A Photographic Memory (2024) Movie Script
1
[intense music playing]
[microphone rumbling]
[woman]
This is a test.
[tape button clicks]
I want to see
how the sound is working.
[microphone rustling]
Yes, there we are,
some sign of life
has returned to the world here.
But still, it doesn't seem
to be as much as it ought to.
Let's see
what's happening here.
[indistinct chatter]
[woman] You can edit
the whole thing,
take out everything you don't
really want [indistinct].
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[indistinct soft speaking]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[woman]
Reel three, Bresson.
[microphone rumbling]
Is it too simple
to talk in a way of--
of the photography, in a way,
saving seconds of time?
[Henri]
I don't know.
Life is very fluid.
Well, um, sometimes a picture
has disappeared,
nothing you can do.
You can't tell the person,
"Oh, please smile again,
do that gesture again."
Life is once forever.
[reel whirring]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
All right, the first
phone number I'm gonna call
is... David Appel.
[phone notification]
[woman 2] Your call cannot
be completed as dialed.
Should I call her accountant?
That's kind of silly, right?
Nobody's close
to their accountant.
We're sorry,
you have reached a number
that has been disconnected.
Helen Cook,
she was the nanny in England.
No phone number though.
[phone line squealing]
[groans]
Did you happen to know a woman
named Sheila Turner Seed?
Okay, sorry about that,
thank you.
[busy signal]
There's one more number here,
so I'll try it.
[phone ringing]
[man] Yes?
Hi, my name is Rachel Seed,
I'm Sheila Turner Seed's
daughter.
[man]
Sheila--oh my God.
Sheila--
It's Sheila Turner's daughter.
How are you?
I'm good,
I'm actually calling people
from her address book,
and I'm collecting stories,
and I'm learning
about who she was,
because she died
when I was so young.
[man] How old were you
when she died?
I was 18 months old
when she died.
[man] Oh, then you didn't
really know her.
Your mother was
a remarkable storyteller.
I know she went
to Latin America...
[tape button clicks]
[Rachel] I have no memories
of my mother.
[Sheila] The derry-o
The farmer in the dell
[Sheila vocalizing]
[Rachel] And when I set out
to find her a few years back...
she was basically
a stranger to me.
[Sheila] Derry-o
The farmer takes a wife
[microphone rumbling]
[Sheila]
It might be interesting...
[Rachel] My dad never
talked much about her.
[indistinct speaking]
Except to tell me that
she was an accomplished writer
and photographer,
way ahead of her time.
[Sheila]
Showing your pictures that...
[train rattling]
[Rachel] But it wasn't until
I became a photographer myself
that I started
to become curious
about the work she created.
And whether,
in the pages of her transcripts
and contact sheets...
her journals
and her audio tapes...
["Possibility"
by Lykke Li playing]
...I might also find her.
[vocalizing]
[Lykke Li]
Know that when you leave
By blood and by me
You walk like a thief
By blood and by me
And I fall when you leave
[vocalizing]
[tape button clicks]
[birds chirping]
[man 2] The fate
of an old photographer
is to be photographed himself.
And now his fate is to have
a camera stuck into his face
by his darling daughter.
[camera chirps]
This is not
all that easy to use.
You kind of have
to get used to it, you know?
-Sometimes people get--
-Very hard to focus.
God. Oh, it's impossible
to focus.
-Really?
-You're welcome to it.
Keep it.
[Rachel] Let me see.
Were you surprised why I decided
to become a photographer?
I mean,
you've obviously inherited
some of her qualities
and some of her interests.
Which actually probably would
be my interests as well,
so where it comes from,
we don't know.
[soft, mysterious music playing]
[Rachel]
One of my earliest memories
was of my dad hiding out
in his basement darkroom...
[scissors snip]
...lost in his pictures.
[projector clicks]
He captured my childhood
in stock photos...
[projector clicks]
...which he licensed
to support our family.
[projector clicks]
They had captions like
"8 year-old's birthday party."
[projector clicks]
"Child watches Sesame Street."
[projector clicks]
"Friends blowing bubbles."
[projector clicks]
In this fantasy world,
my dad wasn't a widower.
[projector clicks]
And I wasn't a girl
without a mom.
[birds chirping]
[Brian] How much longer
are you here now?
I've asked you this question
probably 15 times.
-[Rachel] A few more days.
-Few more days.
I'm gonna miss
my lovely daughter.
Dad, I'm here, I've been here
half the whole year.
I know, I know, I know, I know.
But even so...
It's no good.
And actually tears
are coming to my eyes.
Can you believe that?
Kind of silly, isn't it?
-You're emotional.
-Hm?
-You're emotional.
-I am, I am.
I have to be 'cause...
Why?
I don't know.
'Cause I'm just
a little lonely boy
all by himself.
[Rachel] Well, I was
a little lonely girl.
Well, I'm very sorry about it.
I mean, you weren't--
I did my best for you not to be
a lonely girl most of all.
You don't want my past,
I'll tell you that.
You may think your past
wasn't all that brilliant.
Well, I didn't get to see
my mother at all.
All right.
Let's see who suffered the most.
[mellow music playing]
These are Time negatives,
and they're identified,
actually,
because I do believe...
Old London photographs.
Oh, and by the way,
up there are actual prints.
By now, these are old prints
that were made in the days
when I was printing.
[stairs creaking]
Important photographers
were interviewed.
And their thoughts
and stories about how they took
their images recorded.
[projector clicks]
Once she had died,
I started looking
for the originals.
I don't know what ICP has
at this point.
We're now talking
about 30-plus years ago.
[horn beeps]
[man 3] This became not a museum
but the home for photographers
and the home for photography,
and that's what we want to keep,
that's what we want to develop,
and that's what the significance
of ICP is going to be, that.
[soft music playing]
[Brian] A photographer's work
can easily disappear
if there's nobody
looking after it.
Cornell was working with Sheila
in the creation
of the Images of Man series.
[water rushing]
He sent her to London
to research.
And said, "Look up Brian Seed,
he may be able to help you."
My marrying your mother
was due to Cornell.
Cornell is the common link,
actually,
between all of us.
[distant horn beeps]
[phone ringing]
[Brian W.] Brian Wallis.
[Rachel] Hey, Brian,
this is Rachel Seed, uh,
Sheila Turner's daughter.
[Brian W.] Oh, yeah,
right, I remember.
[Rachel] So, my dad told me
that he sent
all my mother's work to ICP
in the '70s.
[Brian W.] Oh, yes.
We could look into that.
Uh, did you want to come here
and do some research?
[Rachel] What I'm really looking
for is her raw interviews,
hearing her talks
with photographers,
'cause I actually have
no memories of her voice.
[sentimental music playing]
[tape button clicks]
[reels whirring]
[microphone distorting]
[man clears his throat]
[Sheila] First thing is, would
you just introduce yourself?
[Cornell] I'm Cornell Capa.
Photographer.
[Sheila laughs]
[Sheila] Again, I just--
I've heard it so many times.
Dammit.
Uh, okay.
[laughing]
We're sitting
in Cornell's happy home.
[Cornell] The dogs are asleep.
[Sheila]
And the dogs are asleep.
-Okay.
-[Cornell chuckles]
-All right.
-Speaking for their mistress.
[Sheila] Yes, as soon
as we start, of course,
the dogs will all wake up
and the fire engines
will start blaring,
but we shall see.
Okay.
[tape button clicking]
[reels whirring]
[tape buttons click]
This is reel, um, five,
Cornell Capa.
I think we should sort of
maybe start at the beginning
and even talk a little bit
about how you became
a photographer.
[Cornell] Certain things
are the property of everyone,
regardless of circumstance.
The air, the sun...
To be able to translate that
into stories
is a great attraction.
Photography is
a universal language.
[Sheila]
That's beautiful.
[reels whirring]
Was there a breakthrough
when everybody started
to look very human to you?
Were there any moments
of connection?
[Rachel] The photos of us
couldn't capture
the real memory...
which was your voice.
[Sheila] Say, "Hey, look.
Look at this, world."
All right.
It's Monday morning
and Mommy's rushing
to get ready to go.
[camera shutter clicks]
[Rachel] It was familiar to me.
[Sheila]
Something new is starting.
Something is ending,
something is beginning.
[baby Rachel coos]
[Rachel]
A memory until that moment
I didn't know I had.
[wind blowing softly]
[playful music playing]
As far back as I can remember,
there were cameras.
So many cameras.
[camera shutter clicks]
This was my first camera.
But we didn't
just film milestones.
We filmed everything.
Do you really need a microphone
on that damn thing?
[Rachel]
Yes, it's a video camera, Dad.
-Oh.
-You're being videoed.
I am being videoed. Okay.
Well, am I looking at my best
is the question.
[camera shutter clicks]
[mellow music playing]
[camera shutter clicks]
[camera shutter clicks]
[Rachel] What were
the magazines and newspapers
you worked for?
[Brian] Oh, well, I mean,
primarily it was Life, Time,
Sports Illustrated,
Sunday Times Magazine,
Sunday Observer Magazine.
[Rachel] Did you meet
Marilyn Monroe?
[Brian] I never met her.
We'd exchange glances, you know.
[Rachel] This is in London.
[Brian] That was an opening
of a play.
-[indistinct chatter]
-[engine rumbling]
I was off at a corner
on up the stairs,
waiting for the moment.
[camera shutter clicks]
And Marilyn knew that I,
as the guy with three Leicas
strung around his neck,
that my photographs would be
seen over a period of time...
[camera clicks]
...unlike the photographs
of the 4x5
camera-wielding people
whose photographs would be in
the next day's newspaper, maybe,
and then lost and gone forever.
[camera shutter clicks]
Oh, this is when we all
went to California in 1957.
Sheila's graduation.
-Cornell.
-[Rachel] Oh, that's cool.
Well, it's written--
[Barry] This says "Sheila's...
thirteenth birthday."
Oh, my God.
This is really great stuff
to have.
[reel whirring]
Oh, it is Kodachrome.
Oh, it's beautiful.
[projector whirring]
[solemn music playing]
I saw you moving
for the first time.
Family footage
of your childhood.
And then of your wedding.
And then, at the end...
I saw the two of us together.
I only remember
not having a mother.
But here is a little girl
who has a mother.
And in this perfect part
of time...
we're together.
[projector whirring]
[children laughing]
[Barry] Well, she was my sister,
my older sister.
My only sister.
She definitely wasn't like
anybody else.
When I was growing up,
I thought she was very stubborn.
My mother said,
"No, determined."
I was seven years old,
my mother had a stroke.
We had to really
behave ourselves.
We couldn't be kids
like kids are.
Sheila would argue
with my father constantly...
[children laughing]
...about anything.
[birds chirping]
And that just made her
more determined.
[Rachel]
"September 1st, 1952."
"Chicago."
[soft music playing]
"On these pages, I shall record
the joys and sorrows
of a 15-year-old girl who's
living in a confused world."
"Sometimes I feel sure
that I want to be a writer."
"And other times, I'm not sure
what I want to do at all."
[seagulls calling]
"August 10th, 1960."
"I feel as though
my state of being
hangs on a thin thread."
[wind blowing]
"Slight breezes push me
into temporary despair."
"Slight encouragements
blow me across
into temporary
self-confidence."
"July 7th, midnight."
"I wish I could see
the way right now."
