Then one day, he stopped as abruptly as he started. He put away both his camera and his photographs, never to return to them.
Sixty years later, sheltered in place during the COVID pandemic, award-winning author Michael Tisserand (Krazy, The Kingdom of Zydeco, Sugarcane Academy) pulled out a dusty box of forgotten family mementos. Inside, among other things, he found two grey steel cases, each containing tidy rows of Kodachrome slides, most of them unmarked. He pulled a few at random and held them, one at a time, to the light.
At first, he didn't understand what he was seeing. Here was the work of a photographer with a curious eye and a unique perspective. An artist.
Then he realized the photos had been taken by someone he never knewhis father when he was young.
Today, Jerry Tisserand's remarkable work adds a brief but vivid chapter to the history of American street photography, introducing an artist who, for a fleeting time, documented "sights seen, strangers encountered, friends loved, passions felt," as Michael Tisserand writes in his intimate introduction to My Father When Young.
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