 13, 14 - I was taking acting classes, I was painting, I was making music, I was taking photographs. I was kind of exploding creatively, and then something about adolescence really just...
My first big job was an Abercrombie &Fitch campaign. But my mom wouldn't let me skip school for it, so I missed half of the shoot. When we got there, we realized Bruce Weber was the photographer; we knew we had made a mistake!
It is, alas, chiefly the evil emotions that are able to leave their photographs on surrounding scenes and objects and whoever heard of a place haunted by a noble deed, or of beautiful and lovely ghosts revisiting the glimpses of the moon?