"I must choose a road
without having any idea
where it will lead me."
"What do I want from myself?"
[paper billows]
[woman 3] So, I think
it's further back.
She wants to be a housewife.
-Good for her.
-And this one.
-Yeah, it says...
-[Hinda] "Happily married."
"Millionaire's wife."
-Do you see the trend?
-Yeah.
[Hinda] Sheila said journalism
supreme is her fondest dream.
The goal, then,
from our parents,
from our backgrounds,
was to get married
and have a family.
That was our goal.
[indistinct chatter, laughter]
[Hinda] So, a lot of the girls
went to college,
and they were going
for "MRS" degrees.
That's what they said.
"I'm going to meet somebody."
[mellow music playing]
[Rachel] "December 9th, 1955."
"First of all, I'm not sure
why I'm at college
or what I want from school."
"I can't decide
if it's more important for me
to learn how to use my mind
or to get a husband."
[Patsy Cline]
When tears come down
[Hinda] Here's Sheila
with Norman,
who she was engaged to
at the time.
[indistinct chatter, laughter]
[Rachel] "I gave him back
his ring yesterday."
"I'm sorry for him, but I just
can't do anything different."
[doorbell jingling]
[Hinda] Her father was
this old Jewish generation.
This pressure by her family
of getting married
was so strong.
[projector whirring]
[pen scratching]
[Rachel] "Mom told me
I should marry him."
"How can my own mother
play with my life that way?"
"Can she really have
my best interests at heart?"
"I must write more."
"I think that writing
is the only way
for me to keep reality."
"Am I losing myself?"
[pen scratching]
[giggling]
[Rachel]
"I need to flee Chicago."
[projector whirring]
[projector shuts off]
[Sheila] And I was gonna
ask you about that.
What--what sort of things
do you wish you had done
that you haven't done?
You seem to have
such a full life, really.
[Cecil] I can't think of myself
in my early 20s and 30s
as having been accepted at all.
[soft music playing]
There's no teacher,
no person who gave me
the right directives.
I did need somebody
to just say,
"Well, stop all this nonsense
and, uh, be yourself."
[tape whirring]
[Sheila] This thing that you
wrote, that you were shy,
and yet you--you tended
to associate so much
with public people.
It's almost a contradiction.
[Cecil] I was very ambitious,
but I didn't know in what way
I would be able
to achieve my ambition.
[camera shutter clicks]
I wanted to break out
of the ranks of anonymity.
My family
were perfectly contented
to be ordinary,
quiet human beings.
I just wanted to be a star.
[Sheila] May I quote you, sir?
[distant horns honking]
[energetic rock music playing]
[female singer]
Well, it's so easy
[Rachel] "January 2nd, 1966."
"I feel a good year coming."
[camera shutter clicks]
"One in which I'll break loose
and live more fully."
"New York City
feels right to me."
"Found a light, airy apartment
on the 10th floor."
[tea kettle whistling]
"I'll walk to work
a different way each day."
-[horns blaring]
-[footsteps]
"Lovely letter
from Dick Robinson
welcoming me."
"He sounds really pleased
I'm coming."
[indistinct lyrics]
[Rachel] "He's my kind
of person."
[indistinct lyrics]
[Rachel] "Smart, kind,
sensitive."
[female singer]
Yeah
Well, it's so easy
[Rachel] I remember
when I was 19,
I came and worked
for a summer here
as an editorial intern.
-Mm-hm.
-[Rachel] And I remember...
I was with
all the other interns,
and you came down
and said hello,
and it seemed like you had
sort of an emotional response
to seeing me.
Oh, of course I did, yeah.
[Rachel] So, what was
going through your mind?
Well, because you were here,
you--and you--
you look like your mom,
so it was sort of like
seeing her.
There was Sheila back again,
you know?
[Sheila] This is Sheila Turner
of Scholastic Magazines.
On this record
you're going to hear
many different opinions
about drugs
that I recently collected
from people
all over the country.
[Dick] She had evolved
from journalism
and writing to audio.
[Sheila] I started doing
documentary records,
and it really was very exciting
to let people tell
their own stories,
because I'd interview them
just like I had done
for writing the stories.
And this way
I edited the sound.
So I became our first
record-maker in house.
Some believe that policemen
are overstepping their bound,
becoming too powerful,
too brutal.
All over the country, cities
are tearing down old buildings,
but not everybody agrees
about what should replace
these old buildings.
Did she come up with
her own story ideas?
A lot--most of them,
yeah, absolutely.
Find a detective with
a James Bond type car
fitted with all types
of [unintelligible] gadgets.
[Dick] I think she just
was curious about everything.
[Rachel] Mm-hm.
[Dick] And she was curious
about the unusual.
For a while,
she took a cameraman with her,
but she grew tired
of this cameraman
and decided she would do it
better herself.
She was so good,
it didn't matter, you know?
And everybody understood that.
[camera clicks]
She had a great touch for
the emotional side of stories.
And she did things
that other women didn't do,
and so she would show up
in places that were surprising.
It's a little bit like
the early female pilots.
She had that
kind of an adventurous spirit.
-[projector whirring]
-[clicking]
[Rachel] "When I left
New York City for Alaska,
Scope editor Dick Robinson
told me
not to fly on small planes."
[soft music playing]
[plane droning]
"But I soon learned
that if I didn't travel
by bush plane,
I would have to go by dogsled."
"Even three weeks
of constant travel
was not enough
to begin to cover Alaska."
"Fairbanks was my next stop."
[Rachel]
So, I found these articles
that Sheila published mostly
in Scholastic, I think.
This map here shows
all the different places
that she flew to.
[woman 4] Yeah, that's
a darn nice thing to have.
It's kind of hard
to imagine today,
but there weren't
that many women in the field.
[gentle music playing]
Sheila was the first person
I met who was in my profession
that thought like I did
and wasn't afraid.
I considered Sheila
my closest friend
because we were
really workaholics.
We were lifeaholics.
We wanted to do everything,
and we wanted to get it all
as fast as we could.
Sheila got to see the world.
[Rachel] "You ought to know
a little bit about my family."
"I suspect that
their collective experience
is part of my baggage
no matter where I travel."
[Sheila] You want to say
a little bit about
your family background?
[Joe] Yes.
[laughing]
[Sheila] What kind
of oppression did you see?
[Joe sighs]
[somber music playing]
[Joe]
[Sheila]
[Joe]
[Sheila]
[Joe]
[Sheila]
[Joe]
[Sheila] "Now, many members
of my family will not travel
outside of U.S. borders.
It is only there
that they feel safe.
Maybe that's one reason why
I have an insatiable desire
to travel everywhere
and to see everything."
Please bring all final
purchases to the front register
For your convenience,
we do open up at 9:00
tomorrow morning.
Thank you for shopping
Army-Navy.
[car dinging]
[whooshing]
[man 4] Wow, that's beautiful.
-That's amazing.
-[Rachel] Wow.
[Joseph] Jesus Christ.
[whooshing]
[Rachel] Ooh, I'm getting it.
How's this trip
for you, Joseph?
How's it going?
How's it going?
It's been mentally
up and down for me.
This is like The Real World
confession room.
Yeah, it sounds like it.
-How's it been?
-Yeah.
[Joseph] Rolling.
No, it just brings
a lot of questions in my mind
of whether romance
and work can work.
[laughing]
[Joseph] Babe, do that
same thing much closer to me.
Do it much closer, like,
even if you're out of focus.
Come forward.
Right through.
[indistinct chatter]
[Joseph] All right, we're done.
[Brian] This is a test.
We're testing this level.
[Sheila] Uh, this is
your captain speaking.
[soft music playing]
You talk about
how you're able to, every day,
get a terrific
concentration of life
because of the nature
of your work.
[projector clicking]
[Brian] The most important thing
to me in my life
is not the photograph,
is not the camera.
The most important thing to me
is that close little circle,
all those people around me.
The people that really make
my life what it is.
And there was
a time in my life
when it wasn't that way.
I let everybody else,
I think, take a back seat,
and I got burnt for it,
so to say.
[Sheila] I think that, maybe,
both things are important,
love and work.
[Brian] If you don't have work
in the right way,
then it really hurts your love.
And if you don't have
the love,
it really hurts your work.
They're both necessary
for each other.
-[microphone thuds]
-[projector whirring]
[Sheila] Can you say something
about the loneliness,
if that's the right word.
[Rachel] In 2005,
I began traveling the world,
photographing women
who lost their mothers
when they were young.
[camera shutter clicking]
I thought that telling
their stories
would make me feel less alone.
[camera shutter clicking]
[soft clicking]
[clicking intensifies]
[Sheila] Who's that?
Who is that?
[Rachel] But what do you do
when your greatest loss...
[Sheila] Yeah.
[Rachel] ...is something
you can't even remember?
[baby] Mama.
[baby babbling]
[Rachel] Maybe
because you died young,
I inherited
your sense of urgency.
And taking pictures quiets
my anxiety about time passing.
It gives us something
to hold on to.
[projector whirring]
With a camera in hand,
we could relax
into the illusion
of immortality.
[projector clicks]
[film warbling]
[classy piano music playing]
Ladies and gentlemen,
hello out there.
Can we have some waves?
Yes, I saw one wave,
so I know you're hearing me,
yeah, everybody.
Our guest tonight
is Sheila Turner,
who is currently
at Scholastic magazine.
She has been working
on film scripts
matched with the words
of the famous photographers.
Sheila, I know you were
a newspaper woman.
[Sheila] Right, early on, I
started getting sent to places
where I had to take
my own pictures,
which is something
I hadn't done before.
So, I took a few courses
around New York,
and I started seeing
that photographers
were really about the most
interesting artists around.
One morning, I just had
this idea that,
because of filmstrips
being what they are
and because of sound
being what it is,
it's a really easy way to get
a photographer's presence
into the classroom because...
She's kind of flirty.
[gentle music playing]
Self-possessed.
[Joseph] She's beautiful, babe,
just like you.
It's just weird,
it's really weird to watch it.
[Joseph] What are you doing
stopping it?
I am processing it.
Every once in a very long while,
I'll have a dream where
my mother is talking to me.
It happened a few days ago.
She called me on the phone.
And, usually, what happens
is she fades away after.
It's like I can't reach her.
[Joseph] But do you remember
what she was...
I don't remember what she was
telling me in that.
[Joseph] Did she call you,
or you call her?
I don't remember,
but she's always
very distant in the dream.
It's like I can't reach her.
What kind of phone is it?
Babe, I don't know
what kind of phone it is.
Let's go to what
we have to show.
We'll make this
the show-and-tell period.
The one you're going to see
is, um, Cartier-Bresson.
I guess it's the seventh one
I've done now.
He is perhaps the world's
preeminent photographer today.
-[man 6] Ms. Turner?
-Yes.
[man 6] Where did you
interview Mr. Bresson?
In his living room.
-That's a good question.
-Which is where?
On the Rue de Rivoli
in Paris, hm.
Bresson eight.
[Henri] Let's go outside.
[Sheila] Okay.
This will be a very good test.
-[birds chirping]
-[children shouting]
[Henri]
[Sheila]
[Henri, in French]
[doorbell ringing]
-[Martine] Hello.
-[Rachel] Bonjour, it's Rachel.
[Martine] Hi, Rachel.
[door buzzing]
[Rachel] Around 1970 or 1971,
my mother came,
I believe it was
to this apartment.
