A Conversation With Richard Renaldi:

Richard Renaldi's Figure and Ground is one of my favourite photo books from this year. I immediately hoped to be able to talk to Richard about his work, and I was very excited when he agreed to do so.

Jorg Colberg: When you look at how photography has evolved over the past decades how do you see your work in that tradition? Are you conscious about following up or commenting on earlier work? And what photographers do you consider as role models or as people whose work has shaped or influenced yours?

Richard Renaldi:I see my work in some respects as moving both alongside and against how photography has evolved over the past two decades. I think that my work moves against the trend of the past few years of irony in art and photography. I am attempting to show dignity in human beings and the realness of people of all differing classes, ages and races in my photographs. I feel that my work is moving alongside other photographers of recent in much the sense that Roger Hargreaves describes in my essay about the continuum of photography and passing the torch. In this way I feel that I am a portraitist in the tradition of photographers like August Sander, Walker Evans, Judith Joy Ross, and Joel Sternfeld... As far as commenting on following up on earlier work if you mean my own work - yes I feel inspired by work I have done in the past and often that work is a springboard for where I am now and what I am doing now. If you mean other people's work - there is obviously connections that could be made between their work and mine and I have learned much about the history of photography but I think that my work isn't derived from a need or desire to comment on earlier work. However, earlier work does inspire me - for instance I was inspired to do the Workers series after looking at August Sander's work People of the 20th Century.

JC: When you say that you're moving a bit against the trend of irony and that you're trying to show dignity in human beings what work are you thinking of where that hasn't been the case?

RR: If you look at some of the work that has been shown in the Chelsea galleries since the mid 90's I would say there has been a pretty strong thread of frivolousness and irony there. As far as showing "dignity in human beings" - not everyone working in portraiture is shooting strangers and dealing with those ideas/issues. Of those that are I don't know if I want to go on record as criticizing other photographers publicly... I have some work in mind but would rather not discuss that in this forum...

JC: For his work "In the American West", Richard Avedon drew a lot of flak. He got accused of not showing the real West - whatever that might be. It's probably almost inevitable for a photographer to run into this kind problem. How have people reacted to your photos from the West? And how do you (or, if you - hopefully - haven't run into problems similar to Richard Avedon's, would you) approach criticism of that kind?

RR: The West is something that I wanted to do a version of through my eyes. Richard Avedon does not own the West and tough I think it is strong and important work - I also felt that the spectacular natural environment of the West was missing for me in that work. Living in LA for a couple years gave me easy access to this most dramatic part of the United States and I wanted to make photographs - both portrait and landscape. To answer your question I haven't received any criticism for the work as of yet but I have sensed a reluctance and hesitation from some quarters regarding being too closely associated with Avedon's work. I'm not afraid to be compared but I think it is really different work than his and that other comparisons could just as well be made. I recently divided the work into two bodies one on The West and the other on the Great Plains. I felt that there was too much work there and that there really is some confusion as to where the West begins and what associations people have with the west romantically and all. The Great Plains have their own set of impressions and notions and I felt it was a region worth highlighting. I love the flatness and openness of the land in the Plains. My forthcoming show at Yossi Milo gallery will be a selection from three of my series titled The Plains. They are generally all landscapes and portraits from areas of the Great Plains or plains from areas out West.

JC: Would you mind talking about this series a little bit? What drew you to this work? Typically, when people hear that I'm from Europe, they tell me that there really isn't much to see, and it's almost like people want you to either look at the East or the West Coast with their respective attractions. What are the attractions of the Great Plains, and how have you tried to bring those out in your work?

RR: I had been drawn to the Plains as I said previously as an outgrowth of the West. What drew me there and what interests me is the de-populating of this vast region of the US. There are many "dying" towns from Texas to Montana. The economic realities of 21st century America no longer support the early 20th century economic models these places were based on. I find these towns both beautiful and sad. There is not much to do for the youth in these places and the ones that remain are mysterious to me. Many people say there is "nothing there" in places like Kansas and Nebraska and this is something I want to disprove... What I have found is an abundance of beautiful and stark landscapes and abundant preserved small American towns. I have found a rich architecture of both brick and limestone classic early 20th century American architectural vernacular and metal and glass modernism. Regarding landscape I find the Great Plains very inspiring... I see grain elevators and silos dotting the land and train tracks traversing the flat earth for miles. I find clusters of trees or lone houses or vice-versa and their relationship to the wide open sky and land visually striking. By photographing these places and scenes I think I am bringing out the "attractions" of the plains...

