$50.00 U.S. (trade discount)
No e-book has been authorized.
Hardcover with jacket
200 pages with 112 color photographs by the author
10.0″ x 11.0″ upright/portrait
ISBN: 978–1–938086–05–2
Published in Fall 2012
Distributed by Casemate/IPM
www.casemateipm.com
Published in association with the National Fatherhood Initiative.
Events
April 11, 2013 from 5-7:00p.m.
Mt. Sinai Adolescent Health Center
320 East 94th St, 2nd Flr, New York City
Author Talk and Book Signing
November 27, 2012
IIT Institute of Design, Nathan Room, 6th Floor of ID Chicago, IL
Choosing Fatherhood: America’s Second Chance: A Visual Ethnography and Appeal
May 16, 2012
Congressional Meeting Room #125 South at the Capitol Visitor’s Center, Washington, DC
National Fatherhood Initiative hosts a Congressional hearing.
Exhibitions
Spring 2015
The Gage Gallery at Roosevelt University, Chicago, IL
March 2 – June 2, 2013
Opening Reception: Saturday, March 2
Loyola University Museum of Art, Chicago, IL
Choosing Fatherhood – The Photographic Journey
January 2013
Friday, January 11, 2013
Opening Reception
The Leica Rangefinder Gallery, Chicago
University of Chicago Radio Interview with Lewis Kostiner
by Lewis Kostiner
with an introduction by Juan Williams and essays by David Travis, Shipra S. Parikh, Roland C. Warren, and Derrick M. Bryan
Winner of a 2013 Independent Publisher Book Award: The Bronze Medal in the Parenting Category.
Families come in all sizes, shapes, and traditions, each a unique variation of a universal human theme. Whether one comes from a heterosexual, single-sex, or one-parent home, stability and love are paramount. Unfortunately, in the United States, the absence of fathers from their children’s lives has become a real problem. In fact, the Brookings Institute has identified absentee fathers as among America’s most pressing problems—as important as the economy, education, the environment, health care, infrastructure, you name it. Why? Because nearly every social ill finds its roots in the fatherless home.
Choosing Fatherhood: America’s Second Chance is meant to explore this issue as no previous book has. And it does so through the art of photography, in which Lewis Kostiner makes portraits of dads who are involved in their childrens’ lives. The book is also accompanied by informative essays by Juan Williams, of Fox News; David Travis, who was Curator of Photography at the Art Institute of Chicago from 1975–2008; Shipra S. Parikh, a licensed clinical social worker who also teaches and conducts research at the University of Chicago and Loyola University in Chicago; Roland C. Warren, the former president of the National Fatherhood Initiative, a nonprofit organization dedicated to enhancing fatherhood in America, who also served on President Obama’s task force on responsible fatherhood; and Derrick M. Bryan, a sociologist at the Morehouse College.
Getting fathers to be more involved in their children’s lives is of paramount importance, if America is to regain ground as an international leader. Right now, the statistics look grim: forty years ago only eleven percent of America’s children lived in homes without fathers, but today more than a third do: more than 24,000,000! This translates into high poverty rates, high drop-out rates in high school, high rates of incarceration, multiple behavioral problems, and the list of social ills goes on.
As President Obama has declared, fatherhood does not begin with conception but with the responsibilities that come with creating and caring for a human life. Although changes in custody rulings and other policy remedies are possible, behavioral patterns are often outside the reach of policy. Choosing Fatherhood offers a hopeful direction that America does have a second chance at correcting a troubling trend, but time is slipping, and awareness of the problem is an important start.
Within twenty-four hours of the broadcast on Fox News, Lewis Kostiner’s book, Choosing Fatherhood: America’s Second Chance, had risen to #10 in viewings on Amazon for photography books.
“As the son of a single mom who gave everything she had to raise me, with the help of my grandparents, you know, I turned out O.K. [Nonetheless] I wish I had had a father who was around and involved.” –President Barack Obama, as quoted in “In Chicago, Policy Speech By Obama Gets Personal” by Jackie Calmes,The New York Times (February 16, 2013): A11.