Indeed, it was, yes,
Sheila came right here, yeah.
I've always considered
that interview
that your mother did with Henri
as being the best.
[projector clicking]
[Sheila] Is it too simple
to talk in a way
of the photography, in a way,
saving seconds of time?
[Henri] There's only two thing,
it's an instant.
An eternity,
in between, there's nothing.
L'instant, how do you say that
in English?
The instant.
[Sheila] Have you ever thought,
when you have
this body of work
that you're going
to leave someday,
is there something that
you want it to say as a whole?
I certainly remember
meeting your mother
and finding her very maternal
and very understanding
and allowing Henri just to...
just to talk.
[contemplative music playing]
[Sheila] I was thinking
when I was looking at,
you know, just trying
to understand something
from your pictures
that there's a sense
of what happened before
and what's gonna happen after
in a lot of the pictures.
[Henri] It's a problem of time.
Time.
It is a fundamental thing.
It's a fight with time.
Life is very fluid.
Well, sometimes,
pictures disappear,
and there's nothing you can do,
you can't tell the person,
"Oh, please smile again,
do that gesture again."
There's no repetition.
Life is once forever.
Just so that I have
a memory of you.
[camera shutter clicking]
[Henri] Life changes
every minute.
The world is being created
every minute,
and the world is falling
to pieces every minute.
Death is present everywhere.
As soon as we're born.
And it is
a very beautiful thing...
[speaking French]
...what is tragic in life.
'cause there's always two pulls
and one cannot exist
without the other one.
So, these tensions
I'm always moved by.
[man] Has it changed your life
to work with these men
and on this project?
I've stopped taking pictures.
-That's really what's happened.
-[man 5] That's a good idea.
The world may have lost
a great photographer.
[Sheila] Well...
[Rachel] When you interviewed
Henri Cartier-Bresson,
you called yourself
an amateur photographer.
[soft music playing]
[Sheila] An amateur.
Someone like me
would take a picture
even if we're not sure.
[Rachel] But looking
at your pictures...
I saw your vision
starting to form.
[plane whizzing]
Then I learned,
after one particular adventure,
your work landed on
the front cover of newspapers
around the world.
[sounds of the street]
"I watched Egypt's
farewell to President Nasser
from the roof
of a railroad station
in Ramses Square in Cairo."
[shouting]
"When I arrived at 7:30 a.m.,
thousands of persons
were already waiting."
"Now they tried
every possible perch."
[shouting]
"On buildings, light poles,
and in the square itself."
[shouting]
"By 10:00 a.m., the square
was packed with humans."
"They appeared as one
giant living organism
with millions of flickering
dots and strips...
[shouting]
[Rachel] ...like a cell
under a microscope."
"The coffin,
a simple yellow box,
finally passed through
shortly after noon."
"Got arrested four times
for picture taking."
"Did manage to sell one photo
to AP of Nasser's brother
being carried off
from the coffin."
"And I was the only one
to get that photo."
"There's a freelance cameraman
here named Eric."
"Works mostly for Nat Geo,
CBS, BBC."
"Saw my very presence
as competition."
"He made remarks like,
'Don't get your skirt
caught in the cameras.'"
"I look at TV crews."
"At least they work together."
"But no women."
"I sure like the team idea."
"It's damn lonely out here."
[man on PA] Attention,
the [indistinct] taxi station
is located along the sidewalk
between Exit 8...
[indistinct]
[Rachel] I did find
a camera guy.
It turns out I like
the team idea, too.
Hold on, don't move,
don't move.
I'm gonna get a picture of this.
[indistinct lyrics]
-[laughing]
-[indistinct]
[soft, mellow music playing]
[laughing]
[Rachel] Joseph and I eloped.
[indistinct chatter]
And this is footage
of our tiny courthouse wedding.
[whistling]
My friend Katie,
also a filmmaker,
was my only guest.
Looking back, I'm not sure
if I asked her to shoot
so I'd have a memento
of my wedding...
We got married today.
[Rachel] ...or to have footage
for this film.
On our honeymoon in Cuba,
I spent a lot
of my time alone...
while Joseph was off
taking his own pictures.
The camera was always present.
[Joseph] She doesn't stop
with the filming.
[honking]
[Sheila] Gonna ask you why
you chose to come to New York.
[harp music playing]
Can you say something
about that?
[Rachel] You moved to New York
to run away from your family.
And I moved here to find you.
[Sheila] Did you find anything
you hadn't expected to find?
[Rachel] Right after
I got here,
I went to your
apartment building
to imagine what your life
in New York was like.
[projector clicking]
[Sheila] Did it touch a chord
in you in any way?
[camera shutter clicking]
[Rachel] It did.
'Cause when I found
your photos...
I saw we'd been standing
in the same place.
It's really amazing.
-Hello.
-Hi, Bruce.
-Hi, good to see you.
-How are you?
So, how long have you lived
in this building?
Oh, over 40 years.
Okay. So, when my mother
interviewed you,
-was it in here?
-Yeah, yeah.
Oh, how cool.
I would sit here,
and Sheila would sit there.
[Sheila] You always are
a foreigner
in the places you go into.
[soft music playing]
[Bruce] I always used to say
I was an outsider
on the inside.
Each person has to find
their own way
of experiencing the world.
Photography is my way.
You have a lot
of your mother in you,
'cause I just, I was thinking
your mother was very soothing.
She was like...
like you're in therapy
of some kind.
[Sheila] What was comforting
to you about being alone?
What was... what was...
what was in that?
[Bruce] I think
with photography,
one can communicate
to themselves.
You kind of make a portrait
of yourself
every time you make a portrait.
[Sheila] Did you find out
that you could do anything
that you hadn't known
that you could do?
[Bruce] I think probably one
of the most dangerous things
that one can do
is to look at themselves.
The fear is a fear of finding
one's own inner personal truth.
[clicking]
[mellow music playing]
[Rachel] "January 5th, 1972."
[stylus scratching]
"Quite a year, actually."
[indistinct chatter]
"Two New York Times stories."
"Two Time Life books."
"And two men
who think they love me."
"I realize my people are here,
for better or worse."
[telephone ringing]
[Lael] She was in
with the advertising crowd,
and she knew a lot of writers,
people from The New York Times.
It was really exciting.
She just knew everybody
in the trades, you know,
from journalism, photography,
yeah, that was
kind of a little circle there.
And then Gordon Parks
came along.
[Dick] She got in touch
with Gordon Parks,
and she convinced him to do
some projects for Scholastic,
including a long interview.
[soft reverberation]
[Sheila] This is Sheila Turner
of Scholastic Scope magazine.
Gordon Parks says
he always has been a dreamer.
When he was growing up
in Kansas, in the 1920s,
he dreamed of being
a famous magazine photographer.
Then, he dreamed of making
a Hollywood movie.
He was just finishing
the movie
when I visited with him
in the Warner Brothers
restaurant.
Do you think that kids now
have more opportunities
than when you were growing up?
[Gordon] I think,
certainly, they have
many more opportunities.
I went to Life 21 years ago,
Life magazine,
which was unheard of
of a Black man being hired
for a major magazine,
but again, I walked
into that organization
forgetting I was Black,
and I certainly can't pass
for white, you see?
I suppose I astounded them,
you know, with my brashness
of my capabilities
and potentials as I told them
and that there would be
a great luxury
if they turned me down.
And they took me up on it,
and there I was, you know,
launched 20 years
before, really, my time.
[indistinct chatter]
[Lael] They were very close.
She interviewed the most famous
photographers in the world.
And, sometimes,
those relationships
went well beyond the interview.
[stylus scratching]
[Rachel] "January 5th, 1972."
[soft music playing]
"Posed for Gordon Parks."
"He's using the photo of me
on the cover of his next book."
[stylus scratching]
"Mixed feelings about results."
I set out
to find these photos
that Parks took of you,
but there was no record
of your name
in any of his books
or archives.
After months of searching,
I finally found you
by the sight
of your dark-brown hair
and tall frame.
I grew up admiring
Parks' photos
of the Civil Rights movement
and so many other
historical milestones.
So, I was surprised to find
that amongst his photos...
were pictures of you.
You were one of 25 nameless,
faceless women in the book.
I imagine you might have felt
flattered at being asked,
but that had also reinforced
the idea for you
that your value
was in your body.
[stylus scratching]
[Rachel] "I feel
an incompatibility
between femininity
and competence."
"I have the feeling that
I'll never be perfectly happy."
"Am I just inadequate
for the world
I want to move in?"
" Revealing myself scares me."
"What am I hiding?"
As near as I could see,
all the guys
that she was dating,
none of 'em quite measured up
to Dick Roberts.
-[honking]
-[stylus scratching]
[Rachel] "November 10th, 1970."
"Life will get hectic now."
[paper rustling]
"Many other men appearing
at the fringes."
-[chuckling]
-[camera shutter clicking]
[glasses clinking]
"Dick has a lot of work planned
with a lot of travel,
and I'm hooked."
[camera shutter clicking]
"I'll try to enjoy it
without crossing the line."
-[distant telephone ringing]
-[camera shutter clicking]
"I must, or I must leave."
[camera shutter clicking]
"I work till the end,
hoping I'll be alone with him."
[camera shutter clicking]
"Then, he leaves
a terrible emptiness."
[soft piano music playing]
Did you ever get the sense
that she was interested in you
more than just that?
Well, I think we were, you know,
connected emotionally.
I admired her,
and she was fun,
and she had a lot of drive.
There certainly was
some chemistry there.
[Lael] Did you know Gabriel?
[Rachel] No.
[Lael] Gabriel was
a good Jewish boy
she was supposed to marry.
[man 7] We met on a bike trip
to Long Island.
We must have been riding
close to each other,
because she fell off her bike.
And so, I stopped,
and, uh, I, uh,
helped her dust herself and,
and get back on the bike,
and this is how--how we
kind of started to talk.
Sheila was my best friend.
She was, uh, a partner to me.
But, uh, she didn't have
any home obligation.
We kind of lived our lives
from day to day.
We never talked
about future plans.
These are fabulous.
These three pictures
are of a vacation
that we spent
on the island of St. Maarten.
This is me as the captain.
[Gabriel chuckles]
[waves softly breaking]
[Rachel] "December 25th, 1968."
"Up at 6:00 a.m.
for Christmas."
"Don't know what I want yet
this year."
"My mood is extreme
vacillation."
"I told him
I could never commit myself."
"Though he's a really nice,
solid guy,
he just doesn't fit
with my idea of who I am."
"Whatever that means."
[Gabriel] The end of '71,
Sheila became pregnant.
And, uh, she told me
that she wanted to--
to undergo an abortion.
I wasn't exactly
in favor of the abortion.
That more or less brought
our relationship to an end.
[Rachel] How did that
affect you?
[sighs]
It, uh...
it hurt.
[pensive music playing]
I took it harder than she did.
[Rachel] And did you ever have
children after that?
No. No.
'Cause I, I didn't get married,
and, uh, no.
Happy birthday
Dear Auntie Rachie
Happy birthday to you
Yay! Thank you, Jude,
that was so sweet!
[Rachel]
[Rachel] In my own life,
I've had complicated feelings
about motherhood.
Joseph wanted a family
from day one.
But I wasn't so sure.
I don't have a feeling of safety
in having children.
