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A Photographic Memory (2024)

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A Photographic Memory (2024)

Post by bunniefuu »

[intense music playing]

[microphone rumbling]

[woman]

This is a test.

[tape button clicks]

I want to see

how the sound is working.

[microphone rustling]

Yes, there we are,

some sign of life

has returned to the world here.

But still, it doesn't seem

to be as much as it ought to.

Let's see

what's happening here.

[indistinct chatter]

[woman] You can edit

the whole thing,

take out everything you don't

really want [indistinct].

[tape button clicks]

[tape button clicks]

[tape button clicks]

[tape button clicks]

[tape button clicks]

[indistinct soft speaking]

[tape button clicks]

[tape button clicks]

[woman]

Reel three, Bresson.

[microphone rumbling]

Is it too simple

to talk in a way of--

of the photography, in a way,

saving seconds of time?

[Henri]

I don't know.

Life is very fluid.

Well, um, sometimes a picture

has disappeared,

nothing you can do.

You can't tell the person,

"Oh, please smile again,

do that gesture again."

Life is once forever.

[reel whirring]

[tape button clicks]

[tape button clicks]

All right, the first

phone number I'm gonna call

is... David Appel.

[phone notification]

[woman 2] Your call cannot

be completed as dialed.

Should I call her accountant?

That's kind of silly, right?

Nobody's close

to their accountant.

We're sorry,

you have reached a number

that has been disconnected.

Helen Cook,

she was the nanny in England.

No phone number though.

[phone line squealing]

[groans]

Did you happen to know a woman

named Sheila Turner Seed?

Okay, sorry about that,

thank you.

[busy signal]

There's one more number here,

so I'll try it.

[phone ringing]

[man] Yes?

Hi, my name is Rachel Seed,

I'm Sheila Turner Seed's

daughter.

[man]

Sheila--oh my God.

Sheila--

It's Sheila Turner's daughter.

How are you?

I'm good,

I'm actually calling people

from her address book,

and I'm collecting stories,

and I'm learning

about who she was,

because she died

when I was so young.

[man] How old were you

when she died?

I was 18 months old

when she died.

[man] Oh, then you didn't

really know her.

Your mother was

a remarkable storyteller.

I know she went

to Latin America...

[tape button clicks]

[Rachel] I have no memories

of my mother.

[Sheila] The derry-o

The farmer in the dell

[Sheila vocalizing]

[Rachel] And when I set out

to find her a few years back...

she was basically

a stranger to me.

[Sheila] Derry-o

The farmer takes a wife

[microphone rumbling]

[Sheila]

It might be interesting...

[Rachel] My dad never

talked much about her.

[indistinct speaking]

Except to tell me that

she was an accomplished writer

and photographer,

way ahead of her time.

[Sheila]

Showing your pictures that...

[train rattling]

[Rachel] But it wasn't until

I became a photographer myself

that I started

to become curious

about the work she created.

And whether,

in the pages of her transcripts

and contact sheets...

her journals

and her audio tapes...

["Possibility"

by Lykke Li playing]

...I might also find her.

[vocalizing]

[Lykke Li]

Know that when you leave

By blood and by me

You walk like a thief

By blood and by me

And I fall when you leave

[vocalizing]

[tape button clicks]

[birds chirping]

[man 2] The fate

of an old photographer

is to be photographed himself.

And now his fate is to have

a camera stuck into his face

by his darling daughter.

[camera chirps]

This is not

all that easy to use.

You kind of have

to get used to it, you know?

-Sometimes people get--

-Very hard to focus.

God. Oh, it's impossible

to focus.

-Really?

-You're welcome to it.

Keep it.

[Rachel] Let me see.

Were you surprised why I decided

to become a photographer?

I mean,

you've obviously inherited

some of her qualities

and some of her interests.

Which actually probably would

be my interests as well,

so where it comes from,

we don't know.

[soft, mysterious music playing]

[Rachel]

One of my earliest memories

was of my dad hiding out

in his basement darkroom...

[scissors snip]

...lost in his pictures.

[projector clicks]

He captured my childhood

in stock photos...

[projector clicks]

...which he licensed

to support our family.

[projector clicks]

They had captions like

"8 year-old's birthday party."

[projector clicks]

"Child watches Sesame Street."

[projector clicks]

"Friends blowing bubbles."

[projector clicks]

In this fantasy world,

my dad wasn't a widower.

[projector clicks]

And I wasn't a girl

without a mom.

[birds chirping]

[Brian] How much longer

are you here now?

I've asked you this question

probably 15 times.

-[Rachel] A few more days.

-Few more days.

I'm gonna miss

my lovely daughter.

Dad, I'm here, I've been here

half the whole year.

I know, I know, I know, I know.

But even so...

It's no good.

And actually tears

are coming to my eyes.

Can you believe that?

Kind of silly, isn't it?

-You're emotional.

-Hm?

-You're emotional.

-I am, I am.

I have to be 'cause...

Why?

I don't know.

'Cause I'm just

a little lonely boy

all by himself.

[Rachel] Well, I was

a little lonely girl.

Well, I'm very sorry about it.

I mean, you weren't--

I did my best for you not to be

a lonely girl most of all.

You don't want my past,

I'll tell you that.

You may think your past

wasn't all that brilliant.

Well, I didn't get to see

my mother at all.

All right.

Let's see who suffered the most.

[mellow music playing]

These are Time negatives,

and they're identified,

actually,

because I do believe...

Old London photographs.

Oh, and by the way,

up there are actual prints.

By now, these are old prints

that were made in the days

when I was printing.

[stairs creaking]

Important photographers

were interviewed.

And their thoughts

and stories about how they took

their images recorded.

[projector clicks]

Once she had died,

I started looking

for the originals.

I don't know what ICP has

at this point.

