Cartier-Bresson and Me: Part 2

First was the myth that Cartier-Bresson was “invisible”. He was said to move among his subjects unnoticed. Also, he fiercely protected his anonymity, refusing to have his portrait published. I prowled library stacks, looking in periodicals, hoping to find a likeness of him. Every photo I found of him was either taken from behind or with his camera blocking his face. Once I dreamed I saw him from a distance and ran to look him in the face, but when I got there his face was blank—no features, just a blank.

When Cartier-Bresson began photographing in the 1930’s the 35mm single-lens reflex (SLR) camera with its built-in light meter was a thing of the future. He used a Leica range-finder 35 mm camera. Even when the SLR appeared in the late 1940’s he eschewed this type of camera as being clumsy, conspicuous and noisy. Throughout his life he embraced the ascetic Leica—no light meter, only a rangefinder for focusing. It was the photographer’s job to judge the light and set the exposure by hand; to know the depth of field for the chosen aperture; and to focus. And the film? High speed black and white, e.g. Kodak Tri-X (ASA 400). 

In the time (1967-68) when I first became fixated on HC-B my only camera was a Kodak Instamatic. One winter day I looked out the window of the rented farmhouse where I lived and saw the late afternoon light streaming across a cluster of abandoned antique farming machines. The light cast long shadows on a field of virginal snow. I took my Kodak and stepped outside to catch this small miracle.

FarmMachinery_small

When my snapshots came back in the mail from Eastman Kodak I knew I had made something special. 

“If I had a really good camera I could do even better,” I thought to myself. So, I bought a Nikon F 35mm camera. Soon thereafter, I bought my first Leica, a new M-2, still available in camera shops in spite of the recent introduction of the M-4. The Leica was quiet, compared to the Nikon, having no mirror in the shutter mechanism, just the focal-plane curtains. Shutter speeds faster than 1/30^th of a second had a demur, barely audible zip-sound. Cartier-Bresson, I read, covered the shiny metal body of his Leica with black tape to camouflage it, make it less conspicuous. I followed suit, carefully cutting out spaces for the viewfinder on strips of black electric tape.

[Go on  to Part 3]