Bob Richardson: Damiani: 2007

"I want to go beyond cool. I'm bored with it."
Bob Richardson

Bob Richardson, the book, is as lavish and glossy as you would want it to be. Terry Richardson, son of, certified blue chip photographer of our day and the editor of this tome, certainly outdoes himself, along with the Creative Director Doug Lloyd and Art Director Gustaf Torling. They deliver a beautiful coffee table tribute that hits all the right, all the expected notes. The cover is that iconic image . Inside is the legendary shot of the model weeping on the beach and Terry has been vigilant in tracking down all those missing tears , chromes and prints from 60's and 70's issues of Harper's Bazaar, Nova, Italian, French and British Vogue necessary to complete the puzzle.
As a bonus , a series of photographs from "On The Run" a late career chronicle of Bob Richardson's cross-country trek from LA to NY is included along with snippets of a 200 page handwritten autobiography entitled "Outside". The book, in other words, goes a long way in sealing Richardson's reputation as a main apostle in the cult of transgressive cool. So why does it feel a little sterile? A little too well-behaved and restrained? I had a conversation with a member of Bob's circle from his 90's days when he was staging a comeback in cool little mags like Paper and Big. Of course Terry Richardson has a far more significant right than any former assistant in deciding how Bob Richardson's legacy should be constructed. But the assistant made the sharp point that a lot of very strong, very personal imagery from that 90's period was omitted. Understandably a lot of it is problematic, messy and perhaps does not count as fashion and perhaps not even as high art. Extremely sexual, rife with snapshots of genitalia and body fluids, it probably would have scared away the well- heeled customer that subscribes to coffee table books. But genitalia and body fluid...why does that content sound so over-familiar? The ex-assistant alledges that there are piles and piles of these prints and that imagery is the missing link, not only between the "editorial" Bob of the 60's and 70's but the "personalized" brand of fashion photography that flourished in the 90's. Perhaps the Bob Richardson that Terry wants the world to venerate is the well composed father figure he would have him be, not the naughty 60-something who would slip his dentures out to offer some nublie young thing "the blow-job of your life".
Photographers like Bob Richardson are always a challenge to capture in massive hardcover monographs. Guy Bourdin is just as slippery. None of the Bourdin books feel like the complete story. Its hard to pin these guys down in the neat and airless vitrines that represent retrospectives. But maybe that's a good thing, as it reminds you that the joy of fashion photography is the fleeting blur on throwaway glossy paper that belongs always with the here and the now. That said Bob Richardson the book is a necessary addition to any fashion reference library. During Paris Fashion Week Karl Lagerfeld was seen at Colette buying 3 copies.