About
About the Author
Lewis Kostiner was born in Montréal, Québec, Canada, in 1950 and was raised in Montréal before his family moved to Westbury, Long Island, in 1962. He earned his B.A. in liberal arts, with an emphasis in photography and creative writing, at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island, where he also studied at the Rhode Island School of Design with Aaron Siskind, Harry Callahan, and Emmit Gowen. He completed his M.S. in photography at the Institute of Design at Illinois Institute of Technology in Chicago, where he studied with Arthur Siegel, Garry Winogrand, and Geoff Winningham. After he left Brown, he assisted Aaron Siskind for many years and traveled with him worldwide. From 1973 to 1981 he was an adjunct professor of photography at Columbia College Chicago, and he is currently a faculty member in the Department of Photography at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. His photographs are in the permanent collections of, and have been exhibited at, the Art Institute of Chicago, Center for Creative Photography, Museum of Contemporary Photography, and Museum of Modern Art, among many others. Lewis is married to Anne Neri Kostiner, and they have two daughters, Rickie and Tess.
www.lewiskostiner.com
About the Essayists
Juan Williams is a journalist, political analyst for Fox News Channel, and the author of eight books, including Muzzled: The Assault on Honest Debate (Random House, 2011), Thurgood Marshall: American Revolutionary (Three Rivers, 2000), and Eyes on the Prize: America’s Civil Rights Years, 1954-1965 (Penguin, 1988), which was a companion to the Emmy Award-winning PBS series.
Roland C. Warren is the past president of National Fatherhood Initiative, a nonprofit organization dedicated to improving the well-being of children through education and the promotion of active and responsible fatherhood. He recently served on President Obama’s task force on responsible fatherhood.
David Travis was the founding Curator of Photography at the Art Institute of Chicago from 1975 to 2008, where he curated more than 150 photography exhibitions, many of which traveled internationally. His many books include Karsh: Beyond the Camera (Godine, 2012), At the Edge of Light: Thoughts on Photographers and Photography, on Talent and Genius (Godine, 2003), and Edward Weston: The Last Years in Carmel (The Art Institute of Chicago, 2001).
Shipra S. Parikh Ph.D. and L.C.S.W., is a researcher and psychotherapist in private practice, specializing in children and families. She serves as an academic advisor and adjunct professor at Loyola University Chicago and the University of Chicago. Her research publications in the area of fatherhood include The Other Parent: A Historical Policy Analysis of Teen Fathers (Praxis, 2005) and Validating Reciprocity: Supporting Young Fathers’ Continued Involvement with their Children (Families in Society, 2009).
Derrick M. Bryan is an assistant professor of sociology at Morehouse College. He received his Ph.D. in sociology from Ohio State University, and his current research and teaching focus on both men and families and the social, emotional, cultural, and psychological consequences of racial oppression and social inequality for persons of color (in particular, African-American males) in various domains in society (in particular, crime, education, family, and work).
Slide Show
Marvin Bynam, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin, with his wife and son. (© Lewis Kostiner)Marvin Bynam and his wife were law school students in Milwaukee. They lived in a small Milwaukee-style brick bungalow. The first floor was full of Prairie Style wood moldings and furniture. It was dark, and it would have been difficult to make a picture down there. Upstairs the light poured in, and, as we wandered around the rooms, next to the tub in the bathroom there was this beautiful and rich natural light. I had the family stand there. Marvin was a bit nervous and hadn’t exactly figured out what I was doing and why I was there. I asked him to feed their baby while I made the picture. He was focused on me and at the same time concerned about his child. They were just such a complete couple. Lots of positive vibes and love infused the aura of the home. Marvin’s wife hardly said a word, but in this image one can clearly see the depth of her wisdom. She was proud of Marvin and certain that their child would do well in life with their support. 
