Time Flies: How to Confront its Passing

As a kid, it took Larry Racioppo a while to make a connection between photography and art. “The only photographers I ever saw growing up in Brooklyn were wedding photographers. Every neighborhood had a little photo studio, where you get your communion picture, your wedding picture, your passport picture. But I had no idea about the art of photography.” That all changed when he stumbled across the work of Eugene Smith.

“I really liked his work. He had an essay called the Spanish Village and my favorite photo was of an older man—dying or dead—surrounded by these women in kerchiefs. It stayed with me. It was very dark and very beautiful. And it made me realize that death, or serious things, was something you could photograph,” Larry says.

© Eugene Smith

As an Italian American from Brooklyn, family wakes and burials in the 70s were a big affair, with multiple sessions over the course of three or four days. Inspired by Smith’s work, Larry started to document some family wakes, shyly at first, but as the family accepted what he was doing, with more confidence. Some of those early photos showed Larry he could create something worthwhile with a camera, and he’s been taking photos ever since.

This story, and his latest book, DOWN HERE ON DARK EARTH, made me reflect on Larry’s work as a whole. A great many of his projects center on family, religion, and mortality. Larry agreed with my assessment, but he corrected me on one important point: He said, “I think I’m more interested in the passing of time than mortality itself. And photography is a powerful way to confront that passing. “After dinner one evening in the 1970’s, my Uncle Lucky, 64 years old at the time, pointed to himself and said “Do you think this is me, the real me?” He took out his wallet, opened it and pointed to his taxi license photo from the 1930’s, and said “THIS is the REAL ME.””

Uncle Lucky, and the REAL Uncle Lucky as seen in a 1980 piece in ART NEWS.

It’s a conversation Larry never forgot, and one that likely inspired a restaging series he started in the 1980s. Long before it ever trended on social media, Larry recreated family snapshots from the 1950s thirty years later. He never completed the project, but having documented his family for over half a century now, the passing of time is often revealed.

HERE DOWN ON DARK EARTH

It wasn’t until COVID-19 hit and Larry found himself under a self-imposed quarantine, that he considered pairing his early photographs of his family and Brooklyn with another body of work he began in 1989. In that year, Larry was hired by NYC’s Department of Housing Preservation and Development (HPD) as a staff photographer. While working with HPD Larry started to notice RIP memorials and monuments around the city. They came in all shapes and sizes—some simple, some elaborate, some personal, some communal. He felt compelled to document them. These monuments told a powerful story of loss and remembrance.

When the pandemic kicked off here in the U.S., Larry was 72 years old and becoming, as he puts it, “increasingly aware of my aging.” One day, he laid out the funeral cards of friends and relatives on his work table. He saw a connection between the birth-death dates on the cards, and those on the RIP memorial walls. “I realized I had better get busy,” he says. He decided to combine the two bodies of work into a book. “I suspected that if I found a publisher for Here Down on Dark Earth (The book’s title is from a Jack Kerouac poem), it would be an academic press. I realized that I had to write an introduction and provide context for many of the book’s 330 photographs, e.g. the Chapel of the Sisters in Queens.

“I couldn’t presume that the average reader would know that the chapel was the creation of Nicholas Ludlum who had three daughters: Mary Cecelia, who died at the age of one year in 1828; Cornelia, who died at 13 in 1837; and Mary, who died at 21 in 1855. He decided to erect a memorial to his children and in 1857 acquired for it a three-acre parcel next to Prospect Cemetery.

“I also found two essayists to add depth to the book. I was very happy that Fordham University Press responded positively to my book proposal, and published my “heavy” book last month. The Press did a lovely job.”

What he loves most about the book is the way it brings two large bodies of his work together. Of course, Larry’s no stranger to book publishing. He’s had several titles published. When I asked him which was his favorite, he said it’s a tough question, kind of like asking which child is your favorite. He does, however, have a few favorite stories about how some of his books were published. Below, he relates three of them:

HALLOWEEN

I was sitting a small show of my Halloween photos at the 11th Street Photo Gallery on the Lower East Side when an editor from Scribner’s came into the gallery and looked at the photos. I introduced myself and after a short conversation, she offered me a book deal with a small advance. Of course, I said yes, and a year later my book was in print.

CONEY ISLAND BABY

While preparing a portfolio for an interview with Lisa Schaeffer, the new curator of the Coney Island Museum, I realized that I had way too many photos to carry comfortably. So, I decided to make a Shutterfly book with 100 images to show her. Lisa loved my work, and the book. She agreed to collect my work for the Museum’s permanent collection. Lisa then asked if I would print 10 more copies of the book for sale on consignment at Coney Island USA’s gift shop.

To my surprise, the 10 copies quickly sold, and then another 10! I then decided to make a real book, with text, two essays and the help of Francesca Richer, a very talented book designer. The result:

CONEY ISLAND BABY is now in its 4th printing.

