Pictures Of Avedon
June, 1975
On a certain beige day in late spring, I'm sitting in a room in New York Hospital, surrounded by the well-meaning, god awful gadgetry of modern medicine, earnestly scratching out notes while Richard Avedon, high on cortisone treatments for a heart inflammation, take my carefully considered questions, warps them into his questions, then spins out rich, seductive answers that he approves of with an ingenuous smile.It is the photographer as subject, shamelessly using the myriad camouflage tricks us...