We're now talking

about 30-plus years ago.

[horn beeps]

[man 3] This became not a museum

but the home for photographers

and the home for photography,

and that's what we want to keep,

that's what we want to develop,

and that's what the significance

of ICP is going to be, that.

[soft music playing]

[Brian] A photographer's work

can easily disappear

if there's nobody

looking after it.

Cornell was working with Sheila

in the creation

of the Images of Man series.

[water rushing]

He sent her to London

to research.

And said, "Look up Brian Seed,

he may be able to help you."

My marrying your mother

was due to Cornell.

Cornell is the common link,

actually,

between all of us.

[distant horn beeps]

[phone ringing]

[Brian W.] Brian Wallis.

[Rachel] Hey, Brian,

this is Rachel Seed, uh,

Sheila Turner's daughter.

[Brian W.] Oh, yeah,

right, I remember.

[Rachel] So, my dad told me

that he sent

all my mother's work to ICP

in the '70s.

[Brian W.] Oh, yes.

We could look into that.

Uh, did you want to come here

and do some research?

[Rachel] What I'm really looking

for is her raw interviews,

hearing her talks

with photographers,

'cause I actually have

no memories of her voice.

[sentimental music playing]

[tape button clicks]

[reels whirring]

[microphone distorting]

[man clears his throat]

[Sheila] First thing is, would

you just introduce yourself?

[Cornell] I'm Cornell Capa.

Photographer.

[Sheila laughs]

[Sheila] Again, I just--

I've heard it so many times.

Dammit.

Uh, okay.

[laughing]

We're sitting

in Cornell's happy home.

[Cornell] The dogs are asleep.

[Sheila]

And the dogs are asleep.

-Okay.

-[Cornell chuckles]

-All right.

-Speaking for their mistress.

[Sheila] Yes, as soon

as we start, of course,

the dogs will all wake up

and the fire engines

will start blaring,

but we shall see.

Okay.

[tape button clicking]

[reels whirring]

[tape buttons click]

This is reel, um, five,

Cornell Capa.

I think we should sort of

maybe start at the beginning

and even talk a little bit

about how you became

a photographer.

[Cornell] Certain things

are the property of everyone,

regardless of circumstance.

The air, the sun...

To be able to translate that

into stories

is a great attraction.

Photography is

a universal language.

[Sheila]

That's beautiful.

[reels whirring]

Was there a breakthrough

when everybody started

to look very human to you?

Were there any moments

of connection?

[Rachel] The photos of us

couldn't capture

the real memory...

which was your voice.

[Sheila] Say, "Hey, look.

Look at this, world."

All right.

It's Monday morning

and Mommy's rushing

to get ready to go.

[camera shutter clicks]

[Rachel] It was familiar to me.

[Sheila]

Something new is starting.

Something is ending,

something is beginning.

[baby Rachel coos]

[Rachel]

A memory until that moment

I didn't know I had.

[wind blowing softly]

[playful music playing]

As far back as I can remember,

there were cameras.

So many cameras.

[camera shutter clicks]

This was my first camera.

But we didn't

just film milestones.

We filmed everything.

Do you really need a microphone

on that damn thing?

[Rachel]

Yes, it's a video camera, Dad.

-Oh.

-You're being videoed.

I am being videoed. Okay.

Well, am I looking at my best

is the question.

[camera shutter clicks]

[mellow music playing]

[camera shutter clicks]

[camera shutter clicks]

[Rachel] What were

the magazines and newspapers

you worked for?

[Brian] Oh, well, I mean,

primarily it was Life, Time,

Sports Illustrated,

Sunday Times Magazine,

Sunday Observer Magazine.

[Rachel] Did you meet

Marilyn Monroe?

[Brian] I never met her.

We'd exchange glances, you know.

[Rachel] This is in London.

[Brian] That was an opening

of a play.

-[indistinct chatter]

-[engine rumbling]

I was off at a corner

on up the stairs,

waiting for the moment.

[camera shutter clicks]

And Marilyn knew that I,

as the guy with three Leicas

strung around his neck,

that my photographs would be

seen over a period of time...

[camera clicks]

...unlike the photographs

of the 4x5

camera-wielding people

whose photographs would be in

the next day's newspaper, maybe,

and then lost and gone forever.

[camera shutter clicks]

Oh, this is when we all

went to California in 1957.

Sheila's graduation.

-Cornell.

-[Rachel] Oh, that's cool.

Well, it's written--

[Barry] This says "Sheila's...

thirteenth birthday."

Oh, my God.

This is really great stuff

to have.

[reel whirring]

Oh, it is Kodachrome.

Oh, it's beautiful.

[projector whirring]

[solemn music playing]

I saw you moving

for the first time.

Family footage

of your childhood.

And then of your wedding.

And then, at the end...

I saw the two of us together.

I only remember

not having a mother.

But here is a little girl

who has a mother.

And in this perfect part

of time...

we're together.

[projector whirring]

[children laughing]

[Barry] Well, she was my sister,

my older sister.

My only sister.

She definitely wasn't like

anybody else.

When I was growing up,

I thought she was very stubborn.

My mother said,

"No, determined."

I was seven years old,

my mother had a stroke.

We had to really

behave ourselves.

We couldn't be kids

like kids are.

Sheila would argue

with my father constantly...

[children laughing]

...about anything.

[birds chirping]

And that just made her

more determined.

[Rachel]

"September 1st, 1952."

"Chicago."

[soft music playing]

"On these pages, I shall record

the joys and sorrows

of a 15-year-old girl who's

living in a confused world."

"Sometimes I feel sure

that I want to be a writer."

"And other times, I'm not sure

what I want to do at all."

[seagulls calling]

"August 10th, 1960."

"I feel as though

my state of being

hangs on a thin thread."

[wind blowing]

"Slight breezes push me

into temporary despair."