JC: It seems to me that unlike "the West", this almost mythical place, "the East" doesn't really exist. When I looked at the photos and especially portraits that you took in places like Newark, I thought that there really should be something like a notion "the East". But there isn't. So what made you take photos in places like Newark?

RR: I was intrigued by Newark. Living in NYC and having been exposed to these negative impressions of Newark - I thought it would be an interesting place to explore through my preferred medium... I also felt a greater sense of openness there than in NYC and this is when I turned my frame sideways and started to include the urban landscape in these portraits. Again I was hoping to uplift Newark by creating strong and moving images from this beautiful city that lives in the shadow of NY and is often associated with crime or blight (which is not what I found there). I actually started the Fresno project not too long after Newark and I do see some strong connections there - a sort of East/West connection between these two cities that people have generally pessimistic views of. The work was shown together at Debs and Co. a gallery in NYC.

JC: One topic which just won't stop fascinating me (regardless of how many photographers I ask about it) is the relationship between a photographer and his or her subjects. How do you approach portraiture? And how do you then take those portraits? Also, and this is something that I always find especially interesting, when your subjects see the portraits, how did they react?

RR: I approach portraiture as a stranger approaching another with both hope and fear. There is an element of possible rejection there as well as suspicion which I try to eliminate and build a sense of trust and understanding as to what I am doing and why I am doing it. I ask my subjects if they would allow me to please make their portrait and then we set up the shot and I may or may not do some directing as to what they are to do, hold, and where to look. I also do the "casting" right there on the street. We may find the right spot nearby or walk/drive together until the right background is found. I almost never know the reaction of my subjects to the photographs - as I mail them to them and very rarely receive a response/thank you. My guess is though that some of these strangers are probably not extremely happy with their photograph because people are very self critical and I bet many of them (but not most) would prefer to remember themselves smiling which I prefer my subjects not to do. Other people probably really enjoy them and have given them to family members or loved ones (as I always send more than one copy...)

JC: So you haven't heard of any of your subjects walking into a show where their portrait is shown? Do you miss feedback by your subjects, or is it not relevant for you?

RR: At my last show in LA - two of the subjects actually came to the opening. I think it was pretty cool and exciting for them to see themselves up on the gallery wall... The other circumstance when this occurred is at the opening at the ICP First Triennial one of my subjects in the Madison Avenue series Gay Talese was there and we took a photo together (while I borrowed his signature fedora hat) in front of my photo of him. I certainly am glad when I hear that a subject is happy with their photograph. As I want them to feel good about how they appear to the camera. I do try to be a realist about this though and don't expect everyone to like them... I do like the feedback from the subjects but the opportunity for it doesn't arise too often with my artwork (more often with my commercial work...) That said I just saw the workers I photographed for my project on The FARM at the Green Market last week and they all said "Thanks for the photographs and that they liked them."

The Kindness of Strangers

By Jay Jorgensen

A woman in fur in a fashionable New York City shopping district. A group of young men all dressed in white outside of a suburban home in Fresno, California. A man with a shopping bag at a bus stop in Newark, New Jersey. The common link that this disparate group of people have is that they have all been approached by a stranger on the street and agreed to be photographed on the spot, forever freezing that slice of their lives and allowing us to ponder their existence and our own.

The stranger recording these moments is Los Angeles-based photographer Richard Renaldi, whose images are fueled by his keen interest in people. His pictures are not candids of passers-by, which is obvious from the direct stare of his subjects. These are people with whom Renaldi has had a dialogue and even a relationship, even if it may be only for the few minutes that they have stopped and agreed to pose.

"I'll just walk up to people and say 'hi, I'm a photographer' and show them one of my promotional cards," Renaldi says. "Depending on where I am, the ratio of people agreeing to be photographed differs. People are naturally suspicious or self-conscious, but you have to break through."

Renaldi often will take images of people in series form, usually based on their geographic location. Locations have included Madison Avenue in New York City; Fresno, California; Newark, New Jersey; the Pier 45 area of Manhattan; and Fall River, Massachusetts. His photography is not limited just to the streets, however. He has photographed a series on living spaces of HIV patients which was used on a series of posters for the Columbia School of Public Health, as well as worked for commercial clients including Columbia Pictures, New York magazine and Vogue.

But it is the relationship between stranger and subject that intrigues Renaldi most. "In my life, I've thought most about my portrait work, " Renaldi says. "My intention is to create dignified portraits. Picking up on the dignity and beauty of the subject is more important than the formalism of the photograph itself. The composition, color and all the other things going on happen consciously and subconsciously."