I feel like,
if my mother was here,
then she would help me
transition into being a mother.
[Joseph]
I haven't made--
[Joseph]
Babe, I didn't say that.
[singing in Hebrew]
[Rachel] On one hand,
I desperately wanted a family.
On the other,
I was plagued by the fear
of leaving them behind.
And beyond that,
the tensions
in our relationship
made me question
whether we should take
that next step together.
[soft roar of plane's engines]
So, I flew out to L.A.
to get some space
to sort out my mind...
and to finish this film.
[man 8] And action!
[Rachel] Pretty soon,
I realized
I didn't wanna go back.
-[Joseph] Do you love me?
-Yep.
Then, after five years
of marriage...
Joseph and I separated.
[staticky hum]
[Sheila] All right.
This is a test.
We are trying
to get rid of a buzz,
a bug and a buzz.
What do you see
as your own future plan,
if you really had your way?
-[William] Suicide.
-[laughter]
[Sheila] Any idea what direction
you wanna take yourself in?
[William] I never used to worry
or really think about it.
I guess lately,
I'd have to admit
I'm a little more concerned.
The travel involved
in being a photographer
has become wearisome.
[crossing bell clangs faintly]
I'm tired of motels
and getting on airplanes.
I'm tired of being lonely.
[Sheila] I wonder
if it's growth,
you know, I mean, if it's
a kind of personal maturity
that gives your own private
life more richness,
and then you don't seek so much
from outside, I wonder.
[William] Yeah.
Because I know, just recently,
I've needed that relationship
with my family
so much more so
than ever before.
I guess I've realized
how much time has gone by.
And if this stops me
from growing as a photographer,
I'd be willing to pay
that price,
because photography,
it's what I do,
but it is not totally me.
[machine clicks off]
Give me the box.
[Rachel] I shall, in a moment.
[Brian] "Letters to Sheila,"
that's my writing, so.
[Rachel] Can I see?
[Brian] "Where to begin?"
"Though my head has been
full of thoughts of you
and for you
during the past few days,
recollecting these thoughts
for a letter never seems easy."
"What is good about New York
is you."
"I feel that I can be
close to you,
and I like what I see
when I am close to you."
"In all of the important ways,
you are both virtuous
and beautiful."
Very romantic.
Well, I was-- I was
very romantic with her, I was.
[Rachel] "January 23rd, 1972."
"Letter from Brian."
"I have much doubt and fear."
"He's a luxury
designed for good times."
"Gabriel would be better
for a war, probably."
"Vaguely, I feel Gabriel
is good in the way
that my family has taught me
to think is good."
"But I need more than
my family as well, somehow."
"I do want to be a mother,
as common as that activity is."
"Question is, will I continue
to grow as a writer,
editor, photographer?"
"Will I want to?"
[soft music playing]
Press play.
Wherever play is, in here.
[Rachel] It's in the middle--
no, no, no.
Oh--there, yeah,
all right, okay.
Who's that? That looks
like you, but it's not.
[Rachel] No, this is 1948
or something.
-There's my mother.
-[Brian] Where?
[Rachel] Right there.
Blowing out the candles.
-[Brian] Not your mother.
-[Rachel] Yes, it is!
[Brian] No, it isn't;
it looks like you.
-[Rachel] Well, it's her.
-[Brian] God, it looks like you.
They're having a gay old time,
aren't they?
[Rachel] So, what do you think
of looking at that footage?
Well, I hope there's more;
I find it fun.
[Rachel] Fun?
It's not emotional to see it?
[Brian] Not really, no; heck,
I mean, it's too far back now.
Oh, it's our wedding day,
I do believe.
[Rachel] Who's
that handsome guy?
[Brian] Oh, my God,
he's looking pretty young.
His hair's a bit wild even then.
[indistinct chatter]
[wistful music playing]
There's the camper
that we took off in.
[Brian chuckles]
Bloody thing broke down after
'bout a couple hundred miles
out of Chicago.
[cork pops]
[chatter, laughter]
[engine puttering]
[faint traffic noises]
[Rachel] Not long after
I filmed this scene,
I learned Dad's memory
was starting to fade.
And as that's happened,
I see him hanging on
only to the good times,
even mentally rewriting
his own story
to avoid the pain of his past.
Memories are subjective,
more influenced
by feelings than facts.
Is a photograph actually
a record of something?
Or is it meaningless
without our interpretation?
[Sheila] But isn't it true
that sometimes,
you're feeling something,
and somehow,
it doesn't really
come across in the pictures?
[shutter snapping,
faint conversation]
[mechanical whirring]
[machinery beeping]
[faint cries of baby]
[soft, wondrous music playing]
[baby babbling]
[Sheila] Well, we are now
on Friday night, yes.
[baby babbles]
Yeah! You threw your duckie
out of the bathtub!
[baby fussing]
It's okay, oh!
Do you have anything to say
to Grandpa or to Grandma?
[baby babbling]
What's up, sweetheart?
Are you tired? Do you want
to go back to your sleep?
[Rachel] Do you think
she ever knew
that there was a chance
that she might get sick,
or that she had--
[Dick] Yes. She definitely knew
that this was a possibility.
It was genetic.
Your grandmother had had
a similar incident,
or there was something
in the family.
But I remember Sheila telling me
that, you know, "I could
be walking across the street
and die right on the spot."
She told me that.
[Rachel] "April 8th, 1979.
London."
"We have Rachel,
one and a half."
"Rachel is still perfect,
the age of human perfection."
"Probably all downhill
from here."
"Tomorrow, we leave
for one year in the U.S."
"I need it."
"Dislike England."
"I need the energy and openness
of my world at home."
[Sheila] What's the matter?
You want me to talk to you
and not to the tape recording?
[Rachel] "How we'll manage that
is not yet figured out,
and Brian and I
must find some luck
that will keep our temperaments
from destroying each other."
[Brian] No, it does
have to stay behind the back.
[Sheila] It's so close,
you'll hear
distortion in your voice.
[Brian] Yeah. Okay.
We take your word for it,
but I think you're wrong.
[Rachel] "I have
to start writing again,
to get back into my own skin."
"Images of Man
has been a great success
and has given me
a certain amount of prestige
in the photographic world."
"I hope we can do good work,
still be parents to our kid,
still like each other,
and come back with enough work
to keep us afloat
for the foreseeable future."
[film projector clicking]
[Sheila] Bresson 10.
[Henri] Excuse me,
what did you ask me?
[Sheila] About-- we should
talk perhaps a little bit
about your philosophy
about your tools.
[machine clicks off]
[Henri] It can be a sketchbook,
the camera.
And even for me, that's
strictly my way of feeling.
I enjoy shooting a picture,
being present.
It's a way of saying,
"Yes! Yes, yes."
[tranquil music playing]
[Rachel] Your programs
won many awards...
and were the first
of their kind to feature
photographers' philosophies
paired with their images.
But when I look closely,
your credit was hard to find...
and your voice was missing.
[projector clicks]
So, I imagine your work
on the stage it deserved.
[Lisette] My name is
Lisette Model.
I'm a photographer
and a teacher in photography.
The camera is
an instrument of detection.
We photograph what we know,
and also what we don't know.
And when I point
my camera at something,
I'm asking a question.
In the photograph
sometimes is the answer.
[Sheila] I think, in a sense,
it's what I'm always
trying to get at,
is why certain pictures
really are certain
photographers' pictures,
and why you know
that the pictures were made
with the same head
and the same pair of eyes,
and the same feelings.
[Lisette] You know, Sheila,
you have a genius
of asking questions
one can't answer.
It's like,
if you want to explain
the quintessence
of what you are.
You can't.
Maybe you shouldn't, even.
[Lael] I had been
talking to her
the day before she died.
[clicking of film projector]
Brian was comin' in,
and she had an assignment
for Scholastic.
And she'd locked herself
out of the car
with the car running.
And she had
this screaming headache
that would not go away.
She said she'd never had
anything like it.
Life had taken
so many different turns,
and it was a moment
when she was very apprehensive.
[wind faintly gusting]
[papers crinkling]
[Brian]
"Mrs. Sheila Turner-Seed, 42,
freelance writer
and film editor,
died of a cerebral hemorrhage
Thursday in Evanston Hospital."
[paper crinkling]
It's the 22nd of June,
and shortly,
I will be going
to the memorial service
and the funeral for Sheila.
[rabbi] As we now ask
the family to please rise
and to recite Kaddish.
[rabbi, mourners
recite in Hebrew]
[Rachel] Seeing the photograph
of myself
standing next to your grave,
I can't even look
at that picture.
It's a memory I don't have
and I don't want.
[faint birdsong]
Too hard for words.
And it's a great big
bloody shame
that sometimes, the best people
get taken early, you know?
So.
That's-- Sheila, my love,
I wish you were here still.
Very lovely woman.
A very lovely woman.
Much missed.
[man 8] Is everyone ready
on camera?
[cameraman] Ready, got the shot.
[man 9] Okay, we're open up
on camera.
Let's do it. Showtime!
[woman 5] And places.
[Sheila] Does the world
look different to you now?
[Rachel] People say
I remind them of you.
[contemplative music playing]
And when I meet people
you were close to...
I feel close to them, too.
Like I'm looking
through your eyes.
[Sheila] How do you keep
your own perspective?
[Rachel] In a lot of ways,
my obsession with this story
has kept me stuck in the past.
It meant giving up so much
that was important to me.
[Sheila] You invested
more in this project
than any other
you've ever done.
Do you have any idea why?
[Rachel] I had no choice.
How could I know myself
if I didn't know you?
[Sheila] Well,
at a certain point,
you have to live your own life.
[inaudible]
I suppose that
I'm really asking,
did you finish it,
in your own mind?
[Rachel] Well,
I'll always miss you.
[film projector clicking]
Now I have a picture of you.
And I no longer feel
like I have to look back.
[projector clicks off]
This is something, this'll
be good, you'll like it.
No matter what kind of format
you're working in,
you're gonna have
some kinds of limitations.
And the thing is,
within those limitations,
there are-- there's
an infinite variety of things.
You don't wanna have all the
possibilities in the world,
you'd go outta your mind,
you couldn't, anyway.
Well, okay.
Ladies and gentlemen,
we're coming up to time,
so, we'll look forward
to seeing you two weeks hence.
We'll say goodnight for now.
[show's pop
theme music playing]
[gasps] That's the whole thing?
Aww!
I feel sad
that that's the whole thing.
-[man 9] It's not enough.
-It's not enough.
I don't want an hour and a half,
I want,
you know, a year, 10 years,
20 years, 30 years.
[mournful music playing]
In a way, it makes it harder...
to know more of, like,
what it was that I missed.
[inaudible]
[liquid gently sloshing]
[music intensifies, distorts]
[Sheila] Do you know
what you want to do now?
[distorted ambient
music playing]
[gentle music playing]
[Eliot] Small plant
comes up in the spring,
then it blooms,
and then it goes to seed,
and then it dies.
This isn't the end of it.
This is just-- this isn't
the beginning, either.
It's a continuing process.
There was a very
close relationship
between life and death.
And the death itself
was just the beginning
of some new kind of growth.
[Sheila] Yes, and in a way,
I suppose it gets
too philosophical,
but, almost,
a picture takes on
another kind of life
because of what happens
afterward, sometimes.
[Sheila laughs] Okay, well,
thank you very much,
I think we got plenty.
