George Forss was raised in the shadows and lived in the shadows, taking his photos in New York before there were vendors everywhere, peddling them on the streets, dodging police patrols. Some decades ago his great work was discovered and he came into the light – he was on the Today Show, interviewed by the BBC, in Time Magazine, hailed by the great photographers of the world, taken on by a classy art gallery.
After 911, and for many personal reasons, George returned to the shadows where he remained for many years He became loved in his community, running his gallery, playing in his weekly Recorder group, caring for his lover and brother, continuing to do his work. I think the shadows are where he is really most comfortable. His great works remained mostly locked up in boxes and drawers, filed away, recorded on discs, over time, seen less and less.
George never stopped loving his work or dreaming of publishing the photos he took, but I think he had given up on the idea, George accepts life, he does not fight with it much. I love George, as is obvious, he is not only brilliant but one of the gentlest and most thoughtful souls I have known. He talks to aliens regularly, writes books and mails them to his friends, posts manifestos on his blog, sells photos – he has never been completely forgotten, takes one magnificent picture after another and celebrates creativity whenever and wherever it appears. “Art Saves Lives” is the slogan that hangs over his doorstep. I think it saved his.
George had many responsibilities in his life upstate, he settled into his gallery work, he understood the photographic masters were being pushed aside by the digital photography revolution, he accepted this with his usual grace. George does not mourn for the old days or fool himself into thinking everything in the past is better than everything in the present.
The Kickstarter project has been difficult for George, as it was for me. He is not used to asking other people for money, he has never done it before, as I never had. He could not grasp why so many strangers would rush to support his work when so many people in the art world had not. It was technically difficult for him to do on his prehistoric computer, if that is what it really is. The process of going online and putting the project together was confusing and frightening to him, he bravely struggled with it and submitted to it.
Today I went over to his gallery to take a photo of him on this important day – his $8,200 “The Way We Were” project was funded at 3 a.m., less than 24 hours after it went up and by afternoon, he was well over $10,000. We are dining together tonight to celebrate. We had talked about asking for $11,000 but we both thought it was too risky, we just didn’t know what would happen. His book will cost nearly $8,000 to publish. On Kickstarter, you receive no money if the project is not fully funded, you can receive more if it is. He can use that money for his book “The Way We Were,” and now it looks as if he will have it and more. We both agreed to cancel the fund-raising evening we had planned to raise money for the project, it doesn’t seem right to either of us ask the people in the town for money when he is getting what he asked for online, and then some. Monday we are putting some posters up, people here can contribute if they wish.
If George gets still more money – I believe he will – he will put it to good use. I begged him after this week to consider buying a new computer and to my astonishment, he said he is thinking about it. God is good.
This afternoon we put up another reward for “The Way We Were,” digital prints of his wonderful rural landscapes and still lifes – he calls it “New World” photos taken after he moved to Cambridge in the years after 911. People who pledge $200 or more can receive one of these photos, in color or black and white. George offered ten silver gelatin prints of his “Way We Were” photos for $500 and all were gone within hours. So the new reward of $200 has been added, so that there will be more incentives to contribute. After all, there are 29 days to go, and George does not expect to get too many opportunities like this.
George is grateful and in shock. And he is happy and excited, his work will live, it will be seen, he will get the book he has dreamed of for years, the circle times, it is his time to be in the light again.
I was so happy for him. I shook his hand this afternoon – George is not a hugger – and I put my hand on his shoulder. We were in his darkroom, the place where he is the most comfortable and at home.
“George,” I said, “you are out of the shadows again, you are into the light of the world, where you belong, it is your rightful place, you and your work.” He looked up at the lights, looked at my camera lens to see which one I was using, looked towards me, unusual when I have a camera. “I know, I know,” he said. “I never gave up on it, I just did not believe it could happen.”