In my senior year at Croton-Harmon High School, I was voted Homecoming King. I was a reluctant king. I think the voting was more akin to naming Carrie the Prom Queen in Stephen King’s supernatural thriller by the same name.
I wore a paper crown, bathrobe, and sunglasses along with a plastic lei that I thought completed my regal stature.
I rode in the back of a convertible, butt perched on the top of the seat. Next to me was not the Homecoming Queen (she was at a field hockey game), but my cheerleading crush (pictured, but I won’t say who).
We anchored the parade through our little town, waving to the few who lined the streets. Thankfully, it was documented for the paper. It’s not something people would believe unless I had the paper’s account of the truth.
Years later, another king came into my life. His name was Jeffrey Fraenkel.
I worked with Fraenkel Gallery for five years. Working was more like learning as I knew little about photography (even though I was a photographer), let alone what a gallery does and what I would do in it.
The beloved Jeffrey was affectionately called “The King” by his adoring staff. I am not being mean or facetious here. He genuinely was (and is) loved. There was even an elaborate paper crown (far outshining mine) that was around, coming out for special occasions (knighting ceremonies, usually).
He was “The King,” and that was ok.
During my short time there, I learned to see. I learned how photographs fit together, within themselves and with others. I talked to artists, learned from them, and started to understand what “personal vision” was all about. It’s a phrase that you often see as a title for a photography course or at least in its description.
What does it really mean?
For me, it’s making the art that only that artist could make. It’s like a fingerprint, unique to the maker. It’s much more than style or material. It defines you as an artist but does not limit you.
The first week of January means that I have started preparing for classes. This spring, I have two matriculated, two that are long-form development courses, and three that are short-term workshops. I remind myself that I often learn as much as anyone else does in class. I don’t know everything and I don’t pretend that I do.
As artists, we move together as part of a community, or we don’t move ahead at all. Friction, feedback, and fundamentals are all a part of the equation for growth. I may lead or guide the instruction, setting up parameters and steering the ship if we go off course, but I am not the captain…or the king.
I don’t wear a crown anymore. In fact, I am mindful not even to reach for it.
Classes & Notes
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Michael Foley opened his gallery in the fall of 2004 after fourteen years of working with notable photography galleries, including Fraenkel Gallery, Howard Greenberg Gallery, and Yancey Richardson Gallery.
In 2002, Foley continued his interest in educating and working with artists by serving on the School of Visual Arts and International Center of Photography faculty. He currently teaches and lectures on contemporary photography issues at the undergraduate and graduate levels.
In 2020, he founded The Photo Community, which offers classes and commentary on contemporary photography.
Foley lives and works on the Lower East Side of Manhattan with his wife, Maya.
No we just watch the Crown these days...Michael lives with his wife Maya, and soon to be Goldie and Malcolm. Who gets the middle, will be the debate in the house