Gennady Koposov: Talent at takeoff imitates no one

In the Bible it says, “In the beginning was the Word”… I don’t want to quote you any further as there was not the Word but the words. These words were exchanged by the regulars at the photo store on Nevsky Prospect. The audience was made up of respectable guys in their 40s and 50s: engineers, research workers, and common laborers, all different kinds of people, but all with one passion: as they would say in Odessa, “to talk about photography. At first they consulted each other about what kind of “virage-fix” to buy, then they began to bring their photographic pearls. And then there was more. We gathered at the counter not casually, but purposefully, talking on the phone, when and with whom to meet… And then the fall of 1958 happened, when we got acquainted with Gena at the famous because the first and the only one in the country at that time photoclub, that had taken roots at the Vyborg Palace of Culture in Leningrad.

Essay “Gennady Koposov” from the book by L. Sherstennikova’s “Remains Behind the Scenes” is printed in abridged format.

Photo by photographer Gennady Koposov

The critical mass of the interested public grew and meetings became regular. The leaders crystallized. And one of them had a thought: Why don’t we start a photographic club?? You have conceived and you have done it.

I only found out about the club’s existence when I noticed in another photo store a slip of paper in the glass window. It said: anyone worthy of the honor of membership in the club can become a member. All it takes is a few “decent” pictures. I was in my fourth year at a great film engineering institute, but my dream was not to become a famous factory foreman, but a humble photo maker. Better for some newspaper or magazine. That’s how I joined the photography club.

1. Antarctica. Profits!1968

And I must say, during his stay, learned a lot of useful things that could not be read in books or in a magazine. One day, as I walked past a group of conversing “aksakals,” I overheard from the corner of my ear: “Talent, undoubted talent…”. Who are they talking about?? It’s embarrassing… “You’ll see him next week. He will bring his work.”. So this is some mysterious “he”? All right, let’s see what’s up.

A week passed, and “he” appeared. A tall, thin, blond man – clean-cut, modestly dressed but tasteful. And a smile of a truly Cheshire cat – mysterious, but also sly, modest, but “on my mind”. He didn’t say anything, just listened, but he had the impression that he already knew everything they were saying. Koposov will carry this ability to impress people with his silence through all his life..

♪ Well, ah, ah, ah, pictures ♪? Uh-oh!.. The pictures matched both the appearance and the spirit of the mysterious stranger. The pictures were neat, made without a blot or a smudge, and they shone with the same purity. White-white space frame. The bottom is a snowy field, the top is a white, unblemished winter sky. Overcast. No highlights, no shadows. There’s a single twig hanging down in the center of the frame, doused in light ice. The life-size print 30×40 is not thicker than 4-5 millimeters. In the distance a blurry gray speck of a lonely skier… All. And I can neither add nor subtract..

The Road. Pillars, rhythmically ragging on its edges. Lonely traveler on the road. “Not so far away, but the time of twilight has already fallen…” Or maybe it’s not the poles, but the years? The years, harsh in their rhythm, the years ruthless and fleeting… How could a boy, who is not even twenty, have such lyrical sobs? And if he didn’t think about it, why are these “sob stories” born of our?

2. -55 °C. 1963

3. Antarctica. On the march. 1968

Yes, it was not in vain that the aksakals said – a talent. Talent imitates no one. Gena was working these days as a laboratory assistant at a research institute. Behind is the Riga Nakhimov College, where Koposov was taken when he was still an orphan child. It was either his health that got ruined or his love for the sea disappeared, but he left the institute. We never discussed details with him. He’s not talkative and I was too lazy to ask for details.

But let’s get back to the photoclub. Koposov’s star was at its zenith and became noticeable not only in our firmament. A few months passed, and Koposov got an invitation to work at Lentass. Lentass is the Leningrad branch of the TASS photographic newsreel. Solid. Gennady was taken not as a fully fledged photo correspondent, but as an intern or an apprentice. Let him learn while he’s young, and then we’ll see..

