I came to photography early in life. I had a rather nice, all-manual camera at the tender age of seven and have not been without a camera as a constant companion since.
Eleven years after my first camera I was – depending on your view – a young man or a late teenager, never without a camera. One summer’s day in 1979 at the venerable Café Landtmann in Vienna I noticed an interesting face, which belonged to a man of around thirty years of age. I asked if I could photograph him and we got talking.
My victim was Francisco Lasarte, who, at the time and if memory serves, was a writer and lecturer at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
I have chosen the term ‘victim’ wisely because I realised that some things have not changed: In 1979 I was, like today, using a Nikon camera. Coffee houses were, like today, at the centre of my soul and I was an anarchist with my camera, indulging in unplanned portraits – like today.
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If you liked this post, please share it with your friends. If you know – or are – Francisco Lasarte, please get in touch. I would love to catch up, 33 years after our meeting.