“In 1972 […] I took myself to MoMA NYC and inadvertently saw my first-ever photography exhibition — The Diane Arbus retrospective. The photographs moved me. They felt familiar.”, states Meryl Meisler. As someone who’s taken her share of pictures in queer spaces, these words resonate with me as I pore over Meryl’s work, adding a generous sprinkle of completely unwarranted nostalgia on top. Nostalgia for a sliver of time and space where people of all gender identities and sexual orientations were free, to an extent, of bigotry and hate. The time was those years between the Stonewall Riots and the AIDS pandemic. That space —admittedly, one of many— was Fire Island in New York. The pictures taken by Meryl Meisler, currently exhibited in The Werk Gallery in St. Petersburg, Florida, speak loudly of this particular intersection, and I’m thankful for the opportunity to talk to her about them.
All images by Meryl Meisler. Used with permission. For more check out her website. You can see her photos in person at The Werk Gallery in St. Petersburg, Florida until June 30th, 2024.
The Phoblographer: I know you were inspired not only by Diane Arbus but by your father as well. Could you dive into this a little more in-depth?
Meryl Meisler: The passion for photography is in my DNA. My dad, Jack Meisler, was a printer by trade. Dad did self-portraits and street photography while in the Coast Guard during WWII. His favorite subjects were his family and friends, documenting the important occasions in their lives. I have my dad’s negatives and photo albums. His father, Murray Meisler, was a machinist by trade. Whenever I saw Grandpa, he always had a camera and a handheld light meter pointing somewhere. Family lore tells that Murray built his own tintype camera and photographed street life in the Bronx. I learned that it didn’t matter whether the photo was seen; the act of photography was important unto itself.
My parents, Jack and Sunny, bought me a 620 film camera, Adventurer for my 7th birthday. My subjects were family, friends, camp and trips. Those subjects still fascinate me. I remember going with Grandpa and Grandma to the Bronx Zoo, bringing my Adventurer —aware of the beautiful light on the lion poised behind the cage— and taking the photo.
In 1972, in my Junior year of college, I was majoring in Art Education. I took myself on an artist’s date to MoMA NYC and inadvertently saw my first-ever photography exhibition, a Diane Arbus retrospective. The photographs moved me, they felt familiar.
In 1973, in graduate school at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, I heard they had a good photography program taught by professor Cavalliere Ketchum.
Inspired by Dad, Grandpa and Arbus, I enrolled in Photo 101 to learn how to use a real camera. The excitement and challenge of photography continue to enthralled me. Hey, I’m a printer’s daughter. I enjoy making and exhibiting beautiful gelatine silver prints, bringing my vision to life as I see it.
Bare Breasted Bartender, Ice Palace, Cherry Grove Fire Island, NY, September 1977
Chicken Delight Cherry Grove, Fire Island, NY, August 1977
The Phoblographer: Do you remember the camera you used on those first weekends at Survivor? How many rolls did you go through? What do you use these days for your art?
Meryl Meisler: During those years at Survivor in Cherry Grove, Fire Island, I brought my Norita Graflex, a medium format SLR with 120 Tri-X films, and a Vivitar 283 or 285 Flash. Fortunately, I had a place to sleep over so that I could bring extra rolls of film. Still, then and now, I was very selective and rarely shot more than one or two rolls a day. In later years, when I didn’t have a place to stay over and safely store my medium format camera and flash, I’d bring a Minolta SRT 101 loaded with Kodachrome. Sand, water, and wind make using a camera in a beach situation very risky. I learned a painful lesson: dropping and destroying a favorite lens in the damp sand. In recent years, I have returned to my analog roots and am now back to using my Norita Graflex and Vivitar 285. The Noritas are old and fragile- I have six camera bodies as backups. Except for the height of the Covid 19 Pandemic in 2020, I have revisited Fire Island every summer since 1977, even if just for day-tripping. I don’t always Sometimes, I want to walk along the beautiful shoreline and enjoy the serenity, carrying only my phone to document the day.
