ANDRÉ KERTÉSZ
Broken Plate, Paris, France, 1929, printed 1970's
For the second edition of The Uncommon Print, we chose to highlight André Kertész's Plaque Cassee (Broken Plate) created in 1929 and printed in the 1970's. While I'm familiar with close to forty prints of this image in existence, mostly 8 x 10" and 11 x 14" in size, I have only been able to find three examples of this image printed as a 16 x 20" and signed in his lifetime. Beyond the rarity of the size, the story of how this image came to be is quite fascinating.
When André left Paris for New York in 1936, he left behind most of the negatives he had created there. They were entrusted to the care of a woman who had been one of his editors. Unbeknownst to him, she had removed them to her country house in the south of France for safekeeping during the war. While testing a new lens in Paris in 1929, he had gazed out the window and made this exposure, which was quite unremarkable until it was damaged while in the custody of his French friend. This negative, with its bullet-hole-like fracture, was returned to him in 1963, along with other negatives, damaged and undamaged, that he had completely forgotten. He discarded all the broken ones except this. "An accident helped me to produce a beautiful effect," he remarked. Even though the negative was made decades earlier, this photograph represents Kertész's style of the late 1960s and early 1970s.
You could go to any number of museums and see this work. The Getty in LA, Museum of Fine Arts in Houston and Boston each have one. The Whitney in NY and SFMoMa in SF. The difference is they all have 8 x 10" prints and this is truly an image that grows in impact the larger it is. This 16 x 20" nearly full bleed print size reveals every intricate detail in the photograph, from the texture of the walls to the cars on the street below. It's like being transported to Montmartre.
André Kertész was born in Budapest, Hungary and studied at the Academy of Commerce until he bought his first camera in 1912. Kertész has been hailed as one of the most important photographers of the twentieth century. Working intuitively, he captured the poetry of modern urban life with its quiet, often overlooked incidents and odd, occasionally comic, or even bizarre juxtapositions. He endeavored "to give meaning to everything" about him with his camera, "to make photographs as by reflection in a mirror, unmanipulated and direct as in life." Combining this seemingly artless spontaneity with a sophisticated understanding of composition, Kertész created a purely photographic idiom that celebrates direct observation of the everyday. Neither a surrealist, nor a strict photojournalist, he nevertheless infused his best images with strong tenets of both. "You don't see" the things you photograph, he explained, "you feel them."