"Slight encouragements

blow me across

into temporary

self-confidence."

"July 7th, midnight."

"I wish I could see

the way right now."

"I must choose a road

without having any idea

where it will lead me."

"What do I want from myself?"

[paper billows]

[woman 3] So, I think

it's further back.

She wants to be a housewife.

-Good for her.

-And this one.

-Yeah, it says...

-[Hinda] "Happily married."

"Millionaire's wife."

-Do you see the trend?

-Yeah.

[Hinda] Sheila said journalism

supreme is her fondest dream.

The goal, then,

from our parents,

from our backgrounds,

was to get married

and have a family.

That was our goal.

[indistinct chatter, laughter]

[Hinda] So, a lot of the girls

went to college,

and they were going

for "MRS" degrees.

That's what they said.

"I'm going to meet somebody."

[mellow music playing]

[Rachel] "December 9th, 1955."

"First of all, I'm not sure

why I'm at college

or what I want from school."

"I can't decide

if it's more important for me

to learn how to use my mind

or to get a husband."

[Patsy Cline]

When tears come down

[Hinda] Here's Sheila

with Norman,

who she was engaged to

at the time.

[indistinct chatter, laughter]

[Rachel] "I gave him back

his ring yesterday."

"I'm sorry for him, but I just

can't do anything different."

[doorbell jingling]

[Hinda] Her father was

this old Jewish generation.

This pressure by her family

of getting married

was so strong.

[projector whirring]

[pen scratching]

[Rachel] "Mom told me

I should marry him."

"How can my own mother

play with my life that way?"

"Can she really have

my best interests at heart?"

"I must write more."

"I think that writing

is the only way

for me to keep reality."

"Am I losing myself?"

[pen scratching]

[giggling]

[Rachel]

"I need to flee Chicago."

[projector whirring]

[projector shuts off]

[Sheila] And I was gonna

ask you about that.

What--what sort of things

do you wish you had done

that you haven't done?

You seem to have

such a full life, really.

[Cecil] I can't think of myself

in my early 20s and 30s

as having been accepted at all.

[soft music playing]

There's no teacher,

no person who gave me

the right directives.

I did need somebody

to just say,

"Well, stop all this nonsense

and, uh, be yourself."

[tape whirring]

[Sheila] This thing that you

wrote, that you were shy,

and yet you--you tended

to associate so much

with public people.

It's almost a contradiction.

[Cecil] I was very ambitious,

but I didn't know in what way

I would be able

to achieve my ambition.

[camera shutter clicks]

I wanted to break out

of the ranks of anonymity.

My family

were perfectly contented

to be ordinary,

quiet human beings.

I just wanted to be a star.

[Sheila] May I quote you, sir?

[distant horns honking]

[energetic rock music playing]

[female singer]

Well, it's so easy

[Rachel] "January 2nd, 1966."

"I feel a good year coming."

[camera shutter clicks]

"One in which I'll break loose

and live more fully."

"New York City

feels right to me."

"Found a light, airy apartment

on the 10th floor."

[tea kettle whistling]

"I'll walk to work

a different way each day."

-[horns blaring]

-[footsteps]

"Lovely letter

from d*ck Robinson

welcoming me."

"He sounds really pleased

I'm coming."

[indistinct lyrics]

[Rachel] "He's my kind

of person."

[indistinct lyrics]

[Rachel] "Smart, kind,

sensitive."

[female singer]

Yeah

Well, it's so easy

[Rachel] I remember

when I was 19,

I came and worked

for a summer here

as an editorial intern.

-Mm-hm.

-[Rachel] And I remember...

I was with

all the other interns,

and you came down

and said hello,

and it seemed like you had

sort of an emotional response

to seeing me.

Oh, of course I did, yeah.

[Rachel] So, what was

going through your mind?

Well, because you were here,

you--and you--

you look like your mom,

so it was sort of like

seeing her.

There was Sheila back again,

you know?

[Sheila] This is Sheila Turner

of Scholastic Magazines.

On this record

you're going to hear

many different opinions

about drugs

that I recently collected

from people

all over the country.

[d*ck] She had evolved

from journalism

and writing to audio.

[Sheila] I started doing

documentary records,

and it really was very exciting

to let people tell

their own stories,

because I'd interview them

just like I had done

for writing the stories.

And this way

I edited the sound.

So I became our first

record-maker in house.

Some believe that policemen

are overstepping their bound,

becoming too powerful,

too brutal.

All over the country, cities

are tearing down old buildings,

but not everybody agrees

about what should replace

these old buildings.

Did she come up with

her own story ideas?

A lot--most of them,

yeah, absolutely.

Find a detective with

a James Bond type car

fitted with all types

of [unintelligible] gadgets.

[d*ck] I think she just

was curious about everything.

[Rachel] Mm-hm.

[d*ck] And she was curious

about the unusual.

For a while,

she took a cameraman with her,

but she grew tired

of this cameraman

and decided she would do it

better herself.

She was so good,

it didn't matter, you know?

And everybody understood that.

[camera clicks]

She had a great touch for

the emotional side of stories.

And she did things

that other women didn't do,

and so she would show up

in places that were surprising.

It's a little bit like

the early female pilots.

She had that

kind of an adventurous spirit.

-[projector whirring]

-[clicking]

[Rachel] "When I left

New York City for Alaska,

Scope editor d*ck Robinson

told me

not to fly on small planes."

[soft music playing]

[plane droning]

"But I soon learned

that if I didn't travel

by bush plane,

I would have to go by dogsled."

"Even three weeks

of constant travel

was not enough

to begin to cover Alaska."

"Fairbanks was my next stop."

[Rachel]

So, I found these articles

that Sheila published mostly

in Scholastic, I think.

This map here shows

all the different places

that she flew to.

