Street Photography 1967-1975

In 1966 I finally left for New York to become a photographer. But how? Till then I had been working as a window dresser, in Barcelona, Geneva, and Canada. I’d won prizes for my windows, but I had nothing to show for myself as a photographer. I was 30 years old, an amateur with a Leica round his neck. I knew the names of some fashion photographers from Vogue and Harper’s Bazaar and I copied their studios addresses from the phone book, then walked around Manhattan looking for an assistant job.

I stayed at Kolping House on East 88th Street, an abode for young men without much money. The bar on the corner did soup for 50 cent. I ate there a lot. The city was magnifi cent. At night huge tower blocks transformed into fl oating rectangles of light. Weekends I walked through Manhattan looking for subjects. Only a few blocks away from lavish, modern Midtown you found yourself in dingy yards, with washing strung from one brick wall to another and kids playing ball. The extreme contrast between poor and rich, between the ostentation and the backyards, the speed, the soundscape, the hordes of people streaming from the metro tunnels – all so powerful. And I was nothing. But I have never felt so at home in any other town, except perhaps in Landshut, where I spent my childhood.

I often just stood on a corner and watched people. I was actually much too shy to photograph people. But in New York I got over myself – so many weird individuals, mad hairstyles, out-there hats, fi ne stockings … Everyone was trying to make something of themselves.

Most of my photos from New York exist only on contact sheets. Almost all the pictures shown here come from a period when I couldn’t imagine ever becoming a photographer. I was stingy with film. With many subjects I took just one shot. When I look at my contact sheets from that time, I can see there’s an advantage to that enforced focus.

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Taking pictures in Brooklyn, 1969