John Cohen: Look Up to the Moon
In the summer of 1955 a relatively naive and uninformed John Cohen (born 1932) crossed the straits of Gibraltar. He arrived in Tangier with a handwritten note in Arabic; the man who had composed it in New York had told him to “keep this paper far from your passport.” Cohen had no idea why, or indeed what the note said; it was not addressed to a specific person. He was simply instructed to look for a certain man when he arrived, who would then send him to “the others.” Cohen’s otherwise straightforward trip to make photographs in Morocco thus began with a sense of intrigue. In his words: “The camera led my way to a distant culture, along with the desire to represent what I could see and sense there, and not be distracted by chronology or thought. My photographs were intended to be a sensual response to light and to the people who inhabited these spaces.”
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In the summer of 1955 a relatively naive and uninformed John Cohen (born 1932) crossed the straits of Gibraltar. He arrived in Tangier with a handwritten note in Arabic; the man who had composed it in New York had told him to “keep this paper far from your passport.” Cohen had no idea why, or indeed what the note said; it was not addressed to a specific person. He was simply instructed to look for a certain man when he arrived, who would then send him to “the others.” Cohen’s otherwise straightforward trip to make photographs in Morocco thus began with a sense of intrigue. In his words: “The camera led my way to a distant culture, along with the desire to represent what I could see and sense there, and not be distracted by chronology or thought. My photographs were intended to be a sensual response to light and to the people who inhabited these spaces.”
As an Amazon Associate, AntiSchool earns a percentage from qualifying purchases.
In the summer of 1955 a relatively naive and uninformed John Cohen (born 1932) crossed the straits of Gibraltar. He arrived in Tangier with a handwritten note in Arabic; the man who had composed it in New York had told him to “keep this paper far from your passport.” Cohen had no idea why, or indeed what the note said; it was not addressed to a specific person. He was simply instructed to look for a certain man when he arrived, who would then send him to “the others.” Cohen’s otherwise straightforward trip to make photographs in Morocco thus began with a sense of intrigue. In his words: “The camera led my way to a distant culture, along with the desire to represent what I could see and sense there, and not be distracted by chronology or thought. My photographs were intended to be a sensual response to light and to the people who inhabited these spaces.”
As an Amazon Associate, AntiSchool earns a percentage from qualifying purchases.