JB: I think that this [Untitled: Orphans, 1972, The Menil Collection, Houston, gift of the artist] may be a good one to look at now, with that in mind, because you see the pinholes in the corners of this, which, you know...
Danny Lyon: Right, oh look.
JB: ...I imagine this was tacked up to, perhaps, your bulletin board at one point in time.
Danny Lyon: That's correct.
JB: So, fashions change, you know, in presentation of material, and so we're seeing what has happened in the past here in the collection, and we're trying to come to a practice today that suits your feeling about the material, and then projecting into the future what may be requested by a different generation of curators, and so it's great to be able to look at this with you...
Danny Lyon: You know, sometimes on these corners, they'll leave one off. Have you seen that? And just so you don't have to bend—that's why you objected, because you have to bend this to remove it. You can hold this, just as well, with three corners. I mean, I've seen that with, you know, they just affixed three corners. You know, these push-pins, in the Texas Prison [Series], which is a long, long series, more ambitious than this, there were hundreds and hundreds of prints made, most of them were made in Midway, Texas, in a bathroom, and I would go out and photograph, you know, every couple of weeks I'd process the film, and then I'd go into the darkroom, and quickly print, you know, like the first print ever made of these guys with the hoe, was a little eight by ten. And I would usually make one or two or three prints, at the most. Those are the most valuable prints, and I would never go back to that picture, because I was, a month later, there were new pictures, etc., etc. Of course, within them were just pictures, and occasionally, there were masterpieces, but that's just part of the process, you know. I was working, working, working. I did this for 14 months, non-stop, photographing, coming back, and I think in the end, I'd done about 200 rolls of film. So say, you know, every month, I'd have like another ten or 15 rolls. But I had a bulletin board, someplace in that house was a bulletin board, and I would put these pictures up with thumbtacks, with these push-pins, in the corners, through the prints, to try to create this book which was based on chapters, and units, and bring them together. Meaning, if in fact I decided there was going to be a section on the Ellis Unit, I would put them up, and say, this is what I got, you know, I got too many pictures of horses, or I don't have a picture of solitary, or I need to get a picture of this guy, and that's why—and on the Texas prison pictures in particular, there are prints like that that'll have five or six holes in each corner, and the more holes they had, the more indecisive I was, or the more it got moved around, or the more questions there were. Those prints still survive, you know, but I haven't seen any here.
JB: And so, in that sense, it becomes a more interesting, again, to open—to open up and see them...
Danny Lyon: Well, it's that these are what used to be called work prints—you know, again there are different ways of looking at them. I call them work prints. On the other hand, for collectors, these have been the most valuable and sought-after of my prints. On the other hand, you know, I've heard people say, those aren't your work prints. Those are your prints because, you know, Ansel Adams—who I've never met, I didn't particularly want to meet him, had just a totally different standard of photographs, of proofs. I was not a studio photographer. I jumped at that word. I have a studio now because I'm old, you know, and I spend a lot of time in it, but when this work was done, I mean the Civil Rights Movement, I mean, I didn't have a studio, you know. If I was lucky, I had a darkroom in a bathroom. My darkrooms were in bathrooms until the—I built, I think, my first darkroom in New Mexico, and I wasn't really being a photographer. I actually built a darkroom, and it's an adobe darkroom made out of dirt. It has dirt walls that are plastered, you know, but that I think probably was my—here in Texas, they were always in bathrooms, meaning I wasn't turning out these final, beautiful prints for the art world. I was just functioning, but I worked very, very hard on those prints, and wanting them to look as good as possible, and then, I mean, there's a whole history of these prints. So this [Road to Madrid, New Mexico, 1970, The Menil Collection, Houston] is one of these kind of mediocre pictures—that means I didn't make that print. I made this print, and you can know exactly when I made it because of this cockamamie border. Look at it. I filed it out by hand. Igor made that, I'm pretty sure, because Addie hired Igor to do all the printing for this project, Igor Bakht.
JB: And note, there's three corners on this one [Clamming. Tonging for Hard Clams. Three Mile Harbor, East Hampton, 1982, The Menil Collection, Houston, gift of Adelaide de Menil Carpenter]. (speaking to Adam off-camera) And those two, yeah. Thanks, Adam. We'll just do a quick change out here.
Danny Lyon: Hm?
JB: We'll just do a quick change out here.
Danny Lyon: Okay.
JB: In fact, let's get this one too. All right, so...