Friday, May 15, 2020

ONE THOUSAND WORDS.
a pick six

by Hunter Jon

Annie Leibovitz is the first famous photographer I was ever aware of (the second being Diane Arbus). My mother had that book of hers, the one with the infamous Meryl Streep cover, on her bookshelf throughout my whole childhood. It was the last in a row, a flat stack of smaller books following it as a kind of bookend. So I grew up seeing Meryl tugging at her painted white face at least once a day. It always intrigued me, as you can imagine. One day I finally asked what that book was and if I could look at it. I would have been around seven. My mum explained who Leibovitz was and yes, I could. I only knew who a few of the people in it were, but I poured over the pages with extreme delight and interest. I was used to celebrity photographs of the gossip magazine kind, as People and Us could usually be found on the coffee table. But this was something else entirely. It opened my eyes to the idea of photography as an art form and, for better or worse, began an obsession with celebrity portraits. I can’t get enough of them. I mean, photos of anyone or anything have the ability and/or potential to be fascinating, but there’s something about photos of famous people that are so tenfold. For a dozen reasons. Reasons I won’t bother listing because you already know what I mean. Photos of celebrities, especially paparazzi ones, are the commodity they are for a reason. So I know I’m not alone. Although, the red carpet/fashion-driven ones don’t particularly do anything for me, to be honest. Anyway, I loved the Leibovitz book. I would have looked at it everyday if my mum let me, but I was told it was only allowed to be looked at once in a blue moon and I had have to clean, dry hands to do so. So it was a big, exciting deal when that blue moon came around. I would be familiar with a few more people in it each time. Whatever would introduce me to John Irving and the next time I'd open the book there he was in his singlet. I would swear that photo wasn’t there the last time I looked. The last face I learned the identity of is fittingly the last one in the book, that of Peter Tosh. I now have my own book of hers, called ‘At Work’. I only look at it once in a blue moon and make sure my hands are clean and dry when I do. I’ve come to have a pretty divided opinion of Leibovitz’s work, as she’s embraced digital photography, photoshop and airbrushing in a major way. But I do welcome anything she’s done with anticipation, and the stuff that I do like, I like a lot.

Of everything I’ve seen, here are my six favourite photos of hers.

(I’ve included the appropriate amount of honourable mentions)












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