THE FIRST TIME I SAW PARIS
Friday, July 13, 1962, Idlewild Airport, New York City. Having been promoted to studio manager for the famed photographer Richard Avedon, I was now about to get the plum assignment that my esteemed position called for. In the world of fashion photography, nothing is more important than the Fall Couture Collections in Paris. So tonight it's off to the City of Light aboard Air France — my first trip to Europe. I'm going there a week before the rest of the crew as the boss thought it would be advantageous for me to get acclimated first. He was a kind person.
It never occurred to me that I'd be landing on the morning of Bastille Day.
For the French this is the most important day of the year. Just about everything closes down for the celebrations that begin in the morning and continue until very late at night (photo above).
I was met at Orly Airport by Marianne, the lovely young lady who ran the Paris office of Harpers Bazaar magazine, for whom we were working. She had reserved a room for me at the Hôtel San Regis, between the Champs-Élysées and the Seine. An area that was closed to traffic for the big parade. We wound up walking the last few blocks.
It was still morning, so my room was not yet ready. The hotel insisted that I wait in the dining room, which was occupied by only one other person — whose face was hidden behind a newspaper. The paper came down, and I was completely stunned to see...my younger brother, Richard! They had this all arranged! Rich was at that time in the army, stationed near Munich, and took a few days off to join me. That's him on the left, in a photo taken the next evening just before dark. You've probably seen that tower before.
We had lunch at a very old-fashioned restaurant on the Rue Marbeuf, at an sidewalk table. I ordered what I thought was a small pitcher of wine, but got my words wrong. What came was a huge, monster carafe of the same house wine. Manfully, we drank it all. And staggered up to the Champs-Élysées just in time to watch Général Charles-de-Gaulle lead a parade down from the Arc de Triomphe. At least we tried to see him, not having had the foresight to bring along one of those strange paper periscopes that let you see over the heads of the crowd. The people in the photo, right, are watching him. We did get a glimpse, however.
Jet lag be damned! For the remainder of the day we wandered around town seeing the sights, and figured out how to use the Métro without getting lost. One of the places visited was Montmartre, where bad artists sell their creations at the Place du Tertre (photo, left). We also went to the flea market, the Eiffel Tower, Notre-Dame Cathedral, and other places. Some of those may have been on the next day or so — my memory is not all that clear after all those years.
I do remember stopping at several sidewalk cafés for refreshments, and to rest the weary legs. That's me on the right, doing just that.
Eventually, jet lag won out and we headed back to the hotel for a rest. Then we found out that there would be big celebrations after dark, so it was back to the Champs-Élysées (photo at top of page) for a while, and then over to the Left Bank to watch students cavort.
The photo above depicts students and other Parisians cavorting. The excellent photographic technique is testimony to my sobriety all evening. This was taken right off the Seine, at the Quai de Conti (I think).
After two or three days Richard went back to his army base in Germany, and I began getting things ready at the Harper's Bazaar Studio on Rue Jean-Goujon. The setup there dated from the 1920s, so I shopped around for some more modern darkroom equipment. We had previously shipped the cameras, film, and chemicals over by air freight. Then the work began. We could only get the fashions to photograph at night as during the day they were being shown to clients, store buyers, and journalists. So all night long we took pictures, and all day long developed them. Not much sleep for nearly two weeks.
My vacation began as soon as the collections ended, so I took the Orient Express to Vienna to explore my Austrian heritage. Then to Italy, and finally a few days in Switzerland before flying back to New York.
Although I've been back to Paris a few dozen times since then, I'll always treasure the memory of this visit.
NEW:
Photography's Golden Age ended long ago but remains very much alive in my memory. From 1952 through 1965 I assisted Avedon during his most creative period, and do I ever have the stories to tell! Now, at the end of 2015, is the time to reveal all, while I'm still alive and kicking. Tales of personalities, motivations, intrigues, and even the fine details of how it was all done.
What I need to make this a reality is a co-conspirator to aid in getting the whole, true, uncensored story published -- either as a book, an e-book, or even a documentary.
Anyone interested? Leave a comment and I'll get back to you.
CLICK HERE for more on the Paris Couture Collections.
RETURN to the Avedon Years Index.
Mr. Steinbicker, I just want to say how wonderful it is to read these entries.
Though I'm clearly fascinated with all this information you give on equipment, process, etc., I'm perhaps most impressed with how touching many of these stories are. You've given a real sense of the excitement of your time with Avedon, and yet rendered him very sweetly, as a human being. Considering the tone and sincerity of the voice of your writing, this makes perfect sense.
Thank you for this. These entries make me smile.
Posted by: David Ryan | June 20, 2008 at 08:21 PM