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Tori Winn worked in Richard Avedon’s studio in the 80s. This week I’m featuring an exclusive series of short essays about her experiences with him, his studio and his work.
DICK AVEDON. 1.
“As a person Dick Avedon, like Norma Stevens, was almost always moving quickly except when on set or sitting down at lunch or after 6pm when he disappeared upstairs into the space he lived in above the studio. He was a spirited Jewish New Yorker from the Bronx who had made something of himself through chutzpah, fearlessness and determination. He was 69 when I started working at the studio so by the time I knew him he was a man who had accomplished a lot but he was still pushing ahead and exploring new things with his camera. His restlessness and work ethic coupled with curiosity kept him young, driven and fresh. He often wore dark corduroys or jeans with a button down shirt, cashmere V-neck and moccasins or driving shoes. He had great silver grey hair and he was slim and attractive and maybe gay or asexual but it was impossible to tell. He had been married, had a son named John and some grandchildren. He was cultured and very social with a surround of famous friends from all walks of life. He also had a terrible time remembering names. Dick was protective and he cared about the people he surrounded himself with; he was known for being generous to his friends and he respected those who worked as part of the studio and Richard Avedon Inc. This combination and blend of things gave the studio a unique and vibrant daily rhythm and atmosphere and I loved being a part if it.”
UPSTAIRS DOWNSTAIRS
“Dick lived just above the main studio space in a great duplex. It was open-plan and unique for that part of NYC. It was sunny and airy and spacious and I thought it was cool and eccentric; he had a canvas-coloured teepee in his kitchen. There were a few times when I had to go upstairs and I felt quite tentative and a little scared to walk into the private space of a man who was so publicly famous for capturing and exposing the pathos and intimacies of others. I think Dick was fundamentally a very private person himself but when he was working something happened where he would expose a part of himself to his subjects and vice versa and together—somehow—they would capture a magic unknowable moment. These were the portraits he has become so famous for. I think he was a man who appreciated contrasts and complexities and borders and nuance. He was empathetic when he worked. He had learned how to move between worlds and spaces effortlessly and to create situations where he could always protect or reveal different sides of himself. The calm of his home stood in stark contrast to the vibrant daily hustle and bustle that was going on downstairs in the studio. But these two spaces did co-exist quite harmoniously and Dick seemed to move seamlessly between them in his role as photographer, celebrity, artist and ordinary man. Most evenings at 6pm the studio closed and I imagine a blanket of stillness and calm swept through this residential building that was located at 602 E. 76th Street. It is now a nursing home. “
