is someone I have known since childhood. He is someone I always have respected with the highest regard, but for so long he floated in my consciousness as somewhat of a mystery [what has he done with his years? At 12 there was never much grasp of these bigger lifelines]. My father is a colleague of his; we are all family friends.
When I came nearby for undergrad, our relationship began (growing). We began looking together back into the fieldwork photography that fueled all of Gerry’s career.
Deep in his beautiful Kensington house that overlooks the entire San Francisco Bay, his office is nestled. It feels rich with the past. His past unfurls via any zoomed-in notice paid to each photo, each trinket, each gem of a lost time.
We unfurl his past each Wednesday.
We: he married his current wife Keiko Yamanaka some years ago. She is less aged than he. Keiko supports our weekly archiving by her warm, productive presence. She sits behind Gerry, hand on his shoulder, sometimes resting her head onto him. She asks him smart questions, and sometimes they are too smart (she is also a professor at UC Berkeley) for the small aim of extracting simple memory.
Our three chairs (olive green) make a triangle as we gaze into the screen of streams of photos.
The goal is a research archive that allows everyone access to the richness of his work.
Photo annotation. Web publication. Multimedia reflection and recollection.