Very early on the morning of my birthday a couple of weeks ago, a not inconsequential one, a between decades one, I walked into Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park in Santa Cruz all alone. For a while I’d been wanting to be somewhere there wasn’t a sight or sound of anything but nature. I got close, there was a well-trod trail, but only the sound of the occasional dropping branch and the birds, warning each other about me.

I’ve been a photographer, from my first job in a black and white darkroom until now for 40 years. I’m always up for another assignment, for all this time they’ve been a sort of narcotic for me, the thrill of going somewhere I’ve never been and photographing someone I’ve never met before. But we can all agree the world has changed so much and our industry along with it. I love to work, I love to take photographs of people, I love to share what I know. I’ve been doing that for the last 18 years, somewhat haphazardly upon request for Art Center College of Design, Los Angeles Center for Photography, and the wonderful place that has given me a home as a teacher, Santa Fe Workshops.

In light of all this, loving new beginnings and believing in ritual and ceremony I told this tree I was going to go all in with teaching going forward. The tree said nothing, I was completely within it, it had survived fires and was said to be between 1400 and 1800 years old, and around 270 feet tall. I was like Chow Mo-wan (played by Tony Leung) in Wong Kar Wai’s In the Mood for Love, who whispers his unspoken secret into a crack in the ancient stone ruins of Angkor Wat in Cambodia, before sealing the crevice with mud and grass. I’m sealing it by posting it on Instagram. Not nearly so romantic, but I trust you with the information.

This is one of my favorite portraits ever, Jodi Foster, at Smashbox Studios, assigned by the great @kathleenclarkphoto at Los Angeles Magazine. I knew I had the cover already and the inside image of Jodi with one of her closest collaborators, her script supervisor, Diane Dreyer (see following images). Sometimes on shoots if there’s time, I’ll grab some 4 x 5 images for myself. My camera is an old Crown Graphic that I have on a tripod, it’s all a bit rickety, but somehow the edge of disaster has often been where my best images have been found, a dangerously slow shutter speeds, in fluky flight. Occasionally, these kind of images have been published and sometimes not, but maybe because of that, I feel like I can be a little bit more rough and ready. This is Jodi on the floor, just inside the open garage doors at Smashbox in daylight only. By the look of her eyes, I’m bouncing some silver cards and white fill in there as well. It’s a far from perfect photo, I managed to amputate a couple of her fingers by not noticing how her hand was, it’s not perfectly sharp. But because of the actress she is, someone that has been in front of the camera’s lens since she was 5 years old, I’ve never photographed anyone that was so completely available to the process, and so completely present. To look through the lens at her was something I’ll never forget.

If you’re interested in how these kinds of images happen, I have workshops coming up for @la_centerofphoto and @santafeworkshops. Please have a look at the links in my bio.

I’ve always loved to photograph people in cars. There’s the romance of cars, of road trips, of private conversations and secrets shared. Someone once described a long talk in a car to me, eyes on the road ahead, two people locked in space, as a “rolling confessional”. And of course for many of us, there’s memories of adolescent love in the only private space available to us.

First car, first sex, first accident, first ticket, first journey across a state border. Tracy and I, bringing three days old baby Will home from hospital, driving so slowly through Griffith Park.

When I look back through my work, and my life, the car is a great through line of art and heart and adventure.

❤️ to all here @misslloren @willsoutham @sw162ty @julia_sublime @mamadish @finn_dish @harperdish @tssalter @keithurban @theoliviajordan

I was so lucky to see Philip Seymour Hoffman, Andrew Garfield and Linda Edmond in Mike Nichols’s revival of Death of a Salesman on Broadway, in 2012, two years before both Hoffman and Nichols passed away.

During the plays run, Mike Nichols said in an interview something I’ve always remembered, “We have Willy Loman; everywhere we look we see, Willy Loman. We are Willy Loman. We’re on Facebook; we need to be known; we’re selling all the time.” This idea of each of us being our own brand on social media, to both productive and destructive ends, has only intensified since then.

But what if the person we’re selling is not actually us? I’ve been thinking about these portraits I took in Las Vegas for a British magazine in 1995, of celebrity impersonators. They were all so invested in their performances, and all so good at what they did. Looking at the images again, I find myself moved by each of their commitments to creating their illusion. Heidi Thompson as Cher was especially amazing because at the Legends show, at the Imperial Palace and Casino, she sang live in a perfect version of the original. I read someone say she sounded more like Cher than Cher. The guys were all part of Frank Marino’s An Evening at La Cage show at the Riviera, where he’d signed a three month contract for a show that ran for 25 years.

In order of appearance,
1. Marilyn (I’m still trying to locate this performers name, if anyone can help me out)
2. Heidi Thompson as Cher @heidiascher
3. Carl Davidson as Madonna
4. Frank Marino as Joan Rivers @thequeenofvegas
5. Marvin Nathan as “Fat Cher”