Duane Michals Had No Regrets

The photographer Duane Michals died on June 9, 2026, in New York, the place he lived all through his lengthy and prolific life. In 2022, Michals spoke with Jesse Dorris for Aperture’s Summer 2022 subject, “Sleepwalking,” visitor edited by Alec Soth. Here is their dialog. —The Editors

Duane Michals doesn’t mince phrases—about his images, or anybody else’s. And why ought to he? Born in 1932 in McKeesport, Pennsylvania, Michals had traveled the world by age thirty, from the truck stops of Texas to military service in Germany to the gray-gold panorama of Cold War Russia. By the mid-Sixties, he discovered a house in downtown New York, a associate within the late architect Fred Gorrée, and the sort of success in business and editorial images that allowed him to take dangers in his personal work: constructing sequences with the theatrical engagement of cinema, staging narratives about queer needs, and including textual content in his unmistakable script. Michals risked sentimentality in pursuit of speaking about “unphotographable things.”

In September 2021, within the balm of late summer time, Michals welcomed Jesse Dorris into the Gramercy Park house Michals shared for many years with Gorrée. Among framed images and stacks of books—Michals has revealed greater than forty—they spoke about want and destiny. “I am moved by my work,” Michals says. “The deep contentment of having written a really good sentence or having taken a really good picture, knowing that I’ve done it, is very sweet. It makes me melancholy . . . in a nice way.”

Jesse Dorris: What’s the distinction between luck and destiny?

Duane Michals: Fate is destiny. You’re predestined. This dialog was destined to occur. We’re simply fulfilling the future. I don’t consider in that. I consider in accidents. I consider in spontaneous combustion. I consider that each second we’re inventing a brand new universe. I consider in . . . [Sings] “I believe in magic . . . ” I even have a tune for each event.

Dorris: I’m curious as to the way you make the choice between staging a second and prepared one thing to occur, or organising an event and simply letting one thing magical occur, or going out and stumbling upon one thing.

Michals: Instinct. I belief my intuition greater than I belief me. I’m fully unreliable. I wouldn’t belief me if my life trusted it. I’m going to my hometown in McKeesport, making a film this weekend. McKeesport has fallen on onerous occasions. It’s collapsed. Imploded. I used to go to the library on a regular basis. I as soon as took out a guide 9 occasions, they usually wouldn’t let me have it anymore. I by no means acquired over it.

Dorris: What was the guide?

Michals: It was referred to as Cities of America. There had been images of each main metropolis. I wasn’t all for images. I used to be within the cities. Fred and I had a home within the nation for forty-four years, close to Bennington, within the woods. I used to construct mannequin cities within the woods.

Dorris: Did you ever strike up a extra architectural apply along with your images?

Michals: Oh, no. Fred was an architect, and that was one of many the explanation why I used to be enchanted by him—as a result of I needed to be an architect. He labored for Marcel Breuer for a very long time, then he labored for Skidmore, Owings & Merrill, then he went on his personal. But he was by no means formidable. He was extra of a homebody. I used to be at all times formidable. Buddhists say . . . the Hindus say (excuse me, improper sect) that in life you need simply sufficient—not an excessive amount of, not too little, simply sufficient. I’ve had simply sufficient ambition to not turn into Mapplethorpe, who, I felt, for any individual so “professionally gay,” had little or no perception on the topic. I had a long-term relationship with my Fred—and we had been additionally homosexual. My entire life has been simply sufficient.

Dorris: How are you aware it’s simply sufficient?

Michals: It fits me. I’ve fantastic instincts. I’m not hip, I’m not cool, however I’m charming.

Dorris: We’re on this time the place we’re anticipated to make self-portraits of ourselves on a regular basis . . .

Michals: That’s why it’s referred to as “self-portrait.”

Dorris: Yes, precisely. For Instagram, for courting profiles, for skilled causes, we’re at all times anticipated to have the ability to make these representations of ourselves. How do you are taking a self-portrait that’s expressive of your self?

Michals: I really feel that you simply turn into the artist whenever you convey perception. It’s one factor to {photograph} any individual, nevertheless it’s one other factor to convey perception, to annotate, to increase the second of expression. Because, in the end, portraiture is just anatomy, and folks like portraits primarily as a result of they suppose they could look good. I as soon as photographed a man, and I heard he beloved the image. Then I heard he appreciated it as a result of his nostril regarded small. No matter what the image regarded like, all he noticed was a nostril. Any image of me the place I look bald, I’m not thrilled.

Dorris: Do you sleep effectively?

Michals: As Marilyn Monroe stated so succinctly, I sleep with the radio on.