[woman 4] Yeah, that's

a darn nice thing to have.

It's kind of hard

to imagine today,

but there weren't

that many women in the field.

[gentle music playing]

Sheila was the first person

I met who was in my profession

that thought like I did

and wasn't afraid.

I considered Sheila

my closest friend

because we were

really workaholics.

We were lifeaholics.

We wanted to do everything,

and we wanted to get it all

as fast as we could.

Sheila got to see the world.

[Rachel] "You ought to know

a little bit about my family."

"I suspect that

their collective experience

is part of my baggage

no matter where I travel."

[Sheila] You want to say

a little bit about

your family background?

[Joe] Yes.

[laughing]

[Sheila] What kind

of oppression did you see?

[Joe sighs]

[somber music playing]

[Joe]

[Sheila]

[Joe]

[Sheila]

[Joe]

[Sheila]

[Joe]

[Sheila] "Now, many members

of my family will not travel

outside of U.S. borders.

It is only there

that they feel safe.

Maybe that's one reason why

I have an insatiable desire

to travel everywhere

and to see everything."

Please bring all final

purchases to the front register

For your convenience,

we do open up at 9:00

tomorrow morning.

Thank you for shopping

Army-Navy.

[car dinging]

[whooshing]

[man 4] Wow, that's beautiful.

-That's amazing.

-[Rachel] Wow.

[Joseph] Jesus Christ.

[whooshing]

[Rachel] Ooh, I'm getting it.

How's this trip

for you, Joseph?

How's it going?

How's it going?

It's been mentally

up and down for me.

This is like The Real World

confession room.

Yeah, it sounds like it.

-How's it been?

-Yeah.

[Joseph] Rolling.

No, it just brings

a lot of questions in my mind

of whether romance

and work can work.

[laughing]

[Joseph] Babe, do that

same thing much closer to me.

Do it much closer, like,

even if you're out of focus.

Come forward.

Right through.

[indistinct chatter]

[Joseph] All right, we're done.

[Brian] This is a test.

We're testing this level.

[Sheila] Uh, this is

your captain speaking.

[soft music playing]

You talk about

how you're able to, every day,

get a terrific

concentration of life

because of the nature

of your work.

[projector clicking]

[Brian] The most important thing

to me in my life

is not the photograph,

is not the camera.

The most important thing to me

is that close little circle,

all those people around me.

The people that really make

my life what it is.

And there was

a time in my life

when it wasn't that way.

I let everybody else,

I think, take a back seat,

and I got burnt for it,

so to say.

[Sheila] I think that, maybe,

both things are important,

love and work.

[Brian] If you don't have work

in the right way,

then it really hurts your love.

And if you don't have

the love,

it really hurts your work.

They're both necessary

for each other.

-[microphone thuds]

-[projector whirring]

[Sheila] Can you say something

about the loneliness,

if that's the right word.

[Rachel] In 2005,

I began traveling the world,

photographing women

who lost their mothers

when they were young.

[camera shutter clicking]

I thought that telling

their stories

would make me feel less alone.

[camera shutter clicking]

[soft clicking]

[clicking intensifies]

[Sheila] Who's that?

Who is that?

[Rachel] But what do you do

when your greatest loss...

[Sheila] Yeah.

[Rachel] ...is something

you can't even remember?

[baby] Mama.

[baby babbling]

[Rachel] Maybe

because you died young,

I inherited

your sense of urgency.

And taking pictures quiets

my anxiety about time passing.

It gives us something

to hold on to.

[projector whirring]

With a camera in hand,

we could relax

into the illusion

of immortality.

[projector clicks]

[film warbling]

[classy piano music playing]

Ladies and gentlemen,

hello out there.

Can we have some waves?

Yes, I saw one wave,

so I know you're hearing me,

yeah, everybody.

Our guest tonight

is Sheila Turner,

who is currently

at Scholastic magazine.

She has been working

on film scripts

matched with the words

of the famous photographers.

Sheila, I know you were

a newspaper woman.

[Sheila] Right, early on, I

started getting sent to places

where I had to take

my own pictures,

which is something

I hadn't done before.

So, I took a few courses

around New York,

and I started seeing

that photographers

were really about the most

interesting artists around.

One morning, I just had

this idea that,

because of filmstrips

being what they are

and because of sound

being what it is,

it's a really easy way to get

a photographer's presence

into the classroom because...

She's kind of flirty.

[gentle music playing]

Self-possessed.

[Joseph] She's beautiful, babe,

just like you.

It's just weird,

it's really weird to watch it.

[Joseph] What are you doing

stopping it?

I am processing it.

Every once in a very long while,

I'll have a dream where

my mother is talking to me.

It happened a few days ago.

She called me on the phone.

And, usually, what happens

is she fades away after.

It's like I can't reach her.

[Joseph] But do you remember

what she was...

I don't remember what she was

telling me in that.

[Joseph] Did she call you,

or you call her?

I don't remember,

but she's always

very distant in the dream.

It's like I can't reach her.

What kind of phone is it?

Babe, I don't know

what kind of phone it is.

Let's go to what

we have to show.

We'll make this

the show-and-tell period.

The one you're going to see

is, um, Cartier-Bresson.

I guess it's the seventh one

I've done now.

He is perhaps the world's

preeminent photographer today.

-[man 6] Ms. Turner?

-Yes.

[man 6] Where did you

interview Mr. Bresson?

In his living room.

-That's a good question.

-Which is where?

On the Rue de Rivoli

in Paris, hm.

Bresson eight.

[Henri] Let's go outside.

[Sheila] Okay.

This will be a very good test.

-[birds chirping]

-[children shouting]

[Henri]

[Sheila]

[Henri, in French]

[doorbell ringing]

-[Martine] Hello.

-[Rachel] Bonjour, it's Rachel.

