Histories: Tales from the 70's | Photographs by Henry Horenstein
Histories: Tales from the 70's
Photographs by Henry Horenstein. Text by Tom Rankin.
Honky Honk Editions, Boston, USA, 2016. 140 pp., 120 duotone illustrations, 10x11½".
We were thrilled to host long time author and educator Henry Horenstein at the 2016 Filter Photo Festival as both a portfolio reviewer and workshop instructor. So many of us had our first darkroom experiences through the chapters of his famous text Basic Photography. Enjoy this monograph of his exceptional vintage work from the 1970’s. Only 1 left in stock!
"The tales that Henry Horenstein has to tell are primarily about honky-tonk joints and personalities, stock-car racing, horse racing, Cajun, LA, and life in an upper-middle class suburb of Boston. These are 120 black-and-white readily accessible images. Dolly Parton (Symphony Hall, Boston, 1972) stands in a virginal white, long-sleeved, high-neck dress, her head piled with golden tresses; she looks out from heavily mascaraed eyes, maybe seeing into the near future when her ascending success becomes legendary. The Lovers (Tootsie's Orchid Lounge, Nashville, Tenn., 1975) are not conventional figures of romance; middle-aged, heavyset, far from adorable, he nonetheless smooches her affectionately in front of a graffiti-covered wall. Wanda Behind the Bar (Tootsie s Orchid Lounge, 1974) leans on the counter; the wall behind her is covered with autographed glossy photos of entertainers and, below them, zillions of overlapping snapshots of customers and their children." —The Wall Street Journal
"The American photographer is best known for documenting the country-music scene, and this show of black-and-white work from the nineteen-seventies includes pictures from the Grand Ole Opry (notably, a portrait of a dewy Dolly Parton). But they're overshadowed by subtler and more probing images, which recall Diane Arbus. A boy in glasses, alone in an audience, looks startled by the camera ' attention; by contrast, two women, arm in arm in clashing checks and stripes, beam happily. A masseur stands outside a steam room full of young jockeys like a sentry." —The New Yorker