Dorris: I do too.

Michals: Nothing in life prepares you for being previous. Being previous ought to be a reward, not a punishment. The solely remorse I’ll have once I die is that I’ll miss all of the work I haven’t completed. But additionally, the opposite factor stated about being previous is that you should have extra regrets. I’ve completed all the things—not everybody—however all the things that I’ve at all times needed to do.

Dorris: You’ve completed all the things you’ve at all times needed to do?

Michals: Yes. I’ve been in all places, completed all the things . . . I received’t journey anymore. I made about forty-one mini-movies. I’ve no ambitions for Hollywood. But if a studio referred to as and stated, “We have an extra three million dollars laying around. Would you like to play with it?” Of course, I might say sure. I at all times say, “I shoot first and ask questions later.” I don’t procrastinate.

Dorris: How do you not procrastinate?

Michals: I’ve an enormous curiosity. Everything is about curiosity. And when you have no curiosity, then go watch tv and jack off, or jack off after which watch tv.

Dorris: It is dependent upon what you’re watching.

Michals: Exactly. Good. You’re maintaining.

Dorris: It appears that curiosity is, possibly, what has propelled you to push the types of your work.

Michals: Oh, at all times. Another quote for you is: “You are either defined by the medium or you’re redefining the medium.” And I redefined images. When I got here on the scene, the definition of images was “reportage, reportage, documentation.” That was it. And portraiture. When I had an exhibition referred to as Sequences on the Underground Gallery, Garry Winogrand got here, and he stated to me, “What is this? This isn’t photography.” I assumed, Well, that’s not your images. But in these days, I didn’t understand the way it was thought-about a no-no. Completely. Then, once I started to write down on images, I ran right into a instructor from the School of Visual Arts, and he stated, “What are you doing? The scuttlebutt at school is that your photographs are so bad you have to write under them to explain them.” I stated, “Tell them in five years they’re all going to be writing on photographs.” The factor is that it’s so easy. Text has at all times gone with photos. You choose up a Daily News and there’s a image of Donald Trump as he falls down a flight of steps off of Air Force One and breaks his hair. The caption tells you what you see. I used to be the information editor on our high-school paper. So I write with the pictures to let you know what you may’t see. Photographs fail consistently.

Dorris: Do you suppose that a few of the resistance to that was since you’re asserting that images are failures?

Michals: Yes.

Dorris: That there are issues that images can’t do.

Michals: Totally. I did Empty New York within the mid-Sixties impressed by Atget, after which I did a shot of a bar on Third Avenue, and the title of the image was There Are Things Here Not Seen in This Photograph (1977). The textual content says one thing like: “It was a very hot day. I come into the bar. I want a beer. I notice there’s a cockroach going up the stool leg of the bar. On the jukebox somebody was singing ‘Southern Nights.’ Two drunks are arguing about Nixon in the corner. A bum was coming toward me to ask for money. It’s time to leave.”

Dorris: Why would you like viewers of the pictures to know all of these issues?

Michals: Because I’m doing a narrative, and it’s setting the stage. It’s a complete surroundings. I’m supplying you with the hum, the noise, the road sound. I’m telling you what the occasion was. It’s not an commentary. I’m sharing an occasion. I’ve expanded the {photograph} from being a silent object. My different factor is: Don’t inform me what I already know. Contradict me. I simply did an article for the Queer Critique Group of Baxter Street and I ended it with: “Picture this. A room. A dark room. In the room are a table, chair, and a bed. Two naked men are standing there. Very, very close to each other. They’re almost touching. And then what happens?” I like the premise. Because the photographer doesn’t give me then what occurred. The photographer exhibits me the 2 guys standing there.

Dorris: Your work very a lot appears to be acknowledging and celebrating intercourse and sexuality.

Michals: Yes, completely.

Dorris: But it’s not about . . .

Michals: It’s not about sexual acts.

Dorris: Did you ever suppose it is best to take images of the acts? Did you ever wish to make {that a} second in your profession?

Michals: No, in no way.

Dorris: Why not?

Michals: Because it’s been completed so many occasions.

Dreaming is magical. We die each evening. We don’t exist once we’re in dreamland.

Dorris: But you would have completed it first.

Michals: No, I wouldn’t have completed it first. I like the theater. I just like the drama. I did a guide referred to as Homage to Cavafy (1978). The first image is concerning the father who has died. This occurred to me. I used to be in Vienna. I got here residence. Fred took me to dinner Sunday evening and he stated, “Your father died.” I used to be too late. So, it’s a supposedly useless father in mattress, and the son, nude, is sitting subsequent to him in a chair, and the son has one hand in a fist and the opposite hand open—the fist, for me, is symbolic of the battle between them, and the hand open is wanting to the touch him and acknowledge him.