[Martine] Hi, Rachel.

[door buzzing]

[Rachel] Around 1970 or 1971,

my mother came,

I believe it was

to this apartment.

Indeed, it was, yes,

Sheila came right here, yeah.

I've always considered

that interview

that your mother did with Henri

as being the best.

[projector clicking]

[Sheila] Is it too simple

to talk in a way

of the photography, in a way,

saving seconds of time?

[Henri] There's only two thing,

it's an instant.

An eternity,

in between, there's nothing.

L'instant, how do you say that

in English?

The instant.

[Sheila] Have you ever thought,

when you have

this body of work

that you're going

to leave someday,

is there something that

you want it to say as a whole?

I certainly remember

meeting your mother

and finding her very maternal

and very understanding

and allowing Henri just to...

just to talk.

[contemplative music playing]

[Sheila] I was thinking

when I was looking at,

you know, just trying

to understand something

from your pictures

that there's a sense

of what happened before

and what's gonna happen after

in a lot of the pictures.

[Henri] It's a problem of time.

Time.

It is a fundamental thing.

It's a fight with time.

Life is very fluid.

Well, sometimes,

pictures disappear,

and there's nothing you can do,

you can't tell the person,

"Oh, please smile again,

do that gesture again."

There's no repetition.

Life is once forever.

Just so that I have

a memory of you.

[camera shutter clicking]

[Henri] Life changes

every minute.

The world is being created

every minute,

and the world is falling

to pieces every minute.

Death is present everywhere.

As soon as we're born.

And it is

a very beautiful thing...

[speaking French]

...what is tragic in life.

'cause there's always two pulls

and one cannot exist

without the other one.

So, these tensions

I'm always moved by.

[man] Has it changed your life

to work with these men

and on this project?

I've stopped taking pictures.

-That's really what's happened.

-[man 5] That's a good idea.

The world may have lost

a great photographer.

[Sheila] Well...

[Rachel] When you interviewed

Henri Cartier-Bresson,

you called yourself

an amateur photographer.

[soft music playing]

[Sheila] An amateur.

Someone like me

would take a picture

even if we're not sure.

[Rachel] But looking

at your pictures...

I saw your vision

starting to form.

[plane whizzing]

Then I learned,

after one particular adventure,

your work landed on

the front cover of newspapers

around the world.

[sounds of the street]

"I watched Egypt's

farewell to President Nasser

from the roof

of a railroad station

in Ramses Square in Cairo."

[shouting]

"When I arrived at 7:30 a.m.,

thousands of persons

were already waiting."

"Now they tried

every possible perch."

[shouting]

"On buildings, light poles,

and in the square itself."

[shouting]

"By 10:00 a.m., the square

was packed with humans."

"They appeared as one

giant living organism

with millions of flickering

dots and strips...

[shouting]

[Rachel] ...like a cell

under a microscope."

"The coffin,

a simple yellow box,

finally passed through

shortly after noon."

"Got arrested four times

for picture taking."

"Did manage to sell one photo

to AP of Nasser's brother

being carried off

from the coffin."

"And I was the only one

to get that photo."

"There's a freelance cameraman

here named Eric."

"Works mostly for Nat Geo,

CBS, BBC."

"Saw my very presence

as competition."

"He made remarks like,

'Don't get your skirt

caught in the cameras.'"

"I look at TV crews."

"At least they work together."

"But no women."

"I sure like the team idea."

"It's damn lonely out here."

[man on PA] Attention,

the [indistinct] taxi station

is located along the sidewalk

between Exit 8...

[indistinct]

[Rachel] I did find

a camera guy.

It turns out I like

the team idea, too.

Hold on, don't move,

don't move.

I'm gonna get a picture of this.

[indistinct lyrics]

-[laughing]

-[indistinct]

[soft, mellow music playing]

[laughing]

[Rachel] Joseph and I eloped.

[indistinct chatter]

And this is footage

of our tiny courthouse wedding.

[whistling]

My friend Katie,

also a filmmaker,

was my only guest.

Looking back, I'm not sure

if I asked her to sh**t

so I'd have a memento

of my wedding...

We got married today.

[Rachel] ...or to have footage

for this film.

On our honeymoon in Cuba,

I spent a lot

of my time alone...

while Joseph was off

taking his own pictures.

The camera was always present.

[Joseph] She doesn't stop

with the filming.

[honking]

[Sheila] Gonna ask you why

you chose to come to New York.

[harp music playing]

Can you say something

about that?

[Rachel] You moved to New York

to run away from your family.

And I moved here to find you.

[Sheila] Did you find anything

you hadn't expected to find?

[Rachel] Right after

I got here,

I went to your

apartment building

to imagine what your life

in New York was like.

[projector clicking]

[Sheila] Did it touch a chord

in you in any way?

[camera shutter clicking]

[Rachel] It did.

'Cause when I found

your photos...

I saw we'd been standing

in the same place.

It's really amazing.

-Hello.

-Hi, Bruce.

-Hi, good to see you.

-How are you?

So, how long have you lived

in this building?

Oh, over 40 years.

Okay. So, when my mother

interviewed you,

-was it in here?

-Yeah, yeah.

Oh, how cool.

I would sit here,

and Sheila would sit there.

[Sheila] You always are

a foreigner

in the places you go into.

[soft music playing]

[Bruce] I always used to say

I was an outsider

on the inside.

Each person has to find

their own way

of experiencing the world.

Photography is my way.

You have a lot

of your mother in you,

'cause I just, I was thinking

your mother was very soothing.

She was like...

like you're in therapy

of some kind.

[Sheila] What was comforting

to you about being alone?

What was... what was...

what was in that?

[Bruce] I think

with photography,

one can communicate

to themselves.

You kind of make a portrait

of yourself

every time you make a portrait.

