My souvenir of the day.

A successful day at BookExpo America! I am extremely happy to report that we had a great turnout at Princeton Architectural Press’s booth, enough that we ran out of books while people were still waiting in line. I kept shooting photos of visitors and passing them out, and I hope nobody went home too disappointed. Huge thanks again to the P.A.P. marketing-and-PR crew (Katharine/Russell/Margaret/Diane) who made it happen. Diane was able to get an article about the event into the convention’s daily newspaper, which is not so easy to pull off, so she gets extra thanks with whipped cream on top.  I couldn’t be happier with the way the thing went.

Sample photo at right, showing one visitor to the booth who inadvertently walked away without her picture. The white frame around her was Russell’s awesome idea, one that I’m sure we will be using at future book events.

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B&N has the book for preorder now, too. New title hasn’t wormed its way into their database quite yet, but the updated cover has. I’ll put a buy-it-now bug on the right side of this page shortly, right next to Amazon’s, once I have the code set up.

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Nylon magazine: C’mon, dudes. You’re supposed to be knowing about art and design and photography. You are retro-cool enough to create a standing blog feature called the Nylon Party Polaroid. I even understand that shooting real instant film comes with its own problems, and that you’re just as soon splice a digital image onto the white Polaroid frame. You wouldn’t be the first or the last to do that, and I don’t particularly mind it here (it’s a digital feature, after all). But this is just stupid.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You don’t have to be a photo geek to notice that they have slapped the new photo ON THE BACK OF THE POLAROID PRINT INSTEAD OF THE FRONT. So you don’t even get to see the white frame correctly, and the whole thing looks lumpy and dirty. Awesome job, guys.

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Time Zero: The Last Year of Polaroid Film, Grant Hamilton’s documentary about the end of Polaroid and the start of Impossible, made its debut a couple of weeks ago in Boston. I couldn’t make it there—too much late scrambling on my own Pola-project in those weeks, and the travel budget is exhausted anyway—but the good news is that it’s coming to New York next. It’ll be at Tribeca Cinemas on June 24, and I have already bought my tickets. (You can do so here.)

Pola-people: I’ll be front and center, and hope to meet you there. If the trailer is any indication, I will be the dude who’s all teary-eyed in the first ten minutes.

Friends, colleagues, book-publishing folk: Next week I’ll be at Book Expo America, shooting pictures and talking Polaroid. Come find me at Princeton Architectural Press’s booth, No. 4022, on Wednesday at 2 p.m.; I will also floating around the show before and after that, too. You should be able to spot me easily enough: old camera around my neck, suitcase full of film under the desk, pile of galleys next to me, big moony grin as I pretend to be a VIP.

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Photo by Mike Hutmacher/The Wichita Eagle. Link below.

A story pinging around the Web this weekend, via the Wichita Eagle: Kid bought a Polaroid Impulse (600-type) camera at a garage sale, brought it home, and popped it open. The film cartridge within held a picture, and he showed it to his grandmother, who recognized the subjects as the boy’s uncle, who had died young in a car wreck, and an old girlfriend. The sellers of the camera didn’t know who the two people in the photo were, or how that camera had made it into their house.

The story’s suffused with silliness about God’s divine placement of that image on the film. (It reminds me of the long-ago fad known as spirit photography.) Anyone who’s shot a lot of Polaroid pictures, though, knows what happened here. The photo was exposed normally, then ejected and processed (because no image could have formed without its going through the rollers).  The empty plastic film cartridges were often used, back then, as quick cheap frames, as this one undoubtedly was. At some point, photo and holder got inserted back into the camera, maybe to see if it fit, maybe to see if the battery worked, maybe just because the cartridge was kicking around in the camera case. Then it went from thrift store to garage sale unopened, as these things tend to do, until this kid bought it. It’s an amazing coincidence, even in a relatively small city, but the only magician at work here is—was—Dr. Land.

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