Wade Antener, of Colorado Springs, Colorado. (© Lewis Kostiner)Landing in Denver all I could think of was, Could I get a shot of one of the fathers with Pike’s Peak in the background? This was paramount in my thoughts, since Colorado Springs was my destination. Pike’s Peak brought me back to my childhood memories of the song “Sweet Betsy From Pike,” a tune that has stayed with me. As kids we all wanted to be pioneers. So taking Wade Antener out to an open space by the highway with the mountain as a backdrop was an easy thing for me to arrange. Wade was all the more obliging, and his young teen-age daughter watched as I photographed her dad and she held on to their little black dog. Wade and I talked. I asked him what he did. He said whatever it takes. Two jobs now, many hours each day. His primary work was as a cook. He told me he worked to help his daughter so that one day she would fly over that mountain and have a wonderful life somewhere else. It’s funny how positive one can be, like Wade, when the only real choice we have is to take care of our responsibilities as a parent, as a father. I understood what he meant when he said this to me. The shoot didn’t last too long; Wade had to get back to work. 
Marvin Charles, of Seattle, Washington, with his wife, son, and father. (© Lewis Kostiner)Marvin Charles had a wonderful little office in downtown Seattle. He met us there, and we passed a good deal of time with Marvin traveling through the city. He spent most of his time keeping tabs on all the fathers and children in the National Fatherhood Initiative program whom he helped in his district. He picked them up and dropped them off and told them how to do this and how to do that. He never looked down on any of them, and his presence helped organize and prepare the children for their everyday journeys and, for the men, fatherhood. His clients struggled daily to survive, and he knew it. He did what he could to help them along. I photographed Marvin and his wife, son, and father right after the Presidential election of 2008. During Obama’s run for office, I heard many times that he was a community organizer. In Chicago, where I am from, that usually means you help get the vote out. But Marvin was a real community organizer, in the true sense. He was not out there to get votes but to help kids and their dads. In his son’s eyes, Marvin could easily have been elected Mayor of Seattle. Marvin carried his family’s picture around with him all day long on his T-shirt, right in front of his heart. 
Joshua Chiles, of Des Moines, Iowa, with his daughters. (© Lewis Kostiner)As we stood out in the cold on the edge of Des Moines, I realized that this city is much smaller than I imagined. Joshua Chiles’s girls took us to this spot for the photo and spent most of their time arranging the picture, so that, of course, their father would look nice in the scene. Having two daughters of my own, I completely understood what was going on. When I saw Joshua standing there in the frame, I realized that this person could be me, was me. His daughters were the exact age difference as mine. The younger was clearly the boss, and the older one offered, for her age, astute guidance. Joshua (as in my case, too) allowed them the joy of ordering him around. He was doing what a father should do, I thought; he was empowering his children at his expense. As we left, one of the girls rolled up her pant leg and showed me her artificial leg, which she put on display in a wholly uninhibited fashion. Joshua must have taught her to not be ashamed of this, and he taught her well. 
Jonathon Coughlin, of Manhattan, Kansas, with his family. (© Lewis Kostiner)It was hard to imagine that, just a few miles from this serene picnic pond next to the U.S. Army base at Fort Riley, troops were training rigorously before they were sent off to fight in Iraq and Afghanistan. They were all members of the 1st Army Brigade. It was a strangely quiet and removed landscape. Jonathon Coughlin’s family was what I always imagined the perfect American family to be: three boys and two girls and a loving mother. Jonathon had two families, however, though he was proud of each. Of course, his children were his family, and he lit up whenever they ran in and out of my picture field. He would kindly let them know that they needed to behave. The boys grew restless as the twin girls took it all in. Rarely would a photographer be given the gift of photographing a family such as this. You could tell that, with Jonathon and his wife in their lives, these kids were going to do well. Jonathon was also a father to the soldiers under his command. He lamented to me that, in many ways, they had to come first, sometimes above his own family. His job was to train his troops well and keep them alive. He was so proud of them. They, too, were his children. When I left Fort Riley, I was so proud to be an American and happy I had a chance to meet and photograph Jonathon and his family. 
