I think I can guess how Brassai must have felt. Even today the area around Montmarte (spelled right?) is full of mystery after dark. Late at night when the streets are empty and fog covers the treetops the effect is unforgetable. Click to enlarge.
Holy Cow! The text is slanted! I'm leaking consonants! Anyway, the quote above is the reason I put up this piece about Brassai. Before reading it, it never occurred to me that a part of town that's particularly appealing or mysterious should be left standing even if the architecture is just so-so. A street or a square or a neighborhood that attracts people, that exerts an indefinable magnetism or charisma over generations, should be preserved even if no one can figure out what the attraction consists of.
A famous thriller writer called this "felicitous architecture." He pointed out that some churches seem especially "holy." Others seem especially suited for weddings. He talked about a cheerful room in Williamsburg where three future presidents proposed to their wives. On the other hand he talked about places where murders routinely happen. Maybe he's right. Remember Van Gogh's picture of the ugly red pool room? He called it a room you could die in. Maybe architecture and spaces have the power to subtley influence human behavior.
The trench-coated figure above is Henry Miller who would frequently drop by unannounced to see if Brassai wanted to explore the night-time streets with him.
Another terrific quote! You wouldn't want to do without the melting clocks and flaming horses of full-blown surrealism but you could argue that the greatest pictures of all are the more subtle ones which show the weirdness underlying everyday reality.
