Baum T. Man Ray's Paris Portraits, 1921-39

Salvador Dali Museum, 1997. — 140 p."Why Man Ray?", one can immediately inquire. Certainly because he was the finest of his profession. Finest, as in most proficient: measured by the highest quality of imagination mixed with technical prowess. With all such vigorous encomiums, one can still question how a foreigner, particularly one so recently arrived in Paris, could have such a resounding impact on a society so notorious for its obdurate rigidity and related judgmental barriers. And not only was this gentleman a foreigner, but a Dadaist as well.Throughout his career as portrait photographer, there was always an endless dribble of schemes and suggestions by others concerning how Man could enhance his career and related earnings. Except for the inevitable acceptance of contracts with fashion houses and fashion magazines, he politely excused himself from such offers. One of the more diverting proposals was that proffered by Aleister Crowley (once
described to Hemingway as "the wickedest man in the world").