Picture book

Back in the day when I’d hoard every book imaginable (and whatever the allowance – and later disposable income – permitted) from National Bookstore Cut-Price Booksales, I was able to acquire quite a variety of books. There was, of course, fiction, and the basis for selection is not whether it was a title or author I am remotely interested in but whether it was less than a hundred pesos (better if it was less). Quite a number were classics and canonical works. Many of them will surely be never read and is just occupying space in my limited shelves. A number of them have either come in handy for my teaching classes or are rediscovered over time.

A good number of the books I’ve bought from sales or second-hand book shops are art books. Some are books on the lives of visual artists (including reproductions of their major works). Others are on architecture (major New York buildings), even art manifestos (Marinetti’s The Futurist Cookbook).

One of my good finds is a Phaidon 55 series book on the photographer Lisette Model. It’s a square book, around 4”x4” in measurement, with thick paper. It’s a simply-designed book, obviously to emphasize the body of Model’s work. It is accompanied by a useful introduction by the book’s author, a former photography curator at the MoMA.

The book was not a recent buy. It was one of those things which were picked up because it was cheap (50 pesos). Had I accosted it at its regular price (419 pesos), I would’ve moved on to the next shelf.

After finishing Hesse’s Siddharta, I set my sights on the Model book (as it was on the same shelf as Hesse). The cover appeared to have been a victim of my dusty room; two-thirds of the cover was shielded by another book, leaving the last third that’s near the edge exposed to the elements. The corners are not as sharp-looking as it should be. Still, it was a picture book of black and white photographs and Model is an artist worth noting. (After all, she did teach Diane Arbus.)

Some of the pictures I took to the most were the NYC shopping window pieces. The viewer immediately notices that none of the contents of the display window can be seen. The pictures contain things other than the display window and its items. One can see the people viewing the display. One can also see the passers-by. One does take note of the surrounding buildings. All these contribute to what is a rich and layered composition of the window display – minus what is actually on display.

What is quite extraordinary for these window display pictures is that depth is rendered via reflection and things that are not inherently part of it. The unfamiliar onlooker may get a little disoriented at first on what to look at. The point of the picture is gradually revealed and it becomes a rewarding experience.

According to the author, Model’s body of work exemplified the rationale behind photography, which is the capturing of a moment. As such, it was therefore not surprising that Model was not interested with presenting a narrative, a story. Unlike many of her contemporaries, social realism was not for her, though many of her pictures did shed light on the changing fortunes of the bourgeoisie in both Europe and America in the mid-20th century.

As for me, finishing the book immediately felt like ‘Yes, one book from long ago down, many, many more to go.’ Still, the relaxed mood after that varied New Year’s lunch (baked chicken, potato salad made very purple with sugar beets, hot and sour soup and fruit salad) permitted the appreciation of pictures taken of a certain time at a certain juncture in history.