Sometime in perhaps 1986 or 1987 I went to photograph an artist for a magazine I worked for. She was lovely, really receptive to my intrusion with my camera. Very warm and receptive and open to my questions, my curiosity about everything in her studio. On a desk there was a framed black and white photograph amongst postcards, flyers for exhibitions, mugs, flowers, letters, I said ‘Oh, that’s a beautiful photograph!’ I was looking at the picture of the young woman with the flower behind her ear. ‘That’s my friend,’ she said. ‘Mary Frank, an artist. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of him, but that is a photograph of her by her husband, Robert Frank.’ Robert Frank! THE Robert Frank! The Swiss photographer whose most famous work was the book ‘The Americans’.
I stole that Robert Frank photograph in the only way I could; by taking a photograph of it.