Dorris: Why is the son nude?

Michals: It’s a homosexual guide. Right? You ask me why I’m not photographing dicks, you then say to me, “Why is the son nude?” There’s one other certainly one of an empty room, as a result of I see empty rooms as a theater set. If you set an excessive amount of data, it distracts. So a man is in an empty room—a phenomenal man. He’s pulling his shirt off. The caption says, in impact, “He did not realize it, but at the very moment that he had pulled it off, he had reached his peak, and after that moment he would begin to decline.” We don’t even comprehend it, however there’s at all times that second when now we have fulfilled our bodily expectations. I did one other image, in that very same guide. It’s a room, once more. A window. A giant fats man; a bald man holding up an image of himself as a younger man. And there’s a cat on the ledge. And the caption says: “When he was a young man, it was impossible that he might grow old. Now that he’s old, he cannot remember ever having been young.” That was good. But inform me one different fucking homosexual photographer who ever talked about previous age.

Dorris: Tell me the place you match into the homosexual spectrum.

Michals: My mom acquired knocked up in 1931. She needed to marry my dad. She didn’t like him, however they had been Catholics. So my father was a no-show. He was there, however he wasn’t there. When I used to be in highschool there was Stuart Middleman, and Stuart Middleman was a sissy. He carried his books like this, and he frolicked with the ladies. You didn’t wish to be Stuart. But there was no “gay.” I didn’t even know what that was. That’s all I knew. And I knew there have been queers, however I wasn’t fairly positive what that was. I used to be at all times all for an older man who would present an curiosity in me. I might have killed to have an older man put his arm round my shoulder and say, “Gee, Duane, that’s good. Did you write that? That’s amazing. Keep doing it.” Nothing ugly. Fred was the primary. Fred was a 12 months older than I used to be, however I by no means discovered that older male affection. I used to be by no means all for going to bars. I used to be by no means all for pretending I’m a lady, dressing up in drag. Nothing like that. I believe it’s official, however not for me.

Dorris: I’m that you simply weren’t, due to your curiosity in theater and the Grand Guignol and all of that.

Michals: I used to be all for writing. I used to be within the drama. I wasn’t within the costumes. There’s an enormous distinction.

Dorris: I wish to discuss to you about the usage of sleeping in your images, in The Fallen Angel (1968) and The Bogeyman (1973). You had been saying you wish to present issues that may’t be seen.

Michals: Yes.

Dorris: And sleep, in a manner, is the place you may’t clarify what you see. You’re vanished.

Michals: We spend one third of our lives sleeping. A really early guide I did within the Eighties was referred to as Sleep and Dream (1984). Dreaming is magical. We die each evening. We don’t exist once we’re in dreamland. When you’re in dreamland, probably the most wonderful issues occur. When I visited Magritte, daily we might have lunch, and Bonanza could be taking part in on tv dubbed in French, and he would take a nap—and I photographed him asleep on the couch. He at all times wore a swimsuit.

Dorris: Did he know you had been photographing him whereas he was napping?

Michals: Oh, no. He simply gave me run of the home, which was wonderful. I assumed: I ponder what sort of desires may Magritte have? What sort of desires did Shakespeare have? Some individuals have extra fascinating desires than they’ve lives whereas awake.

Dorris: Have you had lucid desires?

Michals: Only as soon as . . . or twice . . . and I by no means acquired over it. I used to be strolling down the road and on the nook was Al Seymour. I knew Al was useless. In the dream, I assumed to myself, There’s Al Seymour, however he’s useless. I awoke and stated, Wait a minute, I’m in a dream. So then, within the dream state of affairs, I used to be alleged to cross the road, however I needed to go this manner. I needed to take over the dream. But I couldn’t do it.

Dorris: But that’s type of images, proper? Taking over the dream? Directing.

Michals: Not directing, however curiosity greater than images. But then I puzzled: What if I wander down that road, and, if I couldn’t discover my manner again to that very same nook, I might by no means get up?

Dorris: Do you suppose that might have been true?

Michals: I can’t say I can’t wait to die, however I’m interested by it. I’ve completed so many issues about dying. In the primary sequence guide I did in 1969, Death Comes to the Old Lady, the spirit leaves the physique. And I did one the place the man within the subway turns into a star. The second guide I did was referred to as The Journey of the Spirit After Death (1971), based mostly on The Tibetan Book of the Dead.