[intense music playing]
[microphone rumbling]
[woman]
This is a test.
[tape button clicks]
I want to see
how the sound is working.
[microphone rustling]
Yes, there we are,
some sign of life
has returned to the world here.
But still, it doesn't seem
to be as much as it ought to.
Let's see
what's happening here.
[indistinct chatter]
[woman] You can edit
the whole thing,
take out everything you don't
really want [indistinct].
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[indistinct soft speaking]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
[woman]
Reel three, Bresson.
[microphone rumbling]
Is it too simple
to talk in a way of--
of the photography, in a way,
saving seconds of time?
[Henri]
I don't know.
Life is very fluid.
Well, um, sometimes a picture
has disappeared,
nothing you can do.
You can't tell the person,
"Oh, please smile again,
do that gesture again."
Life is once forever.
[reel whirring]
[tape button clicks]
[tape button clicks]
All right, the first
phone number I'm gonna call
is... David Appel.
[phone notification]
[woman 2] Your call cannot
be completed as dialed.
Should I call her accountant?
That's kind of silly, right?
Nobody's close
to their accountant.
We're sorry,
you have reached a number
that has been disconnected.
Helen Cook,
she was the nanny in England.
No phone number though.
[phone line squealing]
[groans]
Did you happen to know a woman
named Sheila Turner Seed?
Okay, sorry about that,
thank you.
[busy signal]
There's one more number here,
so I'll try it.
[phone ringing]
[man] Yes?
Hi, my name is Rachel Seed,
I'm Sheila Turner Seed's
daughter.
[man]
Sheila--oh my God.
Sheila--
It's Sheila Turner's daughter.
How are you?
I'm good,
I'm actually calling people
from her address book,
and I'm collecting stories,
and I'm learning
about who she was,
because she died
when I was so young.
[man] How old were you
when she died?
I was 18 months old
when she died.
[man] Oh, then you didn't
really know her.
Your mother was
a remarkable storyteller.
I know she went
to Latin America...
[tape button clicks]
[Rachel] I have no memories
of my mother.
[Sheila] The derry-o
The farmer in the dell
[Sheila vocalizing]
[Rachel] And when I set out
to find her a few years back...
she was basically
a stranger to me.
[Sheila] Derry-o
The farmer takes a wife
[microphone rumbling]
[Sheila]
It might be interesting...
[Rachel] My dad never
talked much about her.
[indistinct speaking]
Except to tell me that
she was an accomplished writer
and photographer,
way ahead of her time.
[Sheila]
Showing your pictures that...
[train rattling]
[Rachel] But it wasn't until
I became a photographer myself
that I started
to become curious
about the work she created.
And whether,
in the pages of her transcripts
and contact sheets...
her journals
and her audio tapes...
["Possibility"
by Lykke Li playing]
...I might also find her.
[vocalizing]
[Lykke Li]
Know that when you leave
By blood and by me
You walk like a thief
By blood and by me
And I fall when you leave
[vocalizing]
[tape button clicks]
[birds chirping]
[man 2] The fate
of an old photographer
is to be photographed himself.
And now his fate is to have
a camera stuck into his face
by his darling daughter.
[camera chirps]
This is not
all that easy to use.
You kind of have
to get used to it, you know?
-Sometimes people get--
-Very hard to focus.
God. Oh, it's impossible
to focus.
-Really?
-You're welcome to it.
Keep it.
[Rachel] Let me see.
Were you surprised why I decided
to become a photographer?
I mean,
you've obviously inherited
some of her qualities
and some of her interests.
Which actually probably would
be my interests as well,
so where it comes from,
we don't know.
[soft, mysterious music playing]
[Rachel]
One of my earliest memories
was of my dad hiding out
in his basement darkroom...
[scissors snip]
...lost in his pictures.
[projector clicks]
He captured my childhood
in stock photos...
[projector clicks]
...which he licensed
to support our family.
[projector clicks]
They had captions like
"8 year-old's birthday party."
[projector clicks]
"Child watches Sesame Street."
[projector clicks]
"Friends blowing bubbles."
[projector clicks]
In this fantasy world,
my dad wasn't a widower.
[projector clicks]
And I wasn't a girl
without a mom.
[birds chirping]
[Brian] How much longer
are you here now?
I've asked you this question
probably 15 times.
-[Rachel] A few more days.
-Few more days.
I'm gonna miss
my lovely daughter.
Dad, I'm here, I've been here
half the whole year.
I know, I know, I know, I know.
But even so...
It's no good.
And actually tears
are coming to my eyes.
Can you believe that?
Kind of silly, isn't it?
-You're emotional.
-Hm?
-You're emotional.
-I am, I am.
I have to be 'cause...
Why?
I don't know.
'Cause I'm just
a little lonely boy
all by himself.
[Rachel] Well, I was
a little lonely girl.
Well, I'm very sorry about it.
I mean, you weren't--
I did my best for you not to be
a lonely girl most of all.
You don't want my past,
I'll tell you that.
You may think your past
wasn't all that brilliant.
Well, I didn't get to see
my mother at all.
All right.
Let's see who suffered the most.
[mellow music playing]
These are Time negatives,
and they're identified,
actually,
because I do believe...
Old London photographs.
Oh, and by the way,
up there are actual prints.
By now, these are old prints
that were made in the days
when I was printing.
[stairs creaking]
Important photographers
were interviewed.
And their thoughts
and stories about how they took
their images recorded.
[projector clicks]
Once she had died,
I started looking
for the originals.
I don't know what ICP has
at this point.
We're now talking
about 30-plus years ago.
[horn beeps]
[man 3] This became not a museum
but the home for photographers
and the home for photography,
and that's what we want to keep,
that's what we want to develop,
and that's what the significance
of ICP is going to be, that.
[soft music playing]
[Brian] A photographer's work
can easily disappear
if there's nobody
looking after it.
Cornell was working with Sheila
in the creation
of the Images of Man series.
[water rushing]
He sent her to London
to research.
And said, "Look up Brian Seed,
he may be able to help you."
My marrying your mother
was due to Cornell.
Cornell is the common link,
actually,
between all of us.
[distant horn beeps]
[phone ringing]
[Brian W.] Brian Wallis.
[Rachel] Hey, Brian,
this is Rachel Seed, uh,
Sheila Turner's daughter.
[Brian W.] Oh, yeah,
right, I remember.
[Rachel] So, my dad told me
that he sent
all my mother's work to ICP
in the '70s.
[Brian W.] Oh, yes.
We could look into that.
Uh, did you want to come here
and do some research?
[Rachel] What I'm really looking
for is her raw interviews,
hearing her talks
with photographers,
'cause I actually have
no memories of her voice.
[sentimental music playing]
[tape button clicks]
[reels whirring]
[microphone distorting]
[man clears his throat]
[Sheila] First thing is, would
you just introduce yourself?
[Cornell] I'm Cornell Capa.
Photographer.
[Sheila laughs]
[Sheila] Again, I just--
I've heard it so many times.
Dammit.
Uh, okay.
[laughing]
We're sitting
in Cornell's happy home.
[Cornell] The dogs are asleep.
[Sheila]
And the dogs are asleep.
-Okay.
-[Cornell chuckles]
-All right.
-Speaking for their mistress.
[Sheila] Yes, as soon
as we start, of course,
the dogs will all wake up
and the fire engines
will start blaring,
but we shall see.
Okay.
[tape button clicking]
[reels whirring]
[tape buttons click]
This is reel, um, five,
Cornell Capa.
I think we should sort of
maybe start at the beginning
and even talk a little bit
about how you became
a photographer.
[Cornell] Certain things
are the property of everyone,
regardless of circumstance.
The air, the sun...
To be able to translate that
into stories
is a great attraction.
Photography is
a universal language.
[Sheila]
That's beautiful.
[reels whirring]
Was there a breakthrough
when everybody started
to look very human to you?
Were there any moments
of connection?
[Rachel] The photos of us
couldn't capture
the real memory...
which was your voice.
[Sheila] Say, "Hey, look.
Look at this, world."
All right.
It's Monday morning
and Mommy's rushing
to get ready to go.
[camera shutter clicks]
[Rachel] It was familiar to me.
[Sheila]
Something new is starting.
Something is ending,
something is beginning.
[baby Rachel coos]
[Rachel]
A memory until that moment
I didn't know I had.
[wind blowing softly]
[playful music playing]
As far back as I can remember,
there were cameras.
So many cameras.
[camera shutter clicks]
This was my first camera.
But we didn't
just film milestones.
We filmed everything.
Do you really need a microphone
on that damn thing?
[Rachel]
Yes, it's a video camera, Dad.
-Oh.
-You're being videoed.
I am being videoed. Okay.
Well, am I looking at my best
is the question.
[camera shutter clicks]
[mellow music playing]
[camera shutter clicks]
[camera shutter clicks]
[Rachel] What were
the magazines and newspapers
you worked for?
[Brian] Oh, well, I mean,
primarily it was Life, Time,
Sports Illustrated,
Sunday Times Magazine,
Sunday Observer Magazine.
[Rachel] Did you meet
Marilyn Monroe?
[Brian] I never met her.
We'd exchange glances, you know.
[Rachel] This is in London.
[Brian] That was an opening
of a play.
-[indistinct chatter]
-[engine rumbling]
I was off at a corner
on up the stairs,
waiting for the moment.
[camera shutter clicks]
And Marilyn knew that I,
as the guy with three Leicas
strung around his neck,
that my photographs would be
seen over a period of time...
[camera clicks]
...unlike the photographs
of the 4x5
camera-wielding people
whose photographs would be in
the next day's newspaper, maybe,
and then lost and gone forever.
[camera shutter clicks]
Oh, this is when we all
went to California in 1957.
Sheila's graduation.
-Cornell.
-[Rachel] Oh, that's cool.
Well, it's written--
[Barry] This says "Sheila's...
thirteenth birthday."
Oh, my God.
This is really great stuff
to have.
[reel whirring]
Oh, it is Kodachrome.
Oh, it's beautiful.
[projector whirring]
[solemn music playing]
I saw you moving
for the first time.
Family footage
of your childhood.
And then of your wedding.
And then, at the end...
I saw the two of us together.
I only remember
not having a mother.
But here is a little girl
who has a mother.
And in this perfect part
of time...
we're together.
[projector whirring]
[children laughing]
[Barry] Well, she was my sister,
my older sister.
My only sister.
She definitely wasn't like
anybody else.
When I was growing up,
I thought she was very stubborn.
My mother said,
"No, determined."
I was seven years old,
my mother had a stroke.
We had to really
behave ourselves.
We couldn't be kids
like kids are.
Sheila would argue
with my father constantly...
[children laughing]
...about anything.
[birds chirping]
And that just made her
more determined.
[Rachel]
"September 1st, 1952."
"Chicago."
[soft music playing]
"On these pages, I shall record
the joys and sorrows
of a 15-year-old girl who's
living in a confused world."
"Sometimes I feel sure
that I want to be a writer."
"And other times, I'm not sure
what I want to do at all."
[seagulls calling]
"August 10th, 1960."
"I feel as though
my state of being
hangs on a thin thread."
[wind blowing]
"Slight breezes push me
into temporary despair."
"Slight encouragements
blow me across
into temporary
self-confidence."
"July 7th, midnight."
"I wish I could see
the way right now."
