Cartier Bresson dies and I get drunk
Yesterday, one of the world’s greatest photographers, Henri Cartier-Bresson, died.
I’ve long been a fan of his incredible photos which have both inspired and depressed me. ‘Inspired’ because of the amazing composition, spontaneity and style and ‘depressed’ because they’re so fucking good!
He used no flash, no tripod, no wideangle lens, no zoom lens and no cropping. And all the photos were taken on a Leica rangefinder camera (covered in black tape to make it less obtrusive).
Whenever I start to think I’ve got the hang of this reportage photography thang, a quick flick through one of his books brings me right down to earth.
I may be slowly acquiring a flotilla of fancy lens, but he was a genius and I’m still a fumbling wannabe with a lot to learn…
Still, I managed to toast the fella many, many times last night with an alcoholic fuelled evening at the Albert and the Dogstar.
And now my head hurts….
Related posts:
St Patrick’s night in Brixton – ceilidhs, Sambucas, ales and a massive hangover
Batman, a high-rise unicyclist and an alcoholic confession: scenes around Trafalgar Square, London
Chris Ware: Simultaneously inspired and depressed!
King Hangover (again -oops!)
Breads Etcetera opens in Brixton Village
Desperately seeking records
A Brixton drunk night
Beans On Toast and Captain Hotknives – my two favourite acts of Boomtown Fair 2015
