This is my father’s father, from a large photo-portrait taken when he was twelve, about two years after his arrival in this country. Since to a surprising degree this picture shows the way I think, I might attempt more of these strange collages.
[click to enlarge]
Updates:
“Papa, 1908” added to Penny Thoughts and Photographs.
In the Forum: a poem by Francine Witte.
7 comments:
I like it. The reflections give him the context of his descendants.
Great image! It brings to mind Wright Morris's photography in The Inhabitants and Home Place—not in details of the image but in its mood, its brooding on the past....
Das ist dir gelungen...
und - deine Seite gefällt mir sehr. ich komme wieder...
alles liebe, Rachel
At this straight picture I hear MY FATHERS EYES from Eric Clapton; GREAT!
Thanks, Jean. And looking at it now, I think the color in those reflections is partly responsible for that effect.
Joe, I must say, my grandfather was very much at home in those Morris settings. Come to think of it, I myself prefer petrified barns and outhouses over a lot of architecture.
Rachel, thanks for your visits and your kind words. It’s nice of you to say.
Rudhi, always a perceptive comment: some poems are pictures, some pictures are songs, and some are so many things in between....
He looks Russian to me. Very fine features, but full face.
Yes, Gramp did have fine features, and very fair skin. He grew up speaking Armenian and Turkish, but learned English so well that he didn’t have an accent. And yet he liked to say “Rooshan” instead of the way we usually pronounce “Russian.”
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