"I must choose a road
without having any idea
where it will lead me."
"What do I want from myself?"
[paper billows]
[woman 3] So, I think
it's further back.
She wants to be a housewife.
-Good for her.
-And this one.
-Yeah, it says...
-[Hinda] "Happily married."
"Millionaire's wife."
-Do you see the trend?
-Yeah.
[Hinda] Sheila said journalism
supreme is her fondest dream.
The goal, then,
from our parents,
from our backgrounds,
was to get married
and have a family.
That was our goal.
[indistinct chatter, laughter]
[Hinda] So, a lot of the girls
went to college,
and they were going
for "MRS" degrees.
That's what they said.
"I'm going to meet somebody."
[mellow music playing]
[Rachel] "December 9th, 1955."
"First of all, I'm not sure
why I'm at college
or what I want from school."
"I can't decide
if it's more important for me
to learn how to use my mind
or to get a husband."
[Patsy Cline]
When tears come down
[Hinda] Here's Sheila
with Norman,
who she was engaged to
at the time.
[indistinct chatter, laughter]
[Rachel] "I gave him back
his ring yesterday."
"I'm sorry for him, but I just
can't do anything different."
[doorbell jingling]
[Hinda] Her father was
this old Jewish generation.
This pressure by her family
of getting married
was so strong.
[projector whirring]
[pen scratching]
[Rachel] "Mom told me
I should marry him."
"How can my own mother
play with my life that way?"
"Can she really have
my best interests at heart?"
"I must write more."
"I think that writing
is the only way
for me to keep reality."
"Am I losing myself?"
[pen scratching]
[giggling]
[Rachel]
"I need to flee Chicago."
[projector whirring]
[projector shuts off]
[Sheila] And I was gonna
ask you about that.
What--what sort of things
do you wish you had done
that you haven't done?
You seem to have
such a full life, really.
[Cecil] I can't think of myself
in my early 20s and 30s
as having been accepted at all.
[soft music playing]
There's no teacher,
no person who gave me
the right directives.
I did need somebody
to just say,
"Well, stop all this nonsense
and, uh, be yourself."
[tape whirring]
[Sheila] This thing that you
wrote, that you were shy,
and yet you--you tended
to associate so much
with public people.
It's almost a contradiction.
[Cecil] I was very ambitious,
but I didn't know in what way
I would be able
to achieve my ambition.
[camera shutter clicks]
I wanted to break out
of the ranks of anonymity.
My family
were perfectly contented
to be ordinary,
quiet human beings.
I just wanted to be a star.
[Sheila] May I quote you, sir?
[distant horns honking]
[energetic rock music playing]
[female singer]
Well, it's so easy
[Rachel] "January 2nd, 1966."
"I feel a good year coming."
[camera shutter clicks]
"One in which I'll break loose
and live more fully."
"New York City
feels right to me."
"Found a light, airy apartment
on the 10th floor."
[tea kettle whistling]
"I'll walk to work
a different way each day."
-[horns blaring]
-[footsteps]
"Lovely letter
from Dick Robinson
welcoming me."
"He sounds really pleased
I'm coming."
[indistinct lyrics]
[Rachel] "He's my kind
of person."
[indistinct lyrics]
[Rachel] "Smart, kind,
sensitive."
[female singer]
Yeah
Well, it's so easy
[Rachel] I remember
when I was 19,
I came and worked
for a summer here
as an editorial intern.
-Mm-hm.
-[Rachel] And I remember...
I was with
all the other interns,
and you came down
and said hello,
and it seemed like you had
sort of an emotional response
to seeing me.
Oh, of course I did, yeah.
[Rachel] So, what was
going through your mind?
Well, because you were here,
you--and you--
you look like your mom,
so it was sort of like
seeing her.
There was Sheila back again,
you know?
[Sheila] This is Sheila Turner
of Scholastic Magazines.
On this record
you're going to hear
many different opinions
about drugs
that I recently collected
from people
all over the country.
[Dick] She had evolved
from journalism
and writing to audio.
[Sheila] I started doing
documentary records,
and it really was very exciting
to let people tell
their own stories,
because I'd interview them
just like I had done
for writing the stories.
And this way
I edited the sound.
So I became our first
record-maker in house.
Some believe that policemen
are overstepping their bound,
becoming too powerful,
too brutal.
All over the country, cities
are tearing down old buildings,
but not everybody agrees
about what should replace
these old buildings.
Did she come up with
her own story ideas?
A lot--most of them,
yeah, absolutely.
Find a detective with
a James Bond type car
fitted with all types
of [unintelligible] gadgets.
[Dick] I think she just
was curious about everything.
[Rachel] Mm-hm.
[Dick] And she was curious
about the unusual.
For a while,
she took a cameraman with her,
but she grew tired
of this cameraman
and decided she would do it
better herself.
She was so good,
it didn't matter, you know?
And everybody understood that.
[camera clicks]
She had a great touch for
the emotional side of stories.
And she did things
that other women didn't do,
and so she would show up
in places that were surprising.
It's a little bit like
the early female pilots.
She had that
kind of an adventurous spirit.
-[projector whirring]
-[clicking]
[Rachel] "When I left
New York City for Alaska,
Scope editor Dick Robinson
told me
not to fly on small planes."
[soft music playing]
[plane droning]
"But I soon learned
that if I didn't travel
by bush plane,
I would have to go by dogsled."
"Even three weeks
of constant travel
was not enough
to begin to cover Alaska."
"Fairbanks was my next stop."
[Rachel]
So, I found these articles
that Sheila published mostly
in Scholastic, I think.
This map here shows
all the different places
that she flew to.
[woman 4] Yeah, that's
a darn nice thing to have.
It's kind of hard
to imagine today,
but there weren't
that many women in the field.
[gentle music playing]
Sheila was the first person
I met who was in my profession
that thought like I did
and wasn't afraid.
I considered Sheila
my closest friend
because we were
really workaholics.
We were lifeaholics.
We wanted to do everything,
and we wanted to get it all
as fast as we could.
Sheila got to see the world.
[Rachel] "You ought to know
a little bit about my family."
"I suspect that
their collective experience
is part of my baggage
no matter where I travel."
[Sheila] You want to say
a little bit about
your family background?
[Joe] Yes.
[laughing]
[Sheila] What kind
of oppression did you see?
[Joe sighs]
[somber music playing]
[Joe]
[Sheila]
[Joe]
[Sheila]
[Joe]
[Sheila]
[Joe]
[Sheila] "Now, many members
of my family will not travel
outside of U.S. borders.
It is only there
that they feel safe.
Maybe that's one reason why
I have an insatiable desire
to travel everywhere
and to see everything."
Please bring all final
purchases to the front register
For your convenience,
we do open up at 9:00
tomorrow morning.
Thank you for shopping
Army-Navy.
[car dinging]
[whooshing]
[man 4] Wow, that's beautiful.
-That's amazing.
-[Rachel] Wow.
[Joseph] Jesus Christ.
[whooshing]
[Rachel] Ooh, I'm getting it.
How's this trip
for you, Joseph?
How's it going?
How's it going?
It's been mentally
up and down for me.
This is like The Real World
confession room.
Yeah, it sounds like it.
-How's it been?
-Yeah.
[Joseph] Rolling.
No, it just brings
a lot of questions in my mind
of whether romance
and work can work.
[laughing]
[Joseph] Babe, do that
same thing much closer to me.
Do it much closer, like,
even if you're out of focus.
Come forward.
Right through.
[indistinct chatter]
[Joseph] All right, we're done.
[Brian] This is a test.
We're testing this level.
[Sheila] Uh, this is
your captain speaking.
[soft music playing]
You talk about
how you're able to, every day,
get a terrific
concentration of life
because of the nature
of your work.
[projector clicking]
[Brian] The most important thing
to me in my life
is not the photograph,
is not the camera.
The most important thing to me
is that close little circle,
all those people around me.
The people that really make
my life what it is.
And there was
a time in my life
when it wasn't that way.
I let everybody else,
I think, take a back seat,
and I got burnt for it,
so to say.
[Sheila] I think that, maybe,
both things are important,
love and work.
[Brian] If you don't have work
in the right way,
then it really hurts your love.
And if you don't have
the love,
it really hurts your work.
They're both necessary
for each other.
-[microphone thuds]
-[projector whirring]
[Sheila] Can you say something
about the loneliness,
if that's the right word.
[Rachel] In 2005,
I began traveling the world,
photographing women
who lost their mothers
when they were young.
[camera shutter clicking]
I thought that telling
their stories
would make me feel less alone.
[camera shutter clicking]
[soft clicking]
[clicking intensifies]
[Sheila] Who's that?
Who is that?
[Rachel] But what do you do
when your greatest loss...
[Sheila] Yeah.
[Rachel] ...is something
you can't even remember?
[baby] Mama.
[baby babbling]
[Rachel] Maybe
because you died young,
I inherited
your sense of urgency.
And taking pictures quiets
my anxiety about time passing.
It gives us something
to hold on to.
[projector whirring]
With a camera in hand,
we could relax
into the illusion
of immortality.
[projector clicks]
[film warbling]
[classy piano music playing]
Ladies and gentlemen,
hello out there.
Can we have some waves?
Yes, I saw one wave,
so I know you're hearing me,
yeah, everybody.
Our guest tonight
is Sheila Turner,
who is currently
at Scholastic magazine.
She has been working
on film scripts
matched with the words
of the famous photographers.
Sheila, I know you were
a newspaper woman.
[Sheila] Right, early on, I
started getting sent to places
where I had to take
my own pictures,
which is something
I hadn't done before.
So, I took a few courses
around New York,
and I started seeing
that photographers
were really about the most
interesting artists around.
One morning, I just had
this idea that,
because of filmstrips
being what they are
and because of sound
being what it is,
it's a really easy way to get
a photographer's presence
into the classroom because...
She's kind of flirty.
[gentle music playing]
Self-possessed.
[Joseph] She's beautiful, babe,
just like you.
It's just weird,
it's really weird to watch it.
[Joseph] What are you doing
stopping it?
I am processing it.
Every once in a very long while,
I'll have a dream where
my mother is talking to me.
It happened a few days ago.
She called me on the phone.
And, usually, what happens
is she fades away after.
It's like I can't reach her.
[Joseph] But do you remember
what she was...
I don't remember what she was
telling me in that.
[Joseph] Did she call you,
or you call her?
I don't remember,
but she's always
very distant in the dream.
It's like I can't reach her.
What kind of phone is it?
Babe, I don't know
what kind of phone it is.
Let's go to what
we have to show.
We'll make this
the show-and-tell period.
The one you're going to see
is, um, Cartier-Bresson.
I guess it's the seventh one
I've done now.
He is perhaps the world's
preeminent photographer today.
-[man 6] Ms. Turner?
-Yes.
[man 6] Where did you
interview Mr. Bresson?
In his living room.
-That's a good question.
-Which is where?
On the Rue de Rivoli
in Paris, hm.
Bresson eight.
[Henri] Let's go outside.
[Sheila] Okay.
This will be a very good test.
-[birds chirping]
-[children shouting]
[Henri]
[Sheila]
[Henri, in French]
[doorbell ringing]
-[Martine] Hello.
-[Rachel] Bonjour, it's Rachel.
[Martine] Hi, Rachel.
[door buzzing]
[Rachel] Around 1970 or 1971,
my mother came,
I believe it was
to this apartment.