I HOPE I BREAK EVEN, I COULD USE THE MONEY

This book came as another surprise. In September 2023, I had posted a short piece called “A Day at the Track: Aqueduct, 1972” on Mr. Beller’s Neighborhood, a wonderful online site for writers. I wrote about a trip to Aqueduct racetrack with my father and uncle, who were regulars there. I included a few photos, which I was not sure I actually was allowed to take.

When my stepdaughter Francesca saw the post, she asked if I had any more photos, enough to create a book? I gave her all my files, found an essayist and suggested contacting DB Burkman at Blurring Books. Things happened quickly. Two things about this book that make me very happy are the fact that the title quote was something my cousin Joe overheard when he was at Aqueduct. The second is that the ending photo shows my Uncle Nick and my father (on the left) looking so happy.

Creative for the Long Term

One thing that continues to impress me about Larry is how he’s stuck with photography, always with an interesting project up his sleeve, for over 50 years. He never talks about burning out, even when he had to work “lousy jobs” to support his photographic interests. “How is that possible?” I wondered. Turns out, it’s not that complicated. Larry explains, “The basic answer is that I love to photograph, and that has not changed in 50 years. The projects I have chosen to pursue are engaging, and except for a very few, are all “long-term”. For example, my new book HERE DOWN ON DARK EARTH contains photographs made from 1971 through 2023.

“Except for some commercial assignments and my years with HPD, I have been able to photograph things that interest me. I have followed up newspaper articles, television spots, and suggestions from friends and relatives.

“Here’s a good example: My wife and I were watching television one morning when a report came on about a large fire in a Bushwick church. I knew that this would be a great site to photograph. I got dressed and drove to the church without a camera. Before entering the church, I donned a hardhat, put on an orange mesh vest, took out a clipboard and a large marker. No one stopped me as I walked in and mingled with NYC firemen, policemen and Church Security. I was just another middle-aged city official with a hard hat. Eventually, I found the Church’s superintendent and explained that I would like to take some “serious photographs” to document the damage, but there were too many people there now to do so. I promised to return with a set of prints in a week or two. He agreed that I could come back the next day to photograph.

“I was there bright and early with my 4×5 and tripod.

Bethesda Baptist Church, Bushwick, 1997

“Another good example involves Coney Island’s Mermaid Parade, which started in 1988. I had heard about it but was not interested until a friend at HPD told that there was a staging area near the Parachute Jump where people finished creating their costumes and floats. Now that appealed to me! I went to my first parade in 1992 and have been returning for almost 30 years.”

The Birth of Venus, 1992

Leaving a Legacy

Not only has Larry created a large body of work over the years, he’s also made sure they’ll be around for future generations—a step many photographers overlook. It’s something he’s thought about for many years. Early on, he was strongly influenced David Vestal’s THE CRAFT OF PHOTOGRAPHY. Although it’s now out of print, there are many copies available on Amazon:

Larry says, “I learned a lot about both photographing and printing in this book. It is indeed a book about craft. However, what stood out to me in 1978 and resonates even more clearly today is Mr. Vestal’s writing about fame and success. He notes that few photographers achieve their early goals and hopes. He urges us to keep photographing and printing nonetheless, and reminds us of all the photographers who have achieved success posthumously.

“He concludes “I believe strongly in making the best pictures you can, even if nobody likes them, and putting them carefully in boxes. So many of the best pictures have come to us this way.””

Larry has been printing and archiving his prints, negatives, and digital files ever since. He also recommends placing your photographs in as many institutions as you can, as soon as you can. His pro tip? Some institutions will not buy a print but will ask you do donate a print, especially if the print was included in a group show there. That’s how Larry got his first two prints into the Museum of the City of New York’s Photo Collection.

Another practical piece of advice is this:  identify institutions, galleries and museums that show and collect work like yours. “If you are a simple, direct thinker, these are natural starting points,” he says. “When I learned that the Brooklyn Public Library housed the Brooklyn Collection, I thought “Gee, I’ve made about 95% of my photographs in Brooklyn, maybe I should contact them.” I did so, and things worked out very well. I have maintained this relationship for over 30 years. A few years ago, the Brooklyn Collection merged with the Brooklyn Historical Society to form The Center for Brooklyn History. The Center will hold my Photo Archive, including all my negatives, after my death.” On a happier note, the Center is holding a panel discussion on Larry’s new book and has included several of his photographs in their current exhibit Brooklyn Is! Here’s Larry at the opening, posing next to a large blowup of a 1979 Fort Greene photo.

Photo credit: Gregg Richards

Without a doubt, Larry is a photographer and an artist we can all learn a tremendous amount from. Perhaps my favorite lesson is this: If you love photography, take it seriously, photograph things you are interested in, and keep at it. The bodies of work that result from that kind of labor of love will be worth every effort you put into them.

Where to Find Larry