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Vanity in the Twelfth degree: Selma Rosenberg
I met Selma Rosenberg in Ralph's parking lot in Palm Springs. I was taken by her energy and an overwhelming joie de vivre. It wasn't for a while that I noticed the tattoo on her forearm that immediately clued me in that she had been in a concentration camp during the war. I was shook by the energy that she gave off and the horror she must've lived through while in Auschwitz. I went up to her in th parking lot and invited her to sit down at the café so we could talk. I really wanted to hear her story and find out how somebody who had been through such terror and trauma could be so vivacious and happy. She had fallen in love with a man in the camp, Moshe, who became the love of her life . one day he was there and the next day he was gone! years later she married Able Rosenberg, had children had a whole family but still pined for her long gone lover. I was so taken with her story that I wanted take her portrait. she invited me over to her house. it was a beautiful day and we were in her backyard . I was 3 feet away from her and I started by photographing her hand raised up her left arm with a tattoo. She looked at me very sternly and said "you can't take my picture unless you're 15 feet away I don't want anybody to see my wrinkles". she was very clear however that I needed to stand at least 15 feet away from her. I thought well this is a really crappy way to take a portrait of somebody from 15 feet away which really wouldn't work even with a very powerful zoom lens at the most I would do is capture her forearm but nothing about her but because that was her request I took those photos. two weeks later I was sitting in the same café in Ralph's parking lot when Selma came up to me and asked me "so new, how are the pictures? were you pleased" I looked at he and said " Selma they really were shit because you wouldn't allow me to get close enough to photograph who you are which is the part of you that I found so extraordinary I thought about it then and decided I had nothing to lose by being boldly honest with her. "I Don't Understand how someone can survive Auschwitz and then be so fucking petty and concerned about the lines in your gorgeous punim !!" I could see she was thinking about what I had just posed to her and she shook her head and she said you know " you're right that was silly of me . why don't you come back to my house and we'll do the photos all over again. I want you to be pleased you can shoot me wrinkles and all after all it is part of my life and part of who I am"
5 days later I was back at her house and we're in her shiny blindingly white clean kitchen. she stood behind the counter smiled at me and that's the photo that I shot of her without the number on her forearm. Albeit the tattoo was important but not as important as the energy and life force she radiated stemming from her survival in her drive to have a good life, still in love with her long lost moshe
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Vanity in the Twelfth degree: Selma Rosenberg
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