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KM Koystal. National Geographic, Washington DC. 2004

Don't know why I've been into collections of photography recently, maybe I'm blending my love of lit with my love of movies, but photography is simply one still frame without dialogue and a story without words, and so must be taken in its own context, which I will confess I don't have the artistic license to judge with any competency, but I'll simply say this about this book:

It's got some nice pictures and it certainly shows a diverse style of homes, and even tries to bring the homes that "used to be" and show us how some of those styles "still are" but I couldn't really get away from the obvious overtones that the United States has the quote-unquote "best" houses, while the rest of the world lives in hovels.

Basically, I'd like to see a book of photos that shows the obscenely wealthy sipping wine in their mansions in Guatemala, and on the next page a picture of a family in rags living under an icy bridge in Detroit, Michigan, because we are always, always inundated with the converse,

and frankly, I'm tired of it. I already KNOW that we here in the US are gluttonously wealthy and should smack our own fat little faces for it and I already KNOW that 75% of the rest of the world is starving to death with flies in their mouths, but for once I'd like to see a picture of the AFFLUENT in Saudi Arabia, or Venezuela, and compare that with the homeless shelters in Seattle, or the 12-member-family in the one-room shack in the deep woods, West Virginia.

Geez, just once!

OK, ranting's over . . . books got some cool pics, as far as pictures go.

VG

Chic Simple: Desk

Kim Johnson Gross and Jeff Stone. Alfred A Knopf, 1994

Little books like this series simply make you want the job that these guys have: to put together slick little pictures with pithy quotes in a stylish non-sequitor for your daily life, and then be able to publish it and sell a book that's no bigger than your hand for $12.95.

This series is incredibly cool while all the while being completely superfluous to your existence. But I can't help it - they're so damn cool!!

Plus, I love the little history they have of the desk - this one even included a history of paper and the origins of the word "credenza" (apparently it comes from the Italian word "to trust" - and people used to sign important documents on a desk of the same name, "trusting" in whatever they were signing, or something along those lines!)

Neat.

VG

Atget Paris

I thought by the title it would be a travel guide, as in "at get" Paris, sort of a corruption of "get at" Paris, but it was a thick book and I figured it might have some decent pics in it, and

my goodness - this is a must for anybody's collection. In fact, I've half a mind to disappear it from the library, even against my fanatical convictions . . .

Atget is the name of the man, and following my scant memory of my highschool French, I suppose a close approximation would be "Ah-zhay" . . . the book is "presented" by Laure Beaumont-Maillet ("presented" I suppose, means, "edited" or "compiled") and it's published by Hazan, (in France), 1992.

A brief introduction to Atget and his work, which is considerable, and if you love Paris (or even if you just think you do) and if you love photography, or even merely a lover of history, you must have this book for your collection. It's 800 pages of photographs from the start of the twentieth century through the 1920's - of buildings and fences and streets of Paris, a Paris that no longer exists, a Paris that has been swallowed whole by the cabaretic lights of the Ferris wheel and the gilded pyramids and twentieth century neon lights. This is a quiet, staid, stoic, yet still noble Paris. This is the Paris that Sherlock Holmes would have walked had he ever taken the ferry across the Channel. This is the Paris where you can still sense the Hunchback lurking behind some gritty streetcorner. This is the Paris where Henri Murger died at the age of 46 from decades of caffeine poisining, after all his beautiful Bohemians died poignantly and tragically to sacrifice themselves for the art of a Puccini opera. This is the Paris that you really want to travel. Dark and dreary, staid and poignant. This is essential to dreaming.

Whoever Atget was, he really and truly captured the moment. Most of these pictures do not have captions, other than a simple name and a date, but you can tell that they meant something to this man. And more importantly to him individually, what he left for us in these photos is a record of one of the world's most magnificent cities in a specific period of time that will never be seen again. There will always be parts of Paris that echo these photos; as in most cities in Europe you can always see the centuries, the millenia, of history that has occurred there - it's written on the walls, imprinted in every single stone.

But for that period, in all its magnificence, is right here, in this book.

A moment treasured.

VG