Vincent Escobendo, of San Antonio, Texas, with his father. (© Lewis Kostiner)Vincente Escobendo was either divorced or separated, or maybe he and his wife never were really together. I could not figure it out. I met him at his father’s house in an area near downtown San Antonio. The inside of the home smelled of burning candles and incense. There was a beautiful little memorial to his recently passed-away mother in the living room, on which his father kept vigil with brilliant candles. I never really knew if Vincente lived with his dad. My sense was he didn’t. His daughter offered me some peaches that she just cut up and was carrying around in a white bowl. I knew I had to make a photo of her alone with her peaches. What photographer could resist that? I took Vincente’s picture on the front porch. His father was sitting out there. I resorted to an old gimmick in portrait photography, as anyone can see. The sense that the viewer gets is that Vincente is the main feature and his dad is there to provide a connection. I soon realized that, what I had come upon, was the basic need of a father to have a father in his life. His daughter was part of the flow chart, from Vincente’s dad to him, to his daughter. The one person who stabilized everything in the household was Vincente’s father, yet I cut most of him away. I wonder why? Maybe this says something about my father and me. 
Steven Gonzales, of Sacramento, California, with his son. (© Lewis Kostiner)Steven Gonzales worked fourteen-hour days, seven days a week. He lived amongst the ghosts of bygone eras of vintage cars. Steven was the owner of the body shop that consumed him. He also was a father who taught his children by example. He told me that he regretted not being home for dinner every night, sometimes having to run out to give an estimate. He told me his heart hurt when he had to do this. Steven and his son took me on a tour of the body shop. We visited the paint shop, rich in the aroma of the freshly sprayed paint. His son was so proud of his dad. My presence with my camera made the young boy feel important. He knew his father to be a very special person and that I was sent there to take this famous person’s picture. Steven and his son posed so proudly in front of that blue, beat-up Cadillac. I envied that boy and the life he had with his father. When I was done, they gave me a red T-shirt with the name “RED STAR California Original” on the front of it. I felt as special as the son when I left. 
Kevin Hall, of New Orleans, Louisiana, with his son and daughter. (© Lewis Kostiner)Kevin Hall lived with his mother in one of the lower wards of New Orleans. It was clear to me from the outset that Kevin was confused and torn with regard to his fathering role with these two children whom he literally carried about. He was built like a linebacker and lived in a neighborhood still decimated by Hurricane Katrina. He didn’t talk much, and, when he did, it was just pleasantries of the day. His daughter was very curious, and his son seemed to question what I was doing and why I was there. It was as if Kevin knew that he had to be ready to have his picture taken with the kids but didn’t understand why. There was an old man across the road who engaged me a bit after the shoot. He told me that Kevin tried hard to be there for his kids, but in the big picture he was really confused about what he was supposed to do to be a father. . . he was so young. His children seemed to be unaware of just how bad things were around them. I knew at one time this neighborhood must have been teeming with life, but the houses were few and far between now. It was tough enough to survive there anyway, and the last thing they needed was the big storm. Kevin’s son seems to be saying, “What’s going on?” and his daughter seems to say, “I understand.” 
Michael Heniger, of Logan, Utah, with his family. (© Lewis Kostiner)I know this picture is just “Lewis, the Photographer” pretending to be Andrew Wyeth, and the little boy crawling away is really Christina in Wyeth’s famous painting. Michael Heniger is very short. I imagine that one day everyone in his family will be taller. They were all getting to his height when I stopped in. Through all the chaos in Michael’s house he remained calm. Each child had his or her own space and place to hang out. The household was nervous, to say the least. Amazingly, right behind the Henigers’ backyard was this huge park within view of the ski resorts to the west. What a dream for me. Michael and his wife rounded up the kids and had them all ready for the pose. Except for the little one. He was drifting away and out of the frame. Michael apologized profusely for his son’s lack of attention. I told him that his son knew the picture would be stronger if he was seen crawling away. Michael seems to tower over everyone. His pride at being chosen to participate in this project gave him pause, and Michael wanted me to know how important they all are to him, even when one is fleeing the scene. 
