“I just walk around observing the subject from various angles until the picture elements arrange themselves into a composition that pleases my eye.”
~ Andre Kertész
(1894-1985)
It is 1978 in New York, the year after his wife Elizabeth passed away. She and Andre had been married for 44 years. He is alone, emotionally adrift in the next and last chapter of his long and creative life. He is isolated and creatively stifled. His photography has stopped. He is living with only his memories of his former life. He roams the Village near his apartment in Washington Square. He starts to pick up and buy little objects in local antique stores—things that most of us wouldn’t pay any attention to—but somehow they evoke something in him, and his creative juices start to flow again. Remember, this is the man who was considered one of the most original creative forces of the 20th century. His friends and colleagues were Mondrian and Chagall.
“Venus” was the goddess of love. No words are written, but this is one of his last visual love poems to her and to us.
