I was born in Manhattan and began my education at Dalton, finishing with a BA from Columbia College. As a New York fashion photographer and magazine publisher I spent my earliest years focusing on direct and accurate depictions of models and apparel. Garment industry customers wanted me to show the key details of the garments accurately and make everything look as conventionally attractive as possible. I produced many millions of images over three decades under these conventions.

But a few of the objects I started to make in 1992 used a camera in an opposite manner, to search for something unpredictable. I began to photograph the reflections ­­— in distorted mirrored surfaces — of humans or found items. This process allows me to see, as I move around the subject, a continuous stream of images that I may choose to capture, or not, as they appear in the camera viewfinder. This tool twists the results off into unpredictable and unexpected directions. It is not provided to me by AI.

In one recent series, Assassins, I start with early found photographs of assassins, or accused assasins. For example, an early school photo.  Might there be something in my resultant image that suggests their future behavior.

For “Lance n.5” I used the same process to examine the cover of Texas Monthly from July 2001, which included an heroic photo of a grinning Lance Armstrong by David LaChapelle. The cover heralded the lead article in which Armstrong claimed he was not using performance-enhancing drugs. Many years later, on July 17, 2013, the cyclist admitted that he had, indeed, been using banned drugs since late spring of 1995.

A new series, AI Eating, explores the impact of Artificial Intelligence on humans by combining original photograph archivaly printed on canvas, with collaged, hand cut and painted pieces of canvas. Comments from various AI personalities are juxtaposed on printed and painted strips.

Yawn Research starts with humans yawning ­­— reflections of which I have been able to catch at random, also photographed in distorted mirrored surfaces. I then contrast the resultant images with printed comments or research about yawns from various researchers or pundits.

Pix vs. Stix, a series started during the pandemic, combines painted figures of humans with photographs of humans ­­— reflections of which I photographed in distorted mirrored surfaces, and archivaly printed on canvas. The series explores the competition, for me, between photographic pixels and the images that come from paint brushes.

I also enjoy using my process to do commissioned portraits.