Shawn Kennedy, of Mobile, Alabama, with his daughter. (© Lewis Kostiner)Shawn Kennedy was an unexpected and pleasant surprise. He and his wife lived in a small and lovely vintage Southern-style bungalow in Mobile. I had spent a few days with his father-in-law, who was taking Milt Scott from the National Fatherhood Initiative and me around to meet the fathers in the area. Shawn had this beautiful baby girl in his arms, whom he carried with him all over the house. He even wore a shirt and tie for the picture. After I took the picture, I sat with him at his dining room table, and we talked. He said he was always open to learning how to become a better father. He told me had taken some classes with NFI and learned a great deal about small things about fatherhood he never thought about. He was very clear with me: his family’s faith in the Lord gave him the strength to be a good and loving dad. I imagined he would be, always. 
Robert Mirabal, of Taos Pueblo, New Mexico. (© Lewis Kostiner)Robert Mirabal is not just known on the Taos Pueblo as a great musician. He has won a few Grammys, and his hand-made flutes are sought after worldwide. So, when I was brought onto the Taos Pueblo, north of town, to meet Robert and his family, I had no idea what I would encounter. There I found Robert with his three girls, each more precocious than the next. All three girls were beguiling, and, when they looked at you, they stared straight into your eyes, your soul. I was alone with the Mirabals on their land surrounded by the high Rocky Mountains of northern New Mexico. Robert’s hands tell the story of his life, his family, and his music. His stories are full of age and wisdom and giving. Even if the culture he comes from is not ours, he will teach you how important it is to have a family and to give to a family. Robert, among the reeds on his land, and his daughters, standing next to the Rio Grande behind their house, tell all of us how rich the traditions are that Robert and his people have passed on to these girls and to all of us. So, while I was taking their pictures, they kept telling me, “You must be famous, you’re famous, right?” I just stared at Robert and took it all in. 
Marshall Potter, of Alpharetta, Georgia, with his family. (© Lewis Kostiner)I visited Marshall Potter and his family in the Atlanta suburb of Alpharetta, where they lived. All was new and full of trees and hills and kids. Although the housing crisis in Atlanta was just beginning, and Marshall and I discussed it a bit, his main focus was on his wife and children. This family was, in essence, my grandparents’ vision of the “American Dream”: a young, vibrant, and diverse family with two beautiful kids living in a new subdivision. They certainly seemed intent on always looking at things from a positive perspective. What struck me the most was their commitment to their love of God and country. In most of the images I made in their home, there was always an American flag in the picture, but not because I put them there. In this image. his beautiful wife, always on the lookout, stared out the window, ever vigilant. You could tell she knew her two boys just wanted to rough it up with their daddy, which they did. In this instance, I realized that the kids’ mother made it so much easier for Marshall to be a complete father. 
Kevin Washington, of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, with his daughter. (© Lewis Kostiner)Milt Scott from National Fatherhood Initiative met me at the Pittsburgh airport on October 19, 2007. This was to be my first foray into the making of pictures for the Choosing Fatherhood project. We drove to Kevin Washington’s apartment, just a few blocks from where the Pittsburgh Penguins play in the Igloo. We met Kevin in the hallway of his building, with his daughter by his side. He told me right away that he had spent years trying to obtain custody of his little girl from her mother, who had been in and out of jail for various offenses. His daughter was the pride of his life. The apartment where the two lived was an oasis of joy in this otherwise run-down section of Pittsburgh. Her room was lovely, with a well-organized desk, a big comfortable bed, a very nice dresser, lamps, and lots of toys. As we went out to make some pictures, she held on to him tightly, and he held on to her evem tighter. I found this abstract Expressionist graffiti on a door. I put them in front of it. Kevin, in true Pittsburgh fashion, had his Steelers stuff on, but you could tell his daughter was the only one he was rooting for.