Dorris: Did you ever fear that you simply’re type of tempting . . . I do know you don’t consider in destiny. But type of tempting destiny by manifesting these moments?

Michals: No.

Dorris: It by no means bothered you?

Michals: No, I don’t consider in that in any respect. Because we make up life, and life is one second. If you consider in some type of predestination, then why hassle? I believe we’re masters of our personal destiny, and if we’re not courageous sufficient to grab the second, then that’s what you get.

Dorris: What was it about sleep that caught you so intensely that you simply made a guide?

Michals: Oh, as a result of I believe the dreamworld is a official world. Do the mathematics. If we stay for, say, sixty years, and one third of sixty could be twenty, then we sleep twenty years of our lives. And that’s not definitely worth the curiosity?

Dorris: Do you consider in what they name “dream logic,” that there’s a language . . .

Michals: Yeah, the theater of the dream?

Dorris: Yeah, that we don’t perceive.

Michals: I do. I believe it has its personal actuality. It has its personal guidelines. It’s an entire different planet.

Dorris: How do you get the individuals in your images to do what you need them to do?

Michals: I say, “Sit there.”

Dorris: And do they?

Michals: Yes.

Dorris: Because you’re charming?

Michals: No. First of all, the individuals in your images have no idea what you need. I’ve to inform them. I hate these individuals who simply stroll round, they usually snap. No. You take cost. Like, once more, Garry Winogrand was a snapshooter. He shot, like, 5 thousand rolls of movie he by no means even checked out. He appreciated to take photos, and all the photographs he took had been accidents.

Dorris: But what’s the distinction between an accident and probability?

Michals: It’s the identical factor. An accident is probability. Chance is an accident.

Dorris: Do you’ve 1000’s of rolls of movie?

Michals: No. For myself, I shoot very, little or no. Elaine May made her film Ishtar (1987), they usually took a break, and the cameraman stated to her, “While you’re taking lunch, do you want me to keep the cameras going?” She stated, “Yeah, something might happen.” Shakespeare didn’t await one thing to occur. Real artists take cost. They make it occur—with latitude. I make issues occur. When I’m going to McKeesport, I would count on one thing to occur I’m not relying on, and I’ll use it. But I include a body of reference.

Dorris: You should set it up first.

Michals: Yes. So I arrange the premise, after which, my problem to the younger photographer is: Now, inform me what occurred.

Dorris: What in the event that they don’t know?

Michals: Then fuck them. I don’t care what they do. Figure it out. That’s their job. Their downside is, they don’t know. They have no idea that figuring out is an possibility. Nobody teaches you that it’s an possibility.

Dorris: That’s actually true.

Michals: My good thing was, I by no means went to images faculty. I’d should unlearn all the things.

Dorris: I’m considering now of you starting to write down in your images, and I’m questioning how your handwriting regarded to you.

Michals: Oh, I don’t concentrate. It appears to be like as it’s. And don’t overlook: I used to be a graphic designer, so I’ve a way of the appropriateness of issues.

Dorris: Did your handwriting change as you probably did it over time?

Michals: Essentially, no. But now I attempt to write higher. It at all times will get described that my handwriting is “chicken scrawl.”

Dorris: So why didn’t you make your scripts stunning?

Michals: Because it’s not about magnificence. It’s about intelligence.

Dorris: Which brings us to your use of double exposures. How does that go improper?

Michals: Oh, since you could possibly be awful. I found double exposures once I went to Russia with my thirteen-dollar borrowed Argus—as a result of it double uncovered gratuitously. Then I started to have a look at these double exposures, and I stated, “That’s good. That’s interesting.” So I started to regulate it. Like that image I did referred to as The Illuminated Man (1968). That simply didn’t occur. I had that in my head. I used to be meditating. I knew that whenever you went as much as Park between thirty fourth and forty second, there’s a tunnel, and cabs go down it, and I might see these spotlights coming in. So I took my pal Ted Titolo—he’s in all my early photos, he’s additionally in Chance Meeting (1970)—I put him within the tunnel on a Sunday, when there was little or no site visitors, and I stationed him so the solar would hit his face. Then I uncovered for the tunnel, which implies his face could be manner overexposed and blur out on goal. The spirit leaves the physique. It’s completely managed.

Dorris: It’s a transcendence that’s completely managed?

Michals: Yes. It freed me to a different stage of expression. Everything I’ve completed has been to free me from the shackles of images.

Dorris: It frees you ways?