The only ally Renaldi has in his quest to record people on the street is his Wisner 8x10 view camera. "People are intrigued by the camera," he says. "It's a huge piece of equipment and it looks like it came from another planet. It's made of mahogany with brass fittings and vermillion leather bellows, so people think it's an antique."

Renaldi will sometimes set up his camera along a street, such as Madison Avenue, and will watch for intriguing subjects to pass by. Sometimes he'll have to follow them for 1 to 2 blocks to catch up with them and explain his intentions. "You have to be interested in people to do this," says Renaldi. "It takes a certain personality to deal with the interaction and the rejection that you sometimes face. You have to be comfortable approaching people from any socio-economic background. You can't be afraid of the world."

Renaldi describes the various reactions he gets when he approaches people about posing as "refusal, aloof complicity or outright enthusiasm." One subject for the Madison Avenue series even went so far as to describe each appearance she'd ever had in print while he was making her portrait.

For a series such as "Fresno," Renaldi may choose to drive around neighborhoods to find his subjects. In those cases, he will often find a spot within a one-block radius to use as a background. "Once I got used to the 8x10 camera, I started shooting horizontally and experimenting with lenses," Renaldi says. "I went from a 450mm lens to a 300mm lens to get more of the background involved. The pictures became more complex and interesting. When I started thinking about bringing the person and their environment together, the pictures became more harmonious, or in some cases, it created more tension."

Because Renaldi makes all of his portraits in natural light, most of them are made in the morning or late afternoon. He estimates about 70 percent are made in open shade. "I also find that the light has a different quality with the large-format photography, "he says. "The essence of the light is magnificent."

What Renaldi also finds magnificent are the unexpected moments and spontaneous gestures that result from doing work like this. "When I photograph people on the street, I get their address, so I can mail a print to them," Renaldi says. "Recently, I photographed a guy who wanted me to send the print to his father. He gave me an envelope with his father's address on it and inside was a note that said 'I love you, Dad.' I was really touched that this man would trust a stranger to send along this message."

Renaldi stumbled into photography when a high school art class that he wanted to take was filled up and he opted for the photography class. "Little did I know..." he says. His teacher mentored him and Renaldi learned his craft quickly. "I started doing the school magazine and became the 'Pecker' of my generation in Chicago," Renaldi says, referencing the title character of the John Waters film.

"I was never athletic," Renaldi continues. "Photography was something I liked and was good at. It gave me a sense of confidence. If you find something you can do well at that age, it takes away the angst." Renaldi went on to receive his BFA in photography from New York University and later worked as a photo editor at the Magnum photo agency.

Renaldi exhibits his work in galleries, and had his first solo show in New York City earlier this year at Debs & Co. In addition to the street portraits, Renaldi has also shot series on longtime HIV survivors, gay and lesbian elderly, and motion-landscape photos along the many different highways he has traveled in locations as varied as Kentucky and Japan. The latter series was shot on 35mm film because Renaldi says it allows him more freedom to shoot in a smaller format when he is traveling.

"I would like to do more public health work like the series on the living spaces of people with HIV," Renaldi says. "It was enlightening and moving. But a lot of the funding for projects like that has been cut now." Some of Renaldi's images were used in Rory Kennedy's documentary "PANDEMIC: Facing AIDS."

"The meaning of my work is for the viewer to decide," Renaldi says. "I can't tell people what to think or what it means. Some people have difficulty with portraiture. They don't know why you wouldn't just want to photograph some pretty object. But I think 'why not photograph a real person?' When people get my work, I'm very happy." 

Text David Mills

Reality Check

Richard Renaldi reveals the naked truth.

THE GENRE of male erotic photography has its own conceits and conventions. First among these: the tenet that models must be indisputably and unapproachably hot . Which is not to say that the men in Richard Renaldi's Naked Gay Friends series aren't. They are ’ but they seem like real men, grounded in a world we recognise, rather than the icily perfect denizens of some homo Valhalla.

Frustration with male erotic photography's seeming obsession with the body beautiful inspired Renaldi to take a fresh approach in the depiction of the naked male form. "I wanted to try and make beautiful images of real-looking guys, and pull them from the people I knew rather than taking strangers, who I often photograph," he explains. "Most of the subjects in my series are good-looking guys, and they have good bodies, but it's not the sort of superbuff and perfect imagery that we're bombarded with. I'm attracted to that image myself ’ but it's not what everyone looks like."

