Uncle Harry and Mackey

UNCLE HARRY, North Woodmere, New York, 1978
Black and white photograph created with 120 film, 20” x 20”, Artist’s Collection

My uncle, Harry Dick, from Newark, New Jersey, is visiting my family in Long Island. Harry, an accountant, is known in the family as miserly and mean-spirited. I, however, have a sweetness for him. He always seemed to light up when I entered the room. I love his name, and learned that teenagers would call him on the phone and mock him. “Are you a Hairy Dick?” they would ask before laughing and hanging up. Harry looks a bit clownish in his sweater and slacks. The only thing I ever had in common with Harry Dick was that certain sweetness, which I hope will never leave. And I’m thankful I was never born into the Dick family.

MACKEY, New York City, 2024
Digital color print, 20” x 20”,
Artist’s Collection

Mackey, my son, is visiting me in my apartment in New York. His wife, Weilin, is in the other room. Mackey seems very comfortable in the photo, hands in pockets like Uncle Harry. When Mackey smiles as his mask does, I very much see my own smile. I can feel him smiling through the mask. In this image, I see his laid-back comfort as mine. Harry never had a son or a daughter. He probably didn’t want to spend the money. Mackey and Weilin are not interested in having children. Mackey was named after a baseball player for the New York Mets and the protagonist, Mack the Knife, in The Three Penny Opera. Seeing him in my mask, I imagine we share a love for baseball and theatre. And yet, when he isn’t masked, he has little interest in either. Our deeper connection feels always unmasked and sweet.