17/31 Allen Ginsberg, фотографии 1984 —1993 Аллен Гинзберг известен прежде всего как поэт, один из лидеров движения битников. Но кроме этого, он много фотографировал, и сегодня посмотрим именно его снимки. В 50-60-е Гинзберг снимал друзей (Джека Керуака, Уильяма Берроуза и др.) на дешевый фотоаппарат. Это прямолинейные, честные и точные портреты, смотреть которые — большое удовольствие. Спустя 20 лет Гинзберг продолжил снимать, теперь уже, по совету Роберта Франка, с которым дружил, на камеру лучшего качества. С 80-х добавил к отпечаткам простые подписи от руки. Искала фотографии Франка, но случайно нашла эту поэтичную серию из окна кухни Гинзберга. Откройте превьюшки и поразглядывайте! Такое сильное чувство присутствия, соучастия, течения времени. А ниже тексты, для тех, кто хочет прочитать подписи: I sat for decades at morning breakfast tea looking out my kitchen window, one day recognized my own world the familiar backyard, a giant wet brick-walled undersea Atlantis garden, waving ailanthus (“stinkweed”) “Trees of Heaven,” with chimney pots along Avenue A topped by Stuyvesant Town apartments’ upper floors two blocks distant on 14th Street, I focus’d on the raindrops along the clothesline. “Things are symbols of themselves,” said Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche. New York City August 18, 1984 Allen Ginsberg “. . . dreaming out the window eat my gruel / as ailanthus trees bud & grow thick green, seaweed in rainy Atlantis, / lose leaves after snowfall, sit bare branched in January’s rusty winds? / Snap photographs focus’d on the clothesline, courtyard chimneypots a block away?” See “May Days 1988,” Cosmopolitan Greetings book. Here new buds of May, raindrops on the clothesline, the picture taken four days after poem was written. Lower East Side N.Y. May 7, 1988. Allen Ginsberg I got conscious of my kitchen breakfast-table window backyard’s seasons’ daily view, here morning snow-dropped window-sill, white roofed tool-shed, bare branched “trees of Heaven” (ailanthus), fences & fire-escapes lined with snow, N.Y. Times January 23, 1987. Allen Ginsberg Kitchen window later afternoon January 23, 1987, snow melted on the sill, I never met Bill Rizzo. 1987 Allen Ginsberg Out my New York kitchen window December 3, 1987, bare leaves, year end. 1987 Allen Ginsberg Watching out my kitchen table window for five years now, first leaves on ailanthus trees, rainy day strong wind—I’d snapped photos nearly every week watching the seasons change—here May 18, 1989 from East 12th Street, Lower East Side Manhattan. 1989 Allen Ginsberg Midsummer leafage on Ailanthus Trees & backyard bushes in slight breeze, looks like 68°, guests had brought sunflowers the night before, gay club news on windowsill, I’d looked out my kitchen window with camera weekly almost a decade now, the garden courtyard cleaned and swept neat, East 12th street lower East Side Manhattan June 6, 1993. Allen Ginsberg