Indeed, it was, yes,
Sheila came right here, yeah.
I've always considered
that interview
that your mother did with Henri
as being the best.
[projector clicking]
[Sheila] Is it too simple
to talk in a way
of the photography, in a way,
saving seconds of time?
[Henri] There's only two thing,
it's an instant.
An eternity,
in between, there's nothing.
L'instant, how do you say that
in English?
The instant.
[Sheila] Have you ever thought,
when you have
this body of work
that you're going
to leave someday,
is there something that
you want it to say as a whole?
I certainly remember
meeting your mother
and finding her very maternal
and very understanding
and allowing Henri just to...
just to talk.
[contemplative music playing]
[Sheila] I was thinking
when I was looking at,
you know, just trying
to understand something
from your pictures
that there's a sense
of what happened before
and what's gonna happen after
in a lot of the pictures.
[Henri] It's a problem of time.
Time.
It is a fundamental thing.
It's a fight with time.
Life is very fluid.
Well, sometimes,
pictures disappear,
and there's nothing you can do,
you can't tell the person,
"Oh, please smile again,
do that gesture again."
There's no repetition.
Life is once forever.
Just so that I have
a memory of you.
[camera shutter clicking]
[Henri] Life changes
every minute.
The world is being created
every minute,
and the world is falling
to pieces every minute.
Death is present everywhere.
As soon as we're born.
And it is
a very beautiful thing...
[speaking French]
...what is tragic in life.
'cause there's always two pulls
and one cannot exist
without the other one.
So, these tensions
I'm always moved by.
[man] Has it changed your life
to work with these men
and on this project?
I've stopped taking pictures.
-That's really what's happened.
-[man 5] That's a good idea.
The world may have lost
a great photographer.
[Sheila] Well...
[Rachel] When you interviewed
Henri Cartier-Bresson,
you called yourself
an amateur photographer.
[soft music playing]
[Sheila] An amateur.
Someone like me
would take a picture
even if we're not sure.
[Rachel] But looking
at your pictures...
I saw your vision
starting to form.
[plane whizzing]
Then I learned,
after one particular adventure,
your work landed on
the front cover of newspapers
around the world.
[sounds of the street]
"I watched Egypt's
farewell to President Nasser
from the roof
of a railroad station
in Ramses Square in Cairo."
[shouting]
"When I arrived at 7:30 a.m.,
thousands of persons
were already waiting."
"Now they tried
every possible perch."
[shouting]
"On buildings, light poles,
and in the square itself."
[shouting]
"By 10:00 a.m., the square
was packed with humans."
"They appeared as one
giant living organism
with millions of flickering
dots and strips...
[shouting]
[Rachel] ...like a cell
under a microscope."
"The coffin,
a simple yellow box,
finally passed through
shortly after noon."
"Got arrested four times
for picture taking."
"Did manage to sell one photo
to AP of Nasser's brother
being carried off
from the coffin."
"And I was the only one
to get that photo."
"There's a freelance cameraman
here named Eric."
"Works mostly for Nat Geo,
CBS, BBC."
"Saw my very presence
as competition."
"He made remarks like,
'Don't get your skirt
caught in the cameras.'"
"I look at TV crews."
"At least they work together."
"But no women."
"I sure like the team idea."
"It's damn lonely out here."
[man on PA] Attention,
the [indistinct] taxi station
is located along the sidewalk
between Exit 8...
[indistinct]
[Rachel] I did find
a camera guy.
It turns out I like
the team idea, too.
Hold on, don't move,
don't move.
I'm gonna get a picture of this.
[indistinct lyrics]
-[laughing]
-[indistinct]
[soft, mellow music playing]
[laughing]
[Rachel] Joseph and I eloped.
[indistinct chatter]
And this is footage
of our tiny courthouse wedding.
[whistling]
My friend Katie,
also a filmmaker,
was my only guest.
Looking back, I'm not sure
if I asked her to shoot
so I'd have a memento
of my wedding...
We got married today.
[Rachel] ...or to have footage
for this film.
On our honeymoon in Cuba,
I spent a lot
of my time alone...
while Joseph was off
taking his own pictures.
The camera was always present.
[Joseph] She doesn't stop
with the filming.
[honking]
[Sheila] Gonna ask you why
you chose to come to New York.
[harp music playing]
Can you say something
about that?
[Rachel] You moved to New York
to run away from your family.
And I moved here to find you.
[Sheila] Did you find anything
you hadn't expected to find?
[Rachel] Right after
I got here,
I went to your
apartment building
to imagine what your life
in New York was like.
[projector clicking]
[Sheila] Did it touch a chord
in you in any way?
[camera shutter clicking]
[Rachel] It did.
'Cause when I found
your photos...
I saw we'd been standing
in the same place.
It's really amazing.
-Hello.
-Hi, Bruce.
-Hi, good to see you.
-How are you?
So, how long have you lived
in this building?
Oh, over 40 years.
Okay. So, when my mother
interviewed you,
-was it in here?
-Yeah, yeah.
Oh, how cool.
I would sit here,
and Sheila would sit there.
[Sheila] You always are
a foreigner
in the places you go into.
[soft music playing]
[Bruce] I always used to say
I was an outsider
on the inside.
Each person has to find
their own way
of experiencing the world.
Photography is my way.
You have a lot
of your mother in you,
'cause I just, I was thinking
your mother was very soothing.
She was like...
like you're in therapy
of some kind.
[Sheila] What was comforting
to you about being alone?
What was... what was...
what was in that?
[Bruce] I think
with photography,
one can communicate
to themselves.
You kind of make a portrait
of yourself
every time you make a portrait.
[Sheila] Did you find out
that you could do anything
that you hadn't known
that you could do?
[Bruce] I think probably one
of the most dangerous things
that one can do
is to look at themselves.
The fear is a fear of finding
one's own inner personal truth.
[clicking]
[mellow music playing]
[Rachel] "January 5th, 1972."
[stylus scratching]
"Quite a year, actually."
[indistinct chatter]
"Two New York Times stories."
"Two Time Life books."
"And two men
who think they love me."
"I realize my people are here,
for better or worse."
[telephone ringing]
[Lael] She was in
with the advertising crowd,
and she knew a lot of writers,
people from The New York Times.
It was really exciting.
She just knew everybody
in the trades, you know,
from journalism, photography,
yeah, that was
kind of a little circle there.
And then Gordon Parks
came along.
[Dick] She got in touch
with Gordon Parks,
and she convinced him to do
some projects for Scholastic,
including a long interview.
[soft reverberation]
[Sheila] This is Sheila Turner
of Scholastic Scope magazine.
Gordon Parks says
he always has been a dreamer.
When he was growing up
in Kansas, in the 1920s,
he dreamed of being
a famous magazine photographer.
Then, he dreamed of making
a Hollywood movie.
He was just finishing
the movie
when I visited with him
in the Warner Brothers
restaurant.
Do you think that kids now
have more opportunities
than when you were growing up?
[Gordon] I think,
certainly, they have
many more opportunities.
I went to Life 21 years ago,
Life magazine,
which was unheard of
of a Black man being hired
for a major magazine,
but again, I walked
into that organization
forgetting I was Black,
and I certainly can't pass
for white, you see?
I suppose I astounded them,
you know, with my brashness
of my capabilities
and potentials as I told them
and that there would be
a great luxury
if they turned me down.
And they took me up on it,
and there I was, you know,
launched 20 years
before, really, my time.
[indistinct chatter]
[Lael] They were very close.
She interviewed the most famous
photographers in the world.
And, sometimes,
those relationships
went well beyond the interview.
[stylus scratching]
[Rachel] "January 5th, 1972."
[soft music playing]
"Posed for Gordon Parks."
"He's using the photo of me
on the cover of his next book."
[stylus scratching]
"Mixed feelings about results."
I set out
to find these photos
that Parks took of you,
but there was no record
of your name
in any of his books
or archives.
After months of searching,
I finally found you
by the sight
of your dark-brown hair
and tall frame.
I grew up admiring
Parks' photos
of the Civil Rights movement
and so many other
historical milestones.
So, I was surprised to find
that amongst his photos...
were pictures of you.
You were one of 25 nameless,
faceless women in the book.
I imagine you might have felt
flattered at being asked,
but that had also reinforced
the idea for you
that your value
was in your body.
[stylus scratching]
[Rachel] "I feel
an incompatibility
between femininity
and competence."
"I have the feeling that
I'll never be perfectly happy."
"Am I just inadequate
for the world
I want to move in?"
" Revealing myself scares me."
"What am I hiding?"
As near as I could see,
all the guys
that she was dating,
none of 'em quite measured up
to Dick Roberts.
-[honking]
-[stylus scratching]
[Rachel] "November 10th, 1970."
"Life will get hectic now."
[paper rustling]
"Many other men appearing
at the fringes."
-[chuckling]
-[camera shutter clicking]
[glasses clinking]
"Dick has a lot of work planned
with a lot of travel,
and I'm hooked."
[camera shutter clicking]
"I'll try to enjoy it
without crossing the line."
-[distant telephone ringing]
-[camera shutter clicking]
"I must, or I must leave."
[camera shutter clicking]
"I work till the end,
hoping I'll be alone with him."
[camera shutter clicking]
"Then, he leaves
a terrible emptiness."
[soft piano music playing]
Did you ever get the sense
that she was interested in you
more than just that?
Well, I think we were, you know,
connected emotionally.
I admired her,
and she was fun,
and she had a lot of drive.
There certainly was
some chemistry there.
[Lael] Did you know Gabriel?
[Rachel] No.
[Lael] Gabriel was
a good Jewish boy
she was supposed to marry.
[man 7] We met on a bike trip
to Long Island.
We must have been riding
close to each other,
because she fell off her bike.
And so, I stopped,
and, uh, I, uh,
helped her dust herself and,
and get back on the bike,
and this is how--how we
kind of started to talk.
Sheila was my best friend.
She was, uh, a partner to me.
But, uh, she didn't have
any home obligation.
We kind of lived our lives
from day to day.
We never talked
about future plans.
These are fabulous.
These three pictures
are of a vacation
that we spent
on the island of St. Maarten.
This is me as the captain.
[Gabriel chuckles]
[waves softly breaking]
[Rachel] "December 25th, 1968."
"Up at 6:00 a.m.
for Christmas."
"Don't know what I want yet
this year."
"My mood is extreme
vacillation."
"I told him
I could never commit myself."
"Though he's a really nice,
solid guy,
he just doesn't fit
with my idea of who I am."
"Whatever that means."
[Gabriel] The end of '71,
Sheila became pregnant.
And, uh, she told me
that she wanted to--
to undergo an abortion.
I wasn't exactly
in favor of the abortion.
That more or less brought
our relationship to an end.
[Rachel] How did that
affect you?
[sighs]
It, uh...
it hurt.
[pensive music playing]
I took it harder than she did.
[Rachel] And did you ever have
children after that?
No. No.
'Cause I, I didn't get married,
and, uh, no.
Happy birthday
Dear Auntie Rachie
Happy birthday to you
Yay! Thank you, Jude,
that was so sweet!
[Rachel]
[Rachel] In my own life,
I've had complicated feelings
about motherhood.
Joseph wanted a family
from day one.
But I wasn't so sure.
I don't have a feeling of safety
in having children.