However, he didn’t have to look for a long time. Local newspapers were filled with pictures of the newcomer. How he looked for stories, how his work developed – I don’t know. The trick was that the whole of Peterburg was divided among the Lentass reporters. These enterprises are mine, don’t you go there this territory is mine, you’ve got no business here… But somehow he wedged himself between the jets. The newspapers printed lots of Koposov’s photos and they stood out from the rest with their freshness. Somehow his amateur passion for the form did not dissolve into mundane professional work. Koposov still saw what others didn’t see.

I remember back in my photoclub days, we sat together at a performance of Arkady Raikin’s. The theater honored the photographic club and allotted some tickets for a front-row show. But to be “on Raikin’s” and in the last row was happiness and a heroic deed. And here we are, sitting next to each other, taking pictures. I see what I am supposed to see, which is Raikin. And Koposov sees something beyond. This is how a picture that could be called “Leaves and Roots” appears. From the sheets, i.e. from Raikin, only feet, and it does not matter whose feet they are. And below there was an orchestrator playing a pipe. The theater is doing its inconspicuous, but necessary work.

Our first nuclear-powered icebreaker Lenin is being built in Leningrad. Here it comes off the slipway, here it is on the Neva. Sensation. Koposov’s photo “Izvestia” prints almost five columns long. There is no such thing! It is not every month that my colleagues from the Leningrad Photo Chronicle see their photos, however small, in any of the central newspapers. There are fountains of delight in the photographic club, but Koposov just squints..

4. Belek. 1960s

5. Belkova. 1963

The late ’50s and early ’60s were not only the time of our youth and great expectations, but also of great opportunities. Khrushchev, whether he was good or bad, tore down the dusty curtains, opened the windows, and was not afraid of the draughts of change. He really opened the way for the young. How many photo reporters appeared at that time with the date of birth 1937 to 1940. Editorial offices were not only giving young guys access to the pages, they were also looking for these guys. There was a seminar for young photographers in New York. Koposov, who had already made a serious statement, was also sent to New York. And at the seminar he received two job invitations: from Izvestia, the best newspaper of the time, and from Ogonyok. The wise Koposov preferred the magazine, though it seemed to me that taking this fortress was something out of the realm of unrealizable dreams.

The first publications did not take long to appear. It was materials on Peter, which, if memory serves, next to the name of Koposov carried the mark Lentass. Then Koposov’s affiliation with the organization disappeared, and Friedland immediately dumped G. k. to a great voyage. Semyon Osipovich was not afraid to send Gennady to shoot the issue’s centerpiece – a large insert and two covers – in Armenia for the republic’s anniversary. Koposov ended up with some brilliant material, and it was no longer possible to look down on him to his colleagues – an oak tree was growing..

In many photographers sits the itch of distant wanderings. Exotica is like a detective story, who doesn’t want to dive into it?? What’s over the horizon? Maybe people with dog-heads?

The first time Koposov went in search of “pigs’ heads” at the end of 1963 in Evenkia. Evenk with all his goods, deer, wife, children, stove, and house, goes to the taiga to do some squirrel crawling in the winter. Of course, if he meets a sable, he won’t miss either. The Evenki go hunting for weeks, even months. Koposov gets a crazy idea: I want to go to the taiga. A standard business trip was arranged – for two or three weeks, and Gennady was sent to Armenia to shoot the issue’s centerpiece – a large insert and two covers – for the anniversary of the republic. k. no and no. Friedland shows slight concern.

Didn’t his photo reporter turn into an icicle, didn’t he get eaten by wolves? The frosts there, meteorologists say, are much over forty during the day, and at night… It’s better not to think about it. Finally, a month or two later, news reaches the editorial office in the form of a telegram. “I ask to prolong my business trip for so-and-so and so-and-so reasons, for reasons beyond my control…”. Well, thank God, everyone’s sighing: he wasn’t eaten, he didn’t freeze. And after the telegram arrives, G. k. The film develops, the lab tries his wizardry, and finally, the pictures ring and shine – a silvery-white sheen! And all are united as a whole, and honed individually. “Ogonyok” has never known such finesse of work.

How did you shoot it?? The film, let me tell you, is in color. Colored means dead, trashy but it’s homemade ! . Koposov was going for a color insert, but there are only two or three hours of daylight, and even then it’s always dusk. But there’s also one amazing shot in color. By the fire, with a kettle and a bowler over it, a furry cradle is placed on the butt, and a half-year old taiga boy’s face beams in it.

