Sudek is called "The Poet of Prague," but I would also call him a poet of interiors, of windows, as you can see from the photos above. Closed into his house, Nazis commanding the streets of Prague, he photographed the interior; he worked with what he had. Sudek says it best: "everything around us, dead or alive, in the eyes of a crazy photographer mysteriously takes on many variations so that a seemingly dead object comes to life through light or by its surroundings . . . . To capture some of this--I suppose that's lyricism."
Nothing seems to have stopped Sudek from taking pictures. His luck held out. The Nazis fell. Sonja Bullaty, a Czech Jew, who against all odds had survived the concentration camps, apprenticed herself to Sudek. It was Bullaty who built up a collection of Sudek's prints and arranged for them to be exhibited in America.
I hope--like Sudek--the dead objects around me will come to life!
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