Three Wait on Dock, Cherry Grove, Fire Island, NY, July 1978
Wearing Chains and Dancing on The Ice Palace Wall, Cherry Grove, Fire Island, NY, August 1977
The Phoblographer: As you know, cameras these days are not only ubiquitous but practically instantaneous. You can take a picture right now and have it seen by millions of people by lunchtime. I think this has affected our craft in more ways than most people could imagine. This train of thought sparks several questions in my mind, such as… how did it feel to be The Photographer back then? How did people react to your camera? Were they shy? Eager to be seen? Happy to be in front of the lens?
Meryl Meisler: Funny, I have a playful curiosity then and now and feel I’m perceived similarly. I usually ask for permission verbally or by gesture to take someone’s picture. Since I am attracted to people expressing humor, confidence, or joy, the person often says “yes.” If they don’t grant their permission, I respect their request and sometimes let them know why I asked in the first place. The fact that I am carrying a “real film camera” nowadays actually gets compliments. One time, I asked Edie Windsor (lead plaintiff in 2013 Supreme Court case that overturned DOMA and led to same-sex marriage legal victory) if I could take her photograph. Edie said yes and explained it was because I had a “real camera “; she didn’t like everyone constantly pointing phones in her face. How often has a stranger asked to take your photograph? Unless you are a celebrity, it’s probably rarer than most assume.
Hustler on a Boat, Fire Island Pines, NY, July 1978
Four on Deck at Star Wars Party, Fire Island Pines, NY, August 1977
The Phoblographer: With the aforementioned immediacy, we know there’s a huge chance of gender non-conforming people receiving a ton of online abuse the moment one of their pictures goes viral. Do you think this is affecting how we present ourselves as queer people?
Meryl Meisler: The potential immediacy of photography and possible negative or positive commentary can be very difficult and unnerving. As a Jew and a queer person, I certainly know how it feels to be considered an “other,” “outsider,” or less than welcome “stranger.” Fortunately, to my knowledge, I have not been the subject of severe abuse or bullying. Abuse and bullying can be dangerous, devastating, and possibly deadly, especially to a person who is struggling with their identity. If you or someone you know are struggling, I highly suggest getting professional help. This life path is your own; give yourself time to find your way to walk with honesty, integrity, and pride while helping others.
JudiJupiter Standing Nude Near Police Car, Cherry Grove, Fire Island, NY, August 1977 1/5
JudiJupiter Reading Anaïs Nin’s DELTA of VENUS EROTICA, Fire Island Pines
The Phoblographer: Do you think people have become a little too used to the camera? That we’ve lost spontaneity in the way we pose and the way we act? I know that most people will strike a pose or attempt an angle once they see my camera at Pride — the sense of relaxation and chill I see on your pictures is no longer there.
Meryl Meisler: Cameras have been quite prevalent in my life and most of our lives. Sure, we tend to “strike a pose” to look or feel more attractive for a photo. Let’s pose this another way. How have literacy and access to communication tools changed the ability to write a great story? What makes one drawing with simple pencil and paper a masterpiece? We, fortunate to know an abundance of food, recognize that some dishes stand out from the rest. A great cook takes common ingredients and makes them unique. The photographer’s sensibility and discerning eye help bring forth the magic moment. If relaxation and chill are among what you want to express in the photographs you are making, keep that goal in your mind and heart- it will come to you in time, tenacity, and patience.
The Phoblographer: For the last —bonus— question, what are your thoughts on all the AI imagery out there right now? How do you feel that it’s affecting the whole misunderstanding of art vs content in photography?
Meryl Meisler: The art of meaningful photography and content is infinitely mysterious and has many paths for creation. I was among the first artists selected and trained by Adobe and Macintosh to use digital imaging as a creative expression and one of the earliest artists to exhibit such work. Now, I aspire to create a simply magnificent photograph. While I am not pursuing AI personally, I am not putting it out of the question or criticizing someone who might choose to explore AI. I am pursuing analog photography, developing film, and making stunning limited-edition gelatin silver prints in my darkroom.
Money for Tickets Exchange Booth, Cherry Grove, Fire Island, NY, July 1978
Looking Upward at Sunset, Cherry Grove, Fire Island, NY, September 1977
As a queer woman myself, I think these pictures are especially important, even more so in the place where they’re being exhibited. If you’re around, make sure to pay the Werk Gallery a visit before the exhibition is over! You can read more about this exhibition in their flier, available here.