I feel like,
if my mother was here,
then she would help me
transition into being a mother.
[Joseph]
I haven't made--
[Joseph]
Babe, I didn't say that.
[singing in Hebrew]
[Rachel] On one hand,
I desperately wanted a family.
On the other,
I was plagued by the fear
of leaving them behind.
And beyond that,
the tensions
in our relationship
made me question
whether we should take
that next step together.
[soft roar of plane's engines]
So, I flew out to L.A.
to get some space
to sort out my mind...
and to finish this film.
[man 8] And action!
[Rachel] Pretty soon,
I realized
I didn't wanna go back.
-[Joseph] Do you love me?
-Yep.
Then, after five years
of marriage...
Joseph and I separated.
[staticky hum]
[Sheila] All right.
This is a test.
We are trying
to get rid of a buzz,
a bug and a buzz.
What do you see
as your own future plan,
if you really had your way?
-[William] Suicide.
-[laughter]
[Sheila] Any idea what direction
you wanna take yourself in?
[William] I never used to worry
or really think about it.
I guess lately,
I'd have to admit
I'm a little more concerned.
The travel involved
in being a photographer
has become wearisome.
[crossing bell clangs faintly]
I'm tired of motels
and getting on airplanes.
I'm tired of being lonely.
[Sheila] I wonder
if it's growth,
you know, I mean, if it's
a kind of personal maturity
that gives your own private
life more richness,
and then you don't seek so much
from outside, I wonder.
[William] Yeah.
Because I know, just recently,
I've needed that relationship
with my family
so much more so
than ever before.
I guess I've realized
how much time has gone by.
And if this stops me
from growing as a photographer,
I'd be willing to pay
that price,
because photography,
it's what I do,
but it is not totally me.
[machine clicks off]
Give me the box.
[Rachel] I shall, in a moment.
[Brian] "Letters to Sheila,"
that's my writing, so.
[Rachel] Can I see?
[Brian] "Where to begin?"
"Though my head has been
full of thoughts of you
and for you
during the past few days,
recollecting these thoughts
for a letter never seems easy."
"What is good about New York
is you."
"I feel that I can be
close to you,
and I like what I see
when I am close to you."
"In all of the important ways,
you are both virtuous
and beautiful."
Very romantic.
Well, I was-- I was
very romantic with her, I was.
[Rachel] "January 23rd, 1972."
"Letter from Brian."
"I have much doubt and fear."
"He's a luxury
designed for good times."
"Gabriel would be better
for a war, probably."
"Vaguely, I feel Gabriel
is good in the way
that my family has taught me
to think is good."
"But I need more than
my family as well, somehow."
"I do want to be a mother,
as common as that activity is."
"Question is, will I continue
to grow as a writer,
editor, photographer?"
"Will I want to?"
[soft music playing]
Press play.
Wherever play is, in here.
[Rachel] It's in the middle--
no, no, no.
Oh--there, yeah,
all right, okay.
Who's that? That looks
like you, but it's not.
[Rachel] No, this is 1948
or something.
-There's my mother.
-[Brian] Where?
[Rachel] Right there.
Blowing out the candles.
-[Brian] Not your mother.
-[Rachel] Yes, it is!
[Brian] No, it isn't;
it looks like you.
-[Rachel] Well, it's her.
-[Brian] God, it looks like you.
They're having a gay old time,
aren't they?
[Rachel] So, what do you think
of looking at that footage?
Well, I hope there's more;
I find it fun.
[Rachel] Fun?
It's not emotional to see it?
[Brian] Not really, no; heck,
I mean, it's too far back now.
Oh, it's our wedding day,
I do believe.
[Rachel] Who's
that handsome guy?
[Brian] Oh, my God,
he's looking pretty young.
His hair's a bit wild even then.
[indistinct chatter]
[wistful music playing]
There's the camper
that we took off in.
[Brian chuckles]
Bloody thing broke down after
'bout a couple hundred miles
out of Chicago.
[cork pops]
[chatter, laughter]
[engine puttering]
[faint traffic noises]
[Rachel] Not long after
I filmed this scene,
I learned Dad's memory
was starting to fade.
And as that's happened,
I see him hanging on
only to the good times,
even mentally rewriting
his own story
to avoid the pain of his past.
Memories are subjective,
more influenced
by feelings than facts.
Is a photograph actually
a record of something?
Or is it meaningless
without our interpretation?
[Sheila] But isn't it true
that sometimes,
you're feeling something,
and somehow,
it doesn't really
come across in the pictures?
[shutter snapping,
faint conversation]
[mechanical whirring]
[machinery beeping]
[faint cries of baby]
[soft, wondrous music playing]
[baby babbling]
[Sheila] Well, we are now
on Friday night, yes.
[baby babbles]
Yeah! You threw your duckie
out of the bathtub!
[baby fussing]
It's okay, oh!
Do you have anything to say
to Grandpa or to Grandma?
[baby babbling]
What's up, sweetheart?
Are you tired? Do you want
to go back to your sleep?
[Rachel] Do you think
she ever knew
that there was a chance
that she might get sick,
or that she had--
[Dick] Yes. She definitely knew
that this was a possibility.
It was genetic.
Your grandmother had had
a similar incident,
or there was something
in the family.
But I remember Sheila telling me
that, you know, "I could
be walking across the street
and die right on the spot."
She told me that.
[Rachel] "April 8th, 1979.
London."
"We have Rachel,
one and a half."
"Rachel is still perfect,
the age of human perfection."
"Probably all downhill
from here."
"Tomorrow, we leave
for one year in the U.S."
"I need it."
"Dislike England."
"I need the energy and openness
of my world at home."
[Sheila] What's the matter?
You want me to talk to you
and not to the tape recording?
[Rachel] "How we'll manage that
is not yet figured out,
and Brian and I
must find some luck
that will keep our temperaments
from destroying each other."
[Brian] No, it does
have to stay behind the back.
[Sheila] It's so close,
you'll hear
distortion in your voice.
[Brian] Yeah. Okay.
We take your word for it,
but I think you're wrong.
[Rachel] "I have
to start writing again,
to get back into my own skin."
"Images of Man
has been a great success
and has given me
a certain amount of prestige
in the photographic world."
"I hope we can do good work,
still be parents to our kid,
still like each other,
and come back with enough work
to keep us afloat
for the foreseeable future."
[film projector clicking]
[Sheila] Bresson 10.
[Henri] Excuse me,
what did you ask me?
[Sheila] About-- we should
talk perhaps a little bit
about your philosophy
about your tools.
[machine clicks off]
[Henri] It can be a sketchbook,
the camera.
And even for me, that's
strictly my way of feeling.
I enjoy shooting a picture,
being present.
It's a way of saying,
"Yes! Yes, yes."
[tranquil music playing]
[Rachel] Your programs
won many awards...
and were the first
of their kind to feature
photographers' philosophies
paired with their images.
But when I look closely,
your credit was hard to find...
and your voice was missing.
[projector clicks]
So, I imagine your work
on the stage it deserved.
[Lisette] My name is
Lisette Model.
I'm a photographer
and a teacher in photography.
The camera is
an instrument of detection.
We photograph what we know,
and also what we don't know.
And when I point
my camera at something,
I'm asking a question.
In the photograph
sometimes is the answer.
[Sheila] I think, in a sense,
it's what I'm always
trying to get at,
is why certain pictures
really are certain
photographers' pictures,
and why you know
that the pictures were made
with the same head
and the same pair of eyes,
and the same feelings.
[Lisette] You know, Sheila,
you have a genius
of asking questions
one can't answer.
It's like,
if you want to explain
the quintessence
of what you are.
You can't.
Maybe you shouldn't, even.
[Lael] I had been
talking to her
the day before she died.
[clicking of film projector]
Brian was comin' in,
and she had an assignment
for Scholastic.
And she'd locked herself
out of the car
with the car running.
And she had
this screaming headache
that would not go away.
She said she'd never had
anything like it.
Life had taken
so many different turns,
and it was a moment
when she was very apprehensive.
[wind faintly gusting]
[papers crinkling]
[Brian]
"Mrs. Sheila Turner-Seed, 42,
freelance writer
and film editor,
died of a cerebral hemorrhage
Thursday in Evanston Hospital."
[paper crinkling]
It's the 22nd of June,
and shortly,
I will be going
to the memorial service
and the funeral for Sheila.
[rabbi] As we now ask
the family to please rise
and to recite Kaddish.
[rabbi, mourners
recite in Hebrew]
[Rachel] Seeing the photograph
of myself
standing next to your grave,
I can't even look
at that picture.
It's a memory I don't have
and I don't want.
[faint birdsong]
Too hard for words.
And it's a great big
bloody shame
that sometimes, the best people
get taken early, you know?
So.
That's-- Sheila, my love,
I wish you were here still.
Very lovely woman.
A very lovely woman.
Much missed.
[man 8] Is everyone ready
on camera?
[cameraman] Ready, got the shot.
[man 9] Okay, we're open up
on camera.
Let's do it. Showtime!
[woman 5] And places.
[Sheila] Does the world
look different to you now?
[Rachel] People say
I remind them of you.
[contemplative music playing]
And when I meet people
you were close to...
I feel close to them, too.
Like I'm looking
through your eyes.
[Sheila] How do you keep
your own perspective?
[Rachel] In a lot of ways,
my obsession with this story
has kept me stuck in the past.
It meant giving up so much
that was important to me.
[Sheila] You invested
more in this project
than any other
you've ever done.
Do you have any idea why?
[Rachel] I had no choice.
How could I know myself
if I didn't know you?
[Sheila] Well,
at a certain point,
you have to live your own life.
[inaudible]
I suppose that
I'm really asking,
did you finish it,
in your own mind?
[Rachel] Well,
I'll always miss you.
[film projector clicking]
Now I have a picture of you.
And I no longer feel
like I have to look back.
[projector clicks off]
This is something, this'll
be good, you'll like it.
No matter what kind of format
you're working in,
you're gonna have
some kinds of limitations.
And the thing is,
within those limitations,
there are-- there's
an infinite variety of things.
You don't wanna have all the
possibilities in the world,
you'd go outta your mind,
you couldn't, anyway.
Well, okay.
Ladies and gentlemen,
we're coming up to time,
so, we'll look forward
to seeing you two weeks hence.
We'll say goodnight for now.
[show's pop
theme music playing]
[gasps] That's the whole thing?
Aww!
I feel sad
that that's the whole thing.
-[man 9] It's not enough.
-It's not enough.
I don't want an hour and a half,
I want,
you know, a year, 10 years,
20 years, 30 years.
[mournful music playing]
In a way, it makes it harder...
to know more of, like,
what it was that I missed.
[inaudible]
[liquid gently sloshing]
[music intensifies, distorts]
[Sheila] Do you know
what you want to do now?
[distorted ambient
music playing]
[gentle music playing]
[Eliot] Small plant
comes up in the spring,
then it blooms,
and then it goes to seed,
and then it dies.
This isn't the end of it.
This is just-- this isn't
the beginning, either.
It's a continuing process.
There was a very
close relationship
between life and death.
And the death itself
was just the beginning
of some new kind of growth.
[Sheila] Yes, and in a way,
I suppose it gets
too philosophical,
but, almost,
a picture takes on
another kind of life
because of what happens
afterward, sometimes.
[Sheila laughs] Okay, well,
thank you very much,
I think we got plenty.