Michals: The backside line is expression. It’s not approach. Technique is on the service of expression. People get hung up on approach and don’t have anything to specific. I didn’t begin out desirous to be a photographer. I got here to New York as a result of I beloved books and magazines, and I needed to get a job as a designer. Henry Wolf was the good artwork director these days, and there was a gap at Harper’s Bazaar. So I made two magazines for my portfolio. I made one based mostly on Du, my favourite Swiss journal, the place they do an entire subject on a single topic. And I invented {a magazine} referred to as Contact. It was contact with life, contact with theater, contact with artwork, contact with poetry. I did an entire subject on Russia, utilizing my very own images. When I confirmed it to Henry, he stated, “Who took the pictures?” I stated, “I did.” He stated, “Oh, you should be a photographer.” He wouldn’t rent me. But when he went to Show a 12 months later to be the artwork director, he employed me for the primary subject. Then I went to see Lou Silverstein, the legendary artwork director of the New York Times. He wouldn’t rent me as a designer. But, ultimately, he gave me quite a lot of issues to shoot for the Times, together with the annual report.

Dorris: Did your associate Fred’s Alzheimer’s have an effect on the way in which you concentrate on language?

Michals: Not in any respect. I do take into consideration how I believe however by no means whereas I’m considering. I don’t take note of it. I’m fully on automated. I don’t take into consideration the act of writing. The finest time for me to have concepts is once I get up. Seven to 9 is when my thoughts is simply throwing issues at me.

Dorris: Is that due to sleep? Everything’s been saved up?

Michals: I don’t ask. And I don’t inform.

Dorris: Did you {photograph} Fred on the finish?

Michals: No. Are you kidding?

Dorris: People make work out of all types of issues.

Michals: Avedon made images of his father when he was dying and revealed them a 12 months later. But there are occasions you don’t take an image. I might by no means {photograph} Fred whereas he was dying. Oh my God. The final thing I might do. How may that a part of your mind kick in when the good love of your life is dying? We had fifty-seven years collectively and I’m going to begin: “Fred, would you hold that pose? Open your mouth more, please. No, keep the eyes shut. No gurgling noise. I’m trying to take a picture.” Nonsense.

Dorris: I believe for some individuals that’s how they course of their lives.

Michals: I can’t. [Sings] “Some people can thrive and bloom / living life in the living room.” Best Stephen Sondheim tune ever. “Some people can be content / playing bingo and paying rent. That’s peachy for some people.” All my mates in McKeesport had been residing—are nonetheless residing—lives in the lounge. I burned the lounge down.

Dorris: You had been by no means typical.

Michals: Fred and I had been by no means typical homosexual individuals of our technology. When we purchased a home, we lived within the nation. We didn’t go to Fire Island. We didn’t go to the Hamptons. We didn’t do any of that. We purchased a farmhouse with a lot of land. We’re huge gardeners. That’s one of many issues we had in widespread. What works is, the extra you’ve in widespread with any individual, the higher it’s for the connection. Opposites don’t entice. It’s concerning the extra you share. Fred was the good love of my life. And all relationships evolve. Nobody lives fortunately ever after. We prevented all of the pitfalls.

Dorris: How?

Michals: Well, very simply—as a result of we had different points in our lives. We weren’t dick targeted. Of course, we had been dick targeted. But once I wasn’t round, I didn’t have to fret that Fred was hanging out in a bar.

Dorris: Were you monogamous?

Michals: No. But ultimately, we developed. I believe as a result of we shared a lot . . .

Dorris: And you not photographing him? Do you suppose which may have helped?

Michals: It was by no means a problem. We saved our lives separate. I discovered early on that we didn’t work that manner. Have I out-talked you? I’ll present you photos. This is Fred and myself in happier days. That’s Fred, that’s me.

Dorris: Oh, you’re so good-looking.

Michals: This is the final time Fred was within the nation. There’s our backyard. Then that is Fred when he had Alzheimer’s. That’s Fred and me right here. This is Fred on the finish. Sit down. I wrote one thing very good about him. I wrote a poem. It stated: “Dear Friend, / If you should die before me, / I would build you a pyramid, / And each stone would be a memory / Of a moment we had shared. / And I would remember you. // And when you awaken / From your dream of death / Should you chance to find / This pyramid in your travels, / Remember me, / And how I once loved you long ago.” It at all times breaks my coronary heart.

Dorris: Duane, that’s so stunning. Did you publish that someplace?

Michals: It’s from once I despatched out Fred’s dying discover.

Dorris: It’s simply beautiful.

Michals: Here, you may have a duplicate.

This interview initially appeared in Aperture, subject 247, “Sleepwalking,” Summer 2022.