Discovery Inside the Collection
Showing Karsh (and his portrait of Ansel Adams) — by Tracey Polson (August 2022)
The year my family began collecting photographs, I was born.
And I learned photography from looking at these photographs, and imitating Jerry Uelsmann, who made being a photographer look great.
Learning by Immitation
There was something in my photography that clearly felt like many photos I was familiar with, but I was always unable to describe it.
Dr. Melvin Rubin, in Gainesville, in 2012
Recognizing haiku principles
In 1998 I was given a book on haiku* and I became fascinated with the poetic form. It was a surprise, then, when I looked through my favorite photographs in the collection, I saw articulations of the rules of haiku. It was a strange and unusual way to think about a photograph. But it was surprisingly articulate about what I felt I was doing when I took pictures, and what I think all photogrpahers do to varying degrees, unconsciously.
Significance and Legacy
Ultimately, the Rubin Collection transcends the confines of an historical photographic anthology. It reflects Dr. Rubin's unique aesthetic preferences: the influence of his youth in San Francisco, of being the child of immigrants, of his career as a teacher and physician. The collection celebrates the evolution of the creative medium across the gamut of human existence. It is a unique slice through 20th-century history, craft, and humanity. Amidst the digital and AI era, the Rubin Collection offers a significant link to the relevance and profundity of photography, and the importance of the print as well as the image.