DC: It was exotic? Shore, S. How am I looking at something? They agreed to back a book, but unfortunately could only offer him a limited budget, and Shore was forced to whittle the series down to a mere forty images.
Uh, three young boys were looking at something and pointing. I mean, it takes a lot of understanding on her part, to do that; to participate in a trip like that. And so, I would often include cars for that reason, because I understood that they were going to be time markers in the picture.
He then mounted the first exhibition of the series by simply taping the small machine-made prints he got back from the stores onto the walls of a gallery in a large grid.
Shore creates a seamless image that makes the viewers feel they are the ones who noticed the light streaming through a telephone booth, the dance of telephone wires over a dusty street, the color of a turquoise pipe, the sky reflected in the hoods of parked cars, and generally how great our world can look if one takes some time.
AS: Okay, enough about Evans.
But none is there to see through, as if transparent, none is what a photograph once was called, a window into the world.
AS: The one thing that throws me, when I look through the new edition, is the emergence of all of never-before-seen portraits.
Within a year of his solo show at the Met, Shore was on the road photographing American Surfaces, a body of pictures that is now largely seen as the key to deciphering his more popular Uncommon Places work. Shore was taking photographs for Uncommon Places at the same time at which painters were exploring Photorealism, with artists such as John Baeder and Ralph Goings similarly depicting the diner as a significant site for North American life.
And then it just stopped.