Hear the Photographer (y1980-11)

Shortly after Scott Burton created Public Table, the Princeton University Art Museum asked me to make photographs of the sculpture for their image archive and for use in a variety of publications. The way we perceive a work of art is greatly affected by its surroundings: nearby buildings, trees, cars, and pedestrians, not to mention ever-changing light and weather conditions, add visually and sensually to our perception. I had some difficulty finding a camera angle that would make Public Table stand out from the many visual elements surrounding it. I considered using the beautiful stone facade of the nearby Murray Dodge building as a backdrop for the image, but a modern, obtrusive railing system, since removed, made that option a non-starter; in the Polaroid test images I made, the railing seemed to grow out of the tabletop. In the end I found an acceptable angle that showed off the piece well and set up my tripod and large, 4x5 inch view camera. Now the trick was to wait for light that would shine on the sculpture at the right angle. I had been lugging my gear around campus that hot and humid summer morning and was feeling the heat; I calculated that I would have to wait about half an hour more for the right light, so I tried to stay cool in the shade and waited near my camera. As the appointed time to photograph neared, I saw several figures approaching in the distance: four young children, accompanied by their mom, all carrying ice-cream cones. The children raced toward Public Table, and, before I could react, they leaped onto the sculpture, began marching around it all the while singing "here we go round the mulberry bush" and eating their ice cream. When Mom realized that I was set up to photograph and that the kids were in the way, she was very apologetic; I assured her that I could wait until the kids had finished their exploration of the work and took one film of them playing. After cleaning up some ice cream that had spilled onto the concrete surface of the sculpture, I captured the work without the children, packed up my gear, and left for the day, satisfied that I had taken an image that would best show off the work and once more amazed at the unpredictability of image-making in the outdoors.