Praise
“Choosing Fatherhood: America’s Second Chance, photos by Lewis Kostiner, is a beautiful, large-format, full-color book of poignant photographs and essays about fatherhood in America. Since World War II, the number of fatherless children in the United States has risen from 11 percent to more than one-third, and it is wreaking havoc and grief in almost every sector of this country. According to the heart-stopping essays by several renowned authors, the absence of fathers in the home is the root cause of the huge increase of poverty, drop-out rates of schools, incarceration, behavioral problems, child abuse, and feelings of abandonment for more than 24 million children today. The book, published in association with the National Fatherhood Initiative nonprofit organization, is a very important one, and its message offers ways to educate men about the responsibilities and delights and rewards of being present as their children grow up. Get this book for your library!”
—Bonnie Neely, owner of Real Travel Adventures and book reviewer for Amazon
“More than 24 million U.S. children have no father at home. One of three babies is born to a fatherless household. The picture gets even bleaker when you break it down by race and ethnicity. More than half of Hispanic babies and seven of ten African American infants will have no dad helping raise them. Those statistics, as well as the hollow left by his own father’s absence, prompted photographer Lewis Kostiner ’72 to undertake Choosing Fatherhood: America’s Second Chance, an unflinchingly candid, but hopeful, tribute to fatherhood.
“For Choosing Fatherhood, Kostiner spent just a few hours with each of his subjects, so these aren’t intimate portraits. Still, they feel honest. Strikingly composed, richly detailed, and handsomely printed, they are devoid of both irony and mawkishness. Their straightforwardness is reminiscent of Walker Evans’s and Dorothea Lange’s Depression-era portraits.”
—Charlotte Bruce Harvey, Brown Alumni Magazine
Read the full article here: www.brownalumnimagazine.com/content/view/3296/28/
“Lewis Kostiner, with unselfish commitment to an important cause, has created an arresting body of photographic work which tells us the story of men in need of a second chance. These are men who have reassessed their obligations and have made a commitment to fatherhood—men who are overcoming desperate circumstances and are prevailing through love and care of their children. These finely made environmental portraits are accompanied by a telling text that often saddens but at the same time energizes its readers to be more involved in the need of the oppressed and deprived. It isn’t often that a good artist gives so freely of his time, energy, and resources for the public awareness of others’ needs. I urge the reader to look carefully at the images to see the real depth of what a photograph can communicate about basic human emotion. Kostiner has done us all a service in drawing the viewer so intimately into the lives of people striving for the better and whom we ought to help.”
—Charles Traub, Chair, Department of Photography, Video, and Related Media, School of Visual Arts, New York City
“Lewis Kostiner became engaged in the subject of American fatherhood because of a current crisis in our society: far too many fathers are absent from their childrens’ lives. This has come to affect a vast population of children and thus the future of us all. Kostiner, himself, was without the daily presence of his father from the age of three. This is the personal history that naturally informs his vision and feelings. But, despite his opinions and sympathies, Kostiner does not insert a dogmatic ideology or overt sentimentality into these portraits of fathers and their families. Rather, he respects that aspect of photography that sidles up upon neutral expression and is concerned with sensitive and perceptive fact-gathering. After all, his subject is not a fairy tale but a serious reality that needs to be understood from what actually exists.”
—David Travis, Curator of Photography, Art Institute of Chicago, 1975-2008
“While many artists, in this post-modern era, create works with memory and history at their fulcrum, Lewis Kostiner responds more intently to his lived experiences and the inspired works of three mentors: Aaron Siskind, Harry Callahan, and Arthur Siegel. Kostiner, across four decades, has made photographic art, like the men who taught him, through direct, spare, uncomplicated, and accepting serial imagery. But Kostiner, in a departure from the men he reveres, accepts the demands of clarity, truth, and communication as the coupling to fuse his subject to his audience. In his continuously vital way, Kostiner has refused to allow realism and narrative to become stale or obsolete.
In Choosing Fatherhood, Kostiner addresses contemporary American social issues through portraits of fathers and the families they created. These twenty-first-century photographs are achingly poignant because they confront, as fact, the tragedy and then redemption revealed in the narratives that belie the static calm of the imagery. In this serial project, Kostiner has created a whole narrative, a means to reflect on the social obligations built into the ideas—real and ideal—of the American family.”
