In a hotel room on Sutter Street, a few blocks from the Hyatt, a young photographer and graphic design duo fabricate a fake pass to the SPE conference. The pass has my name on it. I can now go anywhere.
I gain entry and cross paths with strangers who feel like immediate family:
Emma Kisiel,
Daniel Evan Garza,
Nate Larson,
Richard Kelly,
Sandra Lee Phipps,
Forest McMullin...and more people, just little time.
There at the bar, curiously enough, is the braintrust of Duncan Channon Advertising. What are they doing here? All the guys I photographed in a fight
HERE are there. For a moment I'm confused by these worlds intersecting.
Then...at 7:00pm, we gather to hear Sally Mann speak. The mother of all mother photographers, here, and everyone acknowledges her contribution. Enthusiasm is high as the masses fill the ballroom.
She is introduced, she speaks. Photographs dot the lecture, a reading from a memoir she is writing, with a series grouped at the end. Last slide, thank you, the lights go up. No questions, no answers.
Why would she not want to hear from the masses? They adore her. She has no enemies. This is the shape the lecture had taken. We accept it. We exit.