[Sheila] Did you find out

that you could do anything

that you hadn't known

that you could do?

[Bruce] I think probably one

of the most dangerous things

that one can do

is to look at themselves.

The fear is a fear of finding

one's own inner personal truth.

[clicking]

[mellow music playing]

[Rachel] "January 5th, 1972."

[stylus scratching]

"Quite a year, actually."

[indistinct chatter]

"Two New York Times stories."

"Two Time Life books."

"And two men

who think they love me."

"I realize my people are here,

for better or worse."

[telephone ringing]

[Lael] She was in

with the advertising crowd,

and she knew a lot of writers,

people from The New York Times.

It was really exciting.

She just knew everybody

in the trades, you know,

from journalism, photography,

yeah, that was

kind of a little circle there.

And then Gordon Parks

came along.

[d*ck] She got in touch

with Gordon Parks,

and she convinced him to do

some projects for Scholastic,

including a long interview.

[soft reverberation]

[Sheila] This is Sheila Turner

of Scholastic Scope magazine.

Gordon Parks says

he always has been a dreamer.

When he was growing up

in Kansas, in the 1920s,

he dreamed of being

a famous magazine photographer.

Then, he dreamed of making

a Hollywood movie.

He was just finishing

the movie

when I visited with him

in the Warner Brothers

restaurant.

Do you think that kids now

have more opportunities

than when you were growing up?

[Gordon] I think,

certainly, they have

many more opportunities.

I went to Life 21 years ago,

Life magazine,

which was unheard of

of a Black man being hired

for a major magazine,

but again, I walked

into that organization

forgetting I was Black,

and I certainly can't pass

for white, you see?

I suppose I astounded them,

you know, with my brashness

of my capabilities

and potentials as I told them

and that there would be

a great luxury

if they turned me down.

And they took me up on it,

and there I was, you know,

launched 20 years

before, really, my time.

[indistinct chatter]

[Lael] They were very close.

She interviewed the most famous

photographers in the world.

And, sometimes,

those relationships

went well beyond the interview.

[stylus scratching]

[Rachel] "January 5th, 1972."

[soft music playing]

"Posed for Gordon Parks."

"He's using the photo of me

on the cover of his next book."

[stylus scratching]

"Mixed feelings about results."

I set out

to find these photos

that Parks took of you,

but there was no record

of your name

in any of his books

or archives.

After months of searching,

I finally found you

by the sight

of your dark-brown hair

and tall frame.

I grew up admiring

Parks' photos

of the Civil Rights movement

and so many other

historical milestones.

So, I was surprised to find

that amongst his photos...

were pictures of you.

You were one of 25 nameless,

faceless women in the book.

I imagine you might have felt

flattered at being asked,

but that had also reinforced

the idea for you

that your value

was in your body.

[stylus scratching]

[Rachel] "I feel

an incompatibility

between femininity

and competence."

"I have the feeling that

I'll never be perfectly happy."

"Am I just inadequate

for the world

I want to move in?"

" Revealing myself scares me."

"What am I hiding?"

As near as I could see,

all the guys

that she was dating,

none of 'em quite measured up

to d*ck Roberts.

-[honking]

-[stylus scratching]

[Rachel] "November 10th, 1970."

"Life will get hectic now."

[paper rustling]

"Many other men appearing

at the fringes."

-[chuckling]

-[camera shutter clicking]

[glasses clinking]

"d*ck has a lot of work planned

with a lot of travel,

and I'm hooked."

[camera shutter clicking]

"I'll try to enjoy it

without crossing the line."

-[distant telephone ringing]

-[camera shutter clicking]

"I must, or I must leave."

[camera shutter clicking]

"I work till the end,

hoping I'll be alone with him."

[camera shutter clicking]

"Then, he leaves

a terrible emptiness."

[soft piano music playing]

Did you ever get the sense

that she was interested in you

more than just that?

Well, I think we were, you know,

connected emotionally.

I admired her,

and she was fun,

and she had a lot of drive.

There certainly was

some chemistry there.

[Lael] Did you know Gabriel?

[Rachel] No.

[Lael] Gabriel was

a good Jewish boy

she was supposed to marry.

[man 7] We met on a bike trip

to Long Island.

We must have been riding

close to each other,

because she fell off her bike.

And so, I stopped,

and, uh, I, uh,

helped her dust herself and,

and get back on the bike,

and this is how--how we

kind of started to talk.

Sheila was my best friend.

She was, uh, a partner to me.

But, uh, she didn't have

any home obligation.

We kind of lived our lives

from day to day.

We never talked

about future plans.

These are fabulous.

These three pictures

are of a vacation

that we spent

on the island of St. Maarten.

This is me as the captain.

[Gabriel chuckles]

[waves softly breaking]

[Rachel] "December 25th, 1968."

"Up at 6:00 a.m.

for Christmas."

"Don't know what I want yet

this year."

"My mood is extreme

vacillation."

"I told him

I could never commit myself."

"Though he's a really nice,

solid guy,

he just doesn't fit

with my idea of who I am."

"Whatever that means."

[Gabriel] The end of '71,

Sheila became pregnant.

And, uh, she told me

that she wanted to--

to undergo an ab*rtion.

I wasn't exactly

in favor of the ab*rtion.

That more or less brought

our relationship to an end.

[Rachel] How did that

affect you?

[sighs]

It, uh...

it hurt.

[pensive music playing]

I took it harder than she did.

[Rachel] And did you ever have

children after that?

No. No.

'Cause I, I didn't get married,

and, uh, no.

Happy birthday

Dear Auntie Rachie

Happy birthday to you

Yay! Thank you, Jude,

that was so sweet!

[Rachel]

[Rachel] In my own life,

I've had complicated feelings

about motherhood.

Joseph wanted a family

from day one.

But I wasn't so sure.

