“Tim, Come Here”
Photographer colleague Tim Soter is on his second printing of his most recent book “Tim, Go Away,” an affectionate homage to master photographer Duane Michals. Each edition is only 50 pieces, so act now if you hope to get a copy.
I’ve know Tim for many years and always found his keen interest in other photographers both intriguing and perplexing. With an objet d'art before us we met up to discuss.
Chris Buck: Why did you do this book?
Tim Soter: This wasn’t meant to be a book…it was just me mildly stalking Duane Michals. I wrote him a letter and said, “Hey, I would like to meet with you.” I went over and visited him with for like an hour and a half and it was great. So after that I started to going to his openings, and getting a little bit closer to him. Over time I eventually became friends with him.
I made a book about this because I wanted to understand why I was fetishizing this person so much. We all have a photographer who we’re like, “Oh God, that person’s work really changed me.” You revere them, and you have some sort of connection to them.
I understand the photographer obsession (see here). Does the book get into the nitty gritty of that obsession?
The book is a narrative. It talks about me kind of dancing around trying to meet him and then taking a seminar with him out in Palm Springs. And then it talks about me fetishizing his books - why I collected almost every one of the 33 books (I even have multiple copies of some books).
Ultimately, if you read my book you’ll see that it becomes less about Duane, and more just a vehicle about me. I included letters that I had written to him, which I never intended to share with anyone. I can’t even re-read them, they’re like love letters. Non-romantic, non-sexual love letters to someone I really admire - it’s terrible! It’s like a diary, but that’s what makes it good and interesting.
Did he ever actually say, “Tim, go away?”
That comes from that day that I met him for the first time. We talked for about an hour and 45 minutes, and he said, “Oh, what time is it?” I said, “It’s 5:45.” He said, “Oh, you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go.” I said, “Would you mind signing these books?” I brought two or three books and he grabbed the first one and he just wrote “Tim, go away,” and he handed it back to me.
I know that you became close with photographer Arthur Tress first, is he jealous of this?
No. You know, they’re very different people. And, I think Arthur actually talks to Duane somewhat regularly.
Initially he had called Duane and said, “Hey, this kid’s okay, he’s not crazy. We went out to Coney Island took some pictures - he’s decent.” No, there’s no rivalry or anything like that. As Duane has said, Arthur is a true eccentric – he really is in a different world in many ways. He is super-autonomous and not necessarily connected with a lot of people. The next book, which is about eighty-five percent done, is about Arthur.
At first when you were hanging with Arthur I didn’t know you that well. I ran into you two at a photo event and thought, “Well, maybe Tim is gay and he and Arthur are lovers.” I didn’t assume you were lovers but I made the leap that you could be, and hey, good for you.
A couple of my friends have made the joke that I’m the biographer of the Old Gay Photographers Club, or something like that. So yeah, I’m straight, and both of those guys are gay.
With Arthur, I forget if he asked me if I was straight or if he just kind of figured it out. I certainly am not the type of person who right off of the bat would say, “Oh yeah, well my ex-girlfriend…” and kind of lean on it. Because I don’t really care. We should all arrive at that point naturally and, yeah, it’s gonna be fine.
Okay, next question. I say this all due respect, I’m always a little concerned when I see colleagues get very into other photographers. I think it’s important to be documenting these people but I wonder if you feel like your title needs to change from “photographer,” to like “historian/photographer.”
This really is something I thought a lot about. And that was part of the ending of the first edition was…don’t do this for too long. Yeah, I think about this all the time.
No, you’re right - it’s an excuse. Personally I’m…revealing this, it is an excuse to a degree, to not do my own work. Even when I was collecting all of Duane’s books.
I had this realization last month…I walked into my living room and there was a beautiful collection of periodicals, books - and they’re not even expensive - but if you just put them all together it was exactly the type of things that are the most stimulating to my brain. And I realized that all of this fucking shit is haunting me. And I’m not exaggerating. It overwhelms me to the point where I think, “Oh my God, everyone is out there doing it but you’re not.” And the more I collect the more I’m just heaping that idea on, instead of making the work and knowing I’m a part of it. The first time I felt like I was making a contribution and participating was when I put the Duane book out there in the universe.
All images courtesy of Tim Soter, and appear in “Tim, Go Away.”