Stephen Rostand has published four books with Modern Memoirs. The first three—a photography collection in 2007, a department history in 2008 (reprinted in a second edition in 2019), and a family history in 2020—were featured in the January 2022 edition of “Reflections.” Rostand’s fourth publication, entitled It’s Okay to Play, was completed in 2024 and features another collection of his photography. Upon receiving his books, Rostand wrote to us, saying:
“The books are beautiful, even better than I expected. The paper has the right feel and texture, the photos are crisp, sharp and appear much better on paper than on the computer screen. In all, the real book is a work of art and everyone is to be congratulated for their contributions to what is so outstanding and masterfully done. You all have added sharpness, focus, and, as we photographers like to say, ‘snap’ to my ideas. You did a great job. I am overwhelmed.”
We followed up to ask the author to reflect on his art and his continued interest in the publication process.
1. In 2022, you said that you published your first photography book, entitled Mostly Paris, in order to preserve the best of your images for family and friends. What motivated you to create this second collection? With whom do you intend to share it?
Stephen Rostand: Mostly Paris was published 17 years ago, and during that time I often thought about doing another book of photographs, but what photos to use and their purpose was unclear. During this timeframe a constant theme that kept appearing in news articles and in my professional journals was the problem of “work/life balance” and “burnout.” Having, at one time, experienced this phenomenon, I thought it would be interesting to do a book of photographs demonstrating what people do to fulfill their lives other than work. I call the book It’s Okay to Play. It tries to show photographically how childhood play transitions to adult pastimes. I am distributing this book to family, friends, and colleagues, but I realize many of them are in my geriatric age group. Although it is never too late to play, I will also be giving these books to many of my younger colleagues who are at the onset or in the middle of their careers.
2. In the first volume, every image was shot in black and white. In It’s Okay to Play, two-thirds of the images are in color. What accounts for that change?
Stephen Rostand: In the era of film photography, before computers and digital cameras, whether the photo was in black and white or color depended on what film you had in your camera at the time; most often it was black and white. For those reasons, in that era, photographers tended to see in black and white. I, as many others, felt black and white showed the essence of the photo without the distraction of color. In the present digital era, the photographer has the option of black and white or color, without concern for film. As a result, one has the opportunity of seeing in either mode and can make a choice. Although I still believe, in many instances color detracts from the essence of the image, it can also add warmth or feelings that might not be appreciated in a stark black-and-white print.
3. The French photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson once said, “Your first 1,000 photographs are your worst.” You have been photographing for sixty years. Do you agree with Cartier-Bresson? What is one of the key lessons you have learned about this art form in that time?
“When armed with a camera or a sketch pad, one’s surroundings take on greater dimensions. One tends to look in every direction, up, down, side to side, seeing people and places in greater detail, perhaps for the first time.”
Stephen Rostand: Cartier-Bresson is correct. A really good photograph is elusive. It takes a long time to know your equipment, to have the patience to see your surroundings, and to decide what would make a good photograph—its timing and its purpose. It means early on one can waste much film and time. Nevertheless, one can occasionally produce a good image. With more time and maturity, one’s images improve progressively until one can more readily discover the “decisive moment.” Thereafter, good photographs are produced more consistently. Time, practice, and patience are the secrets to success in any art form or, for that matter, in any field of endeavor.
4. In your recent book, you said that photography helps you to see things from different perspectives and gain insights into people, the world, art, and yourself. How is that so? Can you share an anecdote of when photography gave you such insights?
Stephen Rostand: Most people live their daily lives oblivious to their surroundings. Their focus is on work and their activities of daily living. When armed with a camera or a sketch pad, one’s surroundings take on greater dimensions. One tends to look in every direction, up, down, side to side, seeing people and places in greater detail, perhaps for the first time. One takes in the complete scene, is more aware of one’s surroundings, may be better able to anticipate what might be happening, see the humor or seriousness in the scene. Life becomes more interesting and richer. Some examples for me: seeing humor in the incongruous juxtaposition of a Sabrett’s hotdog stand next to the entrance of Harry Winston’s jewelry store on Fifth Avenue in New York; another is the deep spiritual response I had on seeing the blue-green ice of a calving Margaree Glacier on a cold, silent, overcast morning while virtually alone on a small boat on the inner passage of Alaska.
5. The American photographer Lois Greenfield once said, “My interest in photography is not to capture an image I see or even have in my mind, but to explore the potential of moments I can only begin to imagine.” For you, how much of photography is about your intention, and how much is about the unforeseen?
Stephen Rostand: Greenfield’s more philosophical bent does not resonate with me. Unless one is a professional photographer carrying out specific assignments, most photographers may often only have a vague idea of what they are looking for. Perhaps they want to capture a particular place, be it urban or rural, a portrait, wildlife, or flowers. I like to photograph, when possible, the theater of life. I like to have people in my pictures. But having a general idea of what one wants does not mean one can always anticipate what one will encounter when arriving at the venue. One’s intention often comes after having looked at the finished photograph because much work in the dark room or with Photoshop creates the final image, and often the process of making that final image is when the photographer’s intention and/or philosophy is revealed. The final image reveals not only the scene but also the photographer who took it. The image and the photographer are the same.
Sabrett’s Peerage, Fifth Avenue, New York, New York, May 1994
Photo by Stephen Rostand
Epiphany, Margaree Glacier, Inside Passage, Alaska, July 2015
Photo by Stephen Rostand
Liz Sonnenberg is the staff Genealogist at Modern Memoirs, Inc.