I don't have a feeling of safety

in having children.

I feel like,

if my mother was here,

then she would help me

transition into being a mother.

[Joseph]

I haven't made--

[Joseph]

Babe, I didn't say that.

[singing in Hebrew]

[Rachel] On one hand,

I desperately wanted a family.

On the other,

I was plagued by the fear

of leaving them behind.

And beyond that,

the tensions

in our relationship

made me question

whether we should take

that next step together.

[soft roar of plane's engines]

So, I flew out to L.A.

to get some space

to sort out my mind...

and to finish this film.

[man 8] And action!

[Rachel] Pretty soon,

I realized

I didn't wanna go back.

-[Joseph] Do you love me?

-Yep.

Then, after five years

of marriage...

Joseph and I separated.

[staticky hum]

[Sheila] All right.

This is a test.

We are trying

to get rid of a buzz,

a bug and a buzz.

What do you see

as your own future plan,

if you really had your way?

-[William] Suicide.

-[laughter]

[Sheila] Any idea what direction

you wanna take yourself in?

[William] I never used to worry

or really think about it.

I guess lately,

I'd have to admit

I'm a little more concerned.

The travel involved

in being a photographer

has become wearisome.

[crossing bell clangs faintly]

I'm tired of motels

and getting on airplanes.

I'm tired of being lonely.

[Sheila] I wonder

if it's growth,

you know, I mean, if it's

a kind of personal maturity

that gives your own private

life more richness,

and then you don't seek so much

from outside, I wonder.

[William] Yeah.

Because I know, just recently,

I've needed that relationship

with my family

so much more so

than ever before.

I guess I've realized

how much time has gone by.

And if this stops me

from growing as a photographer,

I'd be willing to pay

that price,

because photography,

it's what I do,

but it is not totally me.

[machine clicks off]

Give me the box.

[Rachel] I shall, in a moment.

[Brian] "Letters to Sheila,"

that's my writing, so.

[Rachel] Can I see?

[Brian] "Where to begin?"

"Though my head has been

full of thoughts of you

and for you

during the past few days,

recollecting these thoughts

for a letter never seems easy."

"What is good about New York

is you."

"I feel that I can be

close to you,

and I like what I see

when I am close to you."

"In all of the important ways,

you are both virtuous

and beautiful."

Very romantic.

Well, I was-- I was

very romantic with her, I was.

[Rachel] "January 23rd, 1972."

"Letter from Brian."

"I have much doubt and fear."

"He's a luxury

designed for good times."

"Gabriel would be better

for a w*r, probably."

"Vaguely, I feel Gabriel

is good in the way

that my family has taught me

to think is good."

"But I need more than

my family as well, somehow."

"I do want to be a mother,

as common as that activity is."

"Question is, will I continue

to grow as a writer,

editor, photographer?"

"Will I want to?"

[soft music playing]

Press play.

Wherever play is, in here.

[Rachel] It's in the middle--

no, no, no.

Oh--there, yeah,

all right, okay.

Who's that? That looks

like you, but it's not.

[Rachel] No, this is 1948

or something.

-There's my mother.

-[Brian] Where?

[Rachel] Right there.

Blowing out the candles.

-[Brian] Not your mother.

-[Rachel] Yes, it is!

[Brian] No, it isn't;

it looks like you.

-[Rachel] Well, it's her.

-[Brian] God, it looks like you.

They're having a g*y old time,

aren't they?

[Rachel] So, what do you think

of looking at that footage?

Well, I hope there's more;

I find it fun.

[Rachel] Fun?

It's not emotional to see it?

[Brian] Not really, no; heck,

I mean, it's too far back now.

Oh, it's our wedding day,

I do believe.

[Rachel] Who's

that handsome guy?

[Brian] Oh, my God,

he's looking pretty young.

His hair's a bit wild even then.

[indistinct chatter]

[wistful music playing]

There's the camper

that we took off in.

[Brian chuckles]

Bloody thing broke down after

'bout a couple hundred miles

out of Chicago.

[cork pops]

[chatter, laughter]

[engine puttering]

[faint traffic noises]

[Rachel] Not long after

I filmed this scene,

I learned Dad's memory

was starting to fade.

And as that's happened,

I see him hanging on

only to the good times,

even mentally rewriting

his own story

to avoid the pain of his past.

Memories are subjective,

more influenced

by feelings than facts.

Is a photograph actually

a record of something?

Or is it meaningless

without our interpretation?

[Sheila] But isn't it true

that sometimes,

you're feeling something,

and somehow,

it doesn't really

come across in the pictures?

[shutter snapping,

faint conversation]

[mechanical whirring]

[machinery beeping]

[faint cries of baby]

[soft, wondrous music playing]

[baby babbling]

[Sheila] Well, we are now

on Friday night, yes.

[baby babbles]

Yeah! You threw your duckie

out of the bathtub!

[baby fussing]

It's okay, oh!

Do you have anything to say

to Grandpa or to Grandma?

[baby babbling]

What's up, sweetheart?

Are you tired? Do you want

to go back to your sleep?

[Rachel] Do you think

she ever knew

that there was a chance

that she might get sick,

or that she had--

[d*ck] Yes. She definitely knew

that this was a possibility.

It was genetic.

Your grandmother had had

a similar incident,

or there was something

in the family.

But I remember Sheila telling me

that, you know, "I could

be walking across the street

and die right on the spot."

She told me that.

[Rachel] "April 8th, 1979.

London."

"We have Rachel,

one and a half."

"Rachel is still perfect,

the age of human perfection."

"Probably all downhill

from here."

"Tomorrow, we leave

for one year in the U.S."

"I need it."

"Dislike England."

"I need the energy and openness

of my world at home."

[Sheila] What's the matter?

You want me to talk to you

and not to the tape recording?