A belief in photography's ability to validate the normal and the everyday seems to underlie this project, as it did another Renaldi series which depicted older gay men and lesbians. "There are so few images of older gay people, and our culture places so much emphasis on youth and beauty. But there is a need for that kind of imagery. It helps fulfil a need that people have to feel that they are there," he contends.

Renaldi's portfolio of work is as diverse as it is engaging, and includes eclectic series from corporate-lobby landscapes to portraits of Madison Avenue habitués. Naked Gay Friends represents his first serious return to photographing nudes since his college days. "I had Larry Clark as a teacher, and he wanted nudes just because I think he wanted to look at nude pictures," Renaldi says with a laugh.

There's no cheesecake quality to the Naked Gay Friends series, however. The models stand centre-frame, unsmiling and seemingly matter-of-fact. "There are definite exceptions to the rule, but in general I believe a portrait demands a level of seriousness," Renaldi explains. "You're actually standing for a portrait, you're not in that sense candid. And you get a more clear reading of somebody with a neutral expression."

But convincing his gay friends to pose nude was not easy in some cases. "For a lot of them, it took a while for them to come around to want to do it," he says. "It was really hard to convince people, and I only have so many friends. I'm less social than I used to be, so the pool is draining." And the men in the photographs ’ are they friends of Renaldi's or friends of each other?

"They are my friends, but some of them know each other," he replies. "There are connections, the gay web of who knows who and who's fucked with whom. You could draw a few lines between the people in the series." But he's not going to do that. It's up to you.

Photographer Richard Renaldi covers the waterfront

"It's a great big open-air hangout," says photographer Richard Renaldi of New York City's legendary West Village waterfront, a place he captured in Pier 45, a series of slice-of-life pictures taken between 1994 and 1997. "The attraction is the openness. You don't get that kind of sky anywhere else in the city. And people like to photograph it the way they like to photograph Coney Island -- because of the past and this quality of 'life at the edge."

Two decades ago, what photographers found standing here were the noble ruins of New York's once-great maritime economy: Early 20th-century commercial sheds, abandoned and weathered. The piers offered pleasures unavailable in the rest of New York City: Sex, solitude and that amazing light when the sun sets. What Renaldi found -- what remains after the superstructures are demolished and the piers fenced off -- is pure spirit.

"Recording this place was important because the scene changed so fast -- and now it's vanished," Renaldi says. "Last summer, when I went back, all this was gone." Individually, these pictures are community snapshots, full of affection and ardor for their subjects: Sunbathers recline on folding chaises; Stonewall survivors perch, chatting, on lane dividers; bikers, bladers and strollers give each other the eye. But taken together, these pictures compose an epic.

Renaldi lives here, too -- in a multistory townhouse as sparse and elegant as his photographic compositions, tucked into a small cobblestone mews half a block from the river. At 29, he's been HIV positive for over a year and has just started a drug protocol that seems to have him in good health. Only recently has he quit his day job as a researcher in a photo stock company and begun to devote himself full-time to his own commercial work.

Renaldi has a documentary-journalistic approach to photography -- and that, he says, is one reason that it's been difficult to interest a publisher in Pier 45 as a book. "There just aren't many Eugene Smiths, Robert Franks or Garry Winogrands around," Renaldi explains, referring to some of the century's great slice-of-lifers. "Nowadays the galleries can sell journalistic or documentary stuff only if it's old. I don't think we look at ourselves anymore. What's out there is so conceptually based. Nan Goldin is the one exception -- but then, that sells because it's shock."

Looking at Renaldi's photographs -- even the explicitly sexual ones -- you sense that shock is the last thing this photographer aims for. He's friendly, frank and free of irony. There's no tension between his roles as observer and as participant, and you get the feeling that we -- photographer, subject, viewer -- all share a vibe.

"Why I do it is simple: I love photography," he admits." When I'm shooting, those are my best moments. I have great experiences that I wouldn't have without my camera."

Renaldi's current project is to document the life of one of the world's ultimate shopping centers, Madison Avenue. "I thought it was going to be difficult, but all these ladies want is to be photographed. The other day, one was telling me proudly how many times her picture has appeared in newspapers and magazines."

How does this compare with covering the waterfront?

Renaldi considers for a moment. "It's different and the same," he says. "The people on Madison Avenue are so totally unembarrassed about being their amazing, individual selves. I guess I like that."