Irving Penn, the grand master of American portrait and fashion photography has died aged 92. He is the reason I am a photographer, the inspiration, the search for perfection and the mark at which all other photography is measured. His influence can be seen in many other photographers work, from Annie Leibovitz to Albert Watson and my own of course.
I nearly met him once, I came within a few feet, but it was not to be. On a trip to New York, I managed to find out where his studio was and set off to meet him. I found the tall building on 5th Ave, his name was nowhere on the buildings registry, but there was a name that gave me a clue, Conde Nast Publications, so up I went. Stepping out into a dark landing with a door in each corner, there I found him, on the name plate under the spy hole, the name smugged with fingers rubbing, Irving Penn.
I knew I was about to make a fool out of myself and with my heart beating like mad, I rang the bell. A nice looking young girl answered and after listening to my blubbering nonsense about being a photographer from Ireland and Mr Penn being the reason I was, she asked me to wait a moment. Was she going to get him? Is that him coming now??? No! A very stern mature lady appeared with a clipped,"Yes"? I babbled it all again and how I would love to just shake his hand, to which I was told "Mr Penn hasn't even got time to see his friends". "Can I just have a quick look around the studio"?. "I'm sorry, we are working here" and with that the door closed.
I took this photograph of the spyhole with his name underneath and made the best print I could on my last few sheet of "Record Rapid" fiber based photographic paper (it was discontinued due to nasty chemicals) and I sent him a copy, hoping for a nice letter back or maybe one of his prints? I never heard back, I bet Dragon Lady never even showed it to him.
Rest in Peace Mr Penn.
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