[Rachel] "How we'll manage that

is not yet figured out,

and Brian and I

must find some luck

that will keep our temperaments

from destroying each other."

[Brian] No, it does

have to stay behind the back.

[Sheila] It's so close,

you'll hear

distortion in your voice.

[Brian] Yeah. Okay.

We take your word for it,

but I think you're wrong.

[Rachel] "I have

to start writing again,

to get back into my own skin."

"Images of Man

has been a great success

and has given me

a certain amount of prestige

in the photographic world."

"I hope we can do good work,

still be parents to our kid,

still like each other,

and come back with enough work

to keep us afloat

for the foreseeable future."

[film projector clicking]

[Sheila] Bresson 10.

[Henri] Excuse me,

what did you ask me?

[Sheila] About-- we should

talk perhaps a little bit

about your philosophy

about your tools.

[machine clicks off]

[Henri] It can be a sketchbook,

the camera.

And even for me, that's

strictly my way of feeling.

I enjoy sh**ting a picture,

being present.

It's a way of saying,

"Yes! Yes, yes."

[tranquil music playing]

[Rachel] Your programs

won many awards...

and were the first

of their kind to feature

photographers' philosophies

paired with their images.

But when I look closely,

your credit was hard to find...

and your voice was missing.

[projector clicks]

So, I imagine your work

on the stage it deserved.

[Lisette] My name is

Lisette Model.

I'm a photographer

and a teacher in photography.

The camera is

an instrument of detection.

We photograph what we know,

and also what we don't know.

And when I point

my camera at something,

I'm asking a question.

In the photograph

sometimes is the answer.

[Sheila] I think, in a sense,

it's what I'm always

trying to get at,

is why certain pictures

really are certain

photographers' pictures,

and why you know

that the pictures were made

with the same head

and the same pair of eyes,

and the same feelings.

[Lisette] You know, Sheila,

you have a genius

of asking questions

one can't answer.

It's like,

if you want to explain

the quintessence

of what you are.

You can't.

Maybe you shouldn't, even.

[Lael] I had been

talking to her

the day before she died.

[clicking of film projector]

Brian was comin' in,

and she had an assignment

for Scholastic.

And she'd locked herself

out of the car

with the car running.

And she had

this screaming headache

that would not go away.

She said she'd never had

anything like it.

Life had taken

so many different turns,

and it was a moment

when she was very apprehensive.

[wind faintly gusting]

[papers crinkling]

[Brian]

"Mrs. Sheila Turner-Seed, 42,

freelance writer

and film editor,

died of a cerebral hemorrhage

Thursday in Evanston Hospital."

[paper crinkling]

It's the 22nd of June,

and shortly,

I will be going

to the memorial service

and the funeral for Sheila.

[rabbi] As we now ask

the family to please rise

and to recite Kaddish.

[rabbi, mourners

recite in Hebrew]

[Rachel] Seeing the photograph

of myself

standing next to your grave,

I can't even look

at that picture.

It's a memory I don't have

and I don't want.

[faint birdsong]

Too hard for words.

And it's a great big

bloody shame

that sometimes, the best people

get taken early, you know?

So.

That's-- Sheila, my love,

I wish you were here still.

Very lovely woman.

A very lovely woman.

Much missed.

[man 8] Is everyone ready

on camera?

[cameraman] Ready, got the shot.

[man 9] Okay, we're open up

on camera.

Let's do it. Showtime!

[woman 5] And places.

[Sheila] Does the world

look different to you now?

[Rachel] People say

I remind them of you.

[contemplative music playing]

And when I meet people

you were close to...

I feel close to them, too.

Like I'm looking

through your eyes.

[Sheila] How do you keep

your own perspective?

[Rachel] In a lot of ways,

my obsession with this story

has kept me stuck in the past.

It meant giving up so much

that was important to me.

[Sheila] You invested

more in this project

than any other

you've ever done.

Do you have any idea why?

[Rachel] I had no choice.

How could I know myself

if I didn't know you?

[Sheila] Well,

at a certain point,

you have to live your own life.

[inaudible]

I suppose that

I'm really asking,

did you finish it,

in your own mind?

[Rachel] Well,

I'll always miss you.

[film projector clicking]

Now I have a picture of you.

And I no longer feel

like I have to look back.

[projector clicks off]

This is something, this'll

be good, you'll like it.

No matter what kind of format

you're working in,

you're gonna have

some kinds of limitations.

And the thing is,

within those limitations,

there are-- there's

an infinite variety of things.

You don't wanna have all the

possibilities in the world,

you'd go outta your mind,

you couldn't, anyway.

Well, okay.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we're coming up to time,

so, we'll look forward

to seeing you two weeks hence.

We'll say goodnight for now.

[show's pop

theme music playing]

[gasps] That's the whole thing?

Aww!

I feel sad

that that's the whole thing.

-[man 9] It's not enough.

-It's not enough.

I don't want an hour and a half,

I want,

you know, a year, 10 years,

20 years, 30 years.

[mournful music playing]

In a way, it makes it harder...

to know more of, like,

what it was that I missed.

[inaudible]

[liquid gently sloshing]

[music intensifies, distorts]

[Sheila] Do you know

what you want to do now?

[distorted ambient

music playing]

[gentle music playing]

[Eliot] Small plant

comes up in the spring,

then it blooms,

and then it goes to seed,

and then it dies.

This isn't the end of it.

This is just-- this isn't

the beginning, either.

It's a continuing process.

There was a very

close relationship

between life and death.

And the death itself

was just the beginning

of some new kind of growth.

[Sheila] Yes, and in a way,

I suppose it gets

too philosophical,

but, almost,

a picture takes on

another kind of life

because of what happens

afterward, sometimes.

[Sheila laughs] Okay, well,

thank you very much,

I think we got plenty.