—Alan Cohen, photographer and author of On European Ground and Earth with Meaning
“The straightforward renderings of the figure in their detailed-packed environments augment these poignant stories in Choosing Fatherhood: America’s Second Chance. The tradition of documentary photography is intelligently, compassionately, and richly mined here. Lewis Kostiner’s commitment to visualizing these father-and-child connections leads one to reflect upon one’s own fatherhood—and the collapse of time where our hearts connect.”
—Kenneth Josephson, Professor Emeritus, School of the Art Institute of Chicago, and a co-founder of the Society for Photographic Education
“Open your eyes. Open your arms. Embrace these family pictures! They capture the joys and complexities of fatherhood. Here are images that stand as a compelling alternative to this generation’s commonplace picture of children without fathers.”
—Juan Williams, Fox News
“Kostiner is a Chicago-based photographer who became involved with the National Fatherhood Initiative, traveled to community-based NFI programs, and met with and photographed fathers and children. This volume presents his photos full page in an elegant volume (oversize: 10″ x 11″) with thorough narrative captioning. Also included are essays by journalist Juan Williams; the former president of NFI, Roland C. Warren; the retired curator of photography of the Art Institute of Chicago, David Travis; Shipra S. Parkih, a psychotherapist from Chicago); and Derrick M. Bryan (Sociology, Morehouse College). They write about the importance of fathers and fatherhood and doing it well and offer suggestions for readings and viewings.”
—Eithne O’Leyne, Editor, ProtoView, Ringgold, Inc.
My Place
Poof, and in an instant back in 1972 I was on my way to Chicago, by default. After graduating from Brown, my mother learned that I intended to move from Providence to Boston and become a waiter, so she convinced Aaron Siskind, my teacher, that I should be doing something else with my life. After all, I was only twenty-two and what did I know? So, my mother, Selma, in her infinite and loving wisdom, saw to it that I would not put myself adrift. In retrospect, I give her all the credit for that move. Aaron suggested that I consider studying photography at the graduate level at The Institute of Design in Chicago, and he was instrumental in helping me get in, as I applied long after the admission deadline had passed.
Upon greater reflection, I realize that, in so many ways, I am now conflicted about the place I call home. I grew up in Montreal; then I moved to suburban New York, where I attended grades six through twelve; then I lived in Providence for four years; and then on to Chicago, where I settled and stayed. The place I call home is much closer to my heart than to any of the cities I mentioned. Montreal gave me my cold Canadian childhood and countless, resounding memories of the great Montreal Canadian hockey teams. I lived and died with every drop of the puck that lead to another Stanley Cup for our great city. Westbury, Long Island, gave me a dose of reality and had me ponder that life might not always be perfect. I still console myself upon hearing the news of the murders of John and Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr., whom we lost during my school years on Long Island. While at Brown, I settled into Providence, but, as quickly as I came, I left. I never set down any deep roots there. While I had some truly wonderful teachers at Brown and the Rhode Island School of Design, when my days of study were up I packed the car and left a few hours after graduation. I have stayed connected to Providence, however, as both my daughters attended school there.
Garrison Keilor on one of his many Saturday night Prairie Home Companion radio shows talked about the notion of place and said that we all come from somewhere. I concur but only to the extent of where my heart takes me. Although I have lived in Chicago since 1972, I stayed here after graduate school because I found work as an adjunct professor at Columbia College Chicago teaching photography. I may have left the city if not for that opportunity. I stayed on because, soon after that, my heart and love led me to Annie, my wife. Chicago is truly her place, as she was born here and has lived here her entire life. If she whispered to me that it is time to move on, I would grasp her fingers and hold tight and go with her to wherever she takes me.
So, in a sense, I am beating around the proverbial bush. The most important gift Chicago has given me is my companion and our two children, Rickie and Tess. But, along with my family, there is also the inherent nature of this city’s ability to enthrall and create a meaningful dialogue in my life, within all that moves and stimulates me. In the end, it is what I bring to the relationship of place that really matters.
Copyright © 2013 Lewis Kostiner. All rights reserved.