La Macchina Fotografica

Art and great cities have much in common. Of course, by definition, all great cities have great art, but that’s not my point. It is how we behold them that matters. In order to be touched by cities and art we must allow them to become our own. They must enter us, to become part of us.

So often I’ve traveled to magnificent cities and museums in the accompaniment of friends and family. While the company is welcome, it does affect my experience. To know a city one must walk it alone. Really alone. One must find for oneself the hidden alleys and the secret treasures. The sounds and smells and light of a city must be absorbed in utter silence.

Once I was in Venice, a city I adore beyond description, with a dear friend. We were strolling and gabbing and after an hour I realized that I could have been in a shopping mall in New Jersey and had the same experience. I’d missed everything.

One hears tangential conversations in museums as well as foreign cities. People talk about everything but what they are seeing. Why is it so difficult to be truly present? I suspect that only silence allows us to see, hear, touch, and smell. Only utter aloneness opens the soul to certain kinds of profound experiences.

Often I feel the most alone when surrounded by groups of talking people. It is as if we were encased in our own floating bubbles, totally separated from all the other bubbles. This has become more profound with the proliferation of mobile communication and entertainment devices. Now the bubbles are wired.

In any case, one must allow for experiences that move us in private ways. We must give ourselves the space and time to appreciate the things we behold. Talking, entertainment and distraction can be addictions. Be with great art and great cities. Breathe them in as your own.

Related posts:

1. Aloneness and Art Yesterday I just finished designing and developing my new web site. It was an exhausting process that consumed me towards the end. Late in the afternoon, unshaven and bleery-eyed, I uploaded the files to my server and, like wizardry, the site went live. I sat here at my desk and raised my arms in triumph. Save [...]...
2. Staring at a Post I stood at a fence post. On a path near my home. The morning light was like a flood lamp in my studio. At the end of a rare April heat wave, I could feel the radiance on my back and neck. The path is the remnants of an old railroad spur that once connected [...]...
3. Art in a Nervous World The art market, like every other industry in the world, is suffering right now. Galleries, framers, and museums are businesses just like any other. People are scared and nervous and the world seems to be holding its collective breath. Yet, in times like these, art is our salvation. It is the essence of the human [...]...
4. Being Alone Being an artist is a lonely adventure. There are times when the truth about one’s art can only be found in solitude. All the blabbing and chatter that go along with being a social animals gets in the way of seeing. And feeling. The light is in the aloneness which, paradoxically results in the ultimate [...]...
5. Forlorn Facade Old storefronts have always saddened me. I grew up in New Jersey at a time when its cities were in terrible decline. Being in Paterson or Newark in the ’70s would sadden my soul. Empty windows, cracked glass, once-proud signs now askew and burnt out, everything faded except for the hastily posted proclamations: going out [...]...
6. Alien Nation High atop one of the tallest hills in the Marin Headlands is an FAA antenna. Looking like an odd, little silo, it can be seen from quite a distance. As one approaches it, its strangeness emerges. It stands in utter silence, braced against the ocean wind. Surrounded by a gleaming white fence, it is unapproachable. [...]...
7. Our Own Little World One of the best things about cell phones is that I can now talk to myself in public. Not that many years ago it was considered odd to have a conversation with oneself. Now people are talking aloud seemingly no one just about everywhere. True, they usually have some kind of Bluetooth earpiece attached to [...]...
8. Shadowy Friday I have given up mass media. Or at least most of them. The screaming headlines, the mindless banter, the search for the bad in everything—it has put me in sour spirit. I am therefore fasting, something that seems utterly appropriate in this Lenten season. The quiet has turned my attention to walking. Alone. A walk [...]...
9. Doors to Somewhere I was in San Francisco last month making photos while walking around the city. Suddenly a door opened to my right. A person scurried out, obviously having gained momentum before opening her door. She was in a hurry and ran off. That happens often in the city. Doors are so ubiquitous that we take them [...]...
10. Winter Windows Looking through a window during the winter season is so very evocative. Sometimes I’ll walk through the neighborhood at night just to feel the warm glow of light coming out from windows of all the homes. Incandescent light is magical at night, especially in the winter. The days are so short and sun is so [...]...