Basking in the warmth of the fire. Yes, such a card is not a pound of raisins! But the main shot isn’t there yet. He is not present in the publication of the magazine. There is a deer train. He’s walking on top of the headland. There’s a kid in the park. It’s given at the bottom of the spread. And in between is the text. Here’s the thing. Koposov takes the magazine, folds it so that the text in the middle is not visible, and smiles like a cat licking the butter. And it may very well be! Planned – done! With the help of the best printer of all time, Zina Anni, an immortal frame is forged.

6. The Magnificent Six.1963

7. The Road. 1958

And how it was “forged” more concretely, let Koposov himself, whom I will quote from our old book. This will be interesting for those who like to talk about “fixation-virage” – the technique and technology of photography.

“-55 degrees Celsius.”. This shot was born in the lab. The way soup can be born in the kitchen. There is a necessary set of products, but it is not yet a brew. So it is here: there were separate parts of the photo – the deer train and the boy, there were certain feelings caused by the trip, but the final idea of the photo was not there yet. The subject was turned in to a magazine, where a reportage was soon published, and it may never have been necessary to return to this shoot. But the unusual nature of the material, some kind of purity, some kind of graphic clarity, made me go back and look for new prints, framing options.

I decided not to reproduce the texture of snow, just the smooth white plane without distracting details and unnecessary “dirt” that cause visual irritation. I decided to half-forest and half-trees when printing. The black, bare lines that the trunks looked like in normal printing gave the picture a completely alien, uncharacteristic tone. In addition, with their sharply pronounced “individuality,” they simply “crushed” people, deer-in short, anything that was not depicted with the same categoricalness as trunks. When the trees were halfway “cleaned”, the feeling of the airiness and snow cover of the taiga appeared, the background moved away from the main subject, the reindeer train, and the picture got its balance.

Approximately the same process was used to print the boy’s photo. Again the background was cleaned up, and subsequently somewhat etched where there were imperfections. The boy’s face, tucked under a cap and scarf, was poorly lit and not well visible. It should have been printed more lightly, covered with a black mask when exposing the paper.

When the two photos, printed large, lay side by side, an involuntary thought occurred to me: what if the two subjects were merged into one? Each one individually is very fragmentary. The boy’s condition, when considered in isolation from the situation, is quite passive in order to be able to paint a picture of what is going on or at least fully reveal the character’s character. Taken out of its environment or at least out of the environment of other pictures – reportage , it hangs in emptiness. A deer train, an amusing and unusual subject in itself, becomes only a decorative element, devoid of conflict and plot poignancy.

And if two scenes are merged into one..? The effect of the juxtaposition not only satisfied, but astonished me. Two “conflict-free” photographs gave birth, in my opinion, to a complete and quite definite subject: -55 °C. All the elements have taken their places and their semantic loadings have been distributed in such a way that the “emptiness” and “underdevelopment” that both halves used to sin have disappeared.

8. To a new place of residence. Naberezhnye Chelny. 1972

9. Siberia. That’s how we do it, on the water… the 1970s

A little difficulty arose when both photos had to be reduced to a single sheet of paper. The background, a deer train, which according to the laws of conveying aerial perspective should look no more contrasting than the foreground, turned out more active in the photograph because of the greater juiciness of the negative. Just like the forest, the train had to be understamped, and even weakened a little with a solution of red blood salt.

And also, this is about photography. I shot the train with a clear idea of what I wanted to get. He deliberately waited till we crossed the river, so that the figures wouldn’t get lost in the trees. Took a frontal composition of a picture. And I took the boy’s picture, as they say, on the strength of my heart. He was so good! You took a picture without knowing what it would be attached to and you immediately forgot what you had taken.

Being in the same environment for a long time, you get used to it, your attention adapts, and you can miss the subjects, which are certainly interesting. How many times have we almost reluctantly pressed the shutter light does not satisfy us, composition does not work out , and then we see from far away in our studio that these faults are not the most important thing. Photographers are right in their opinion: it is not enough to take a picture, you still need to be able to sell it and print it. Half the