Henry Wessel
[Photographer, b. 1942, Teaneck, New Jersey, lives in San Francisco.]
I actually try and work before my mind is telling me what to do.
You’re suddenly seeing the coherence and the interconnectedness of everything, left to right, top to bottom, front to back. It’s all connected, and, somehow, it’s all in balance. And that’s, of course, when you go, “Yes!”
In a still photograph you basically have two variables, where you stand and when you press the shutter. That’s all you have.
Most musicians I know don’t just play music on Saturday night. They play music every day. They are always fiddling around, letting the notes lead them from one place to another. Taking still photographs is like that. It is a generative process. It pulls you along.
The process of photographing is a pleasure: eyes open, receptive, sensing, and at some point, connecting. It’s thrilling to be outside your mind, your eyes far ahead of your thoughts.
Part of [photography] has to do with the discipline of being actively receptive. At the core of this receptivity is a process that might be called soft eyes. It is a physical sensation. You are not looking for something. You are open, receptive. At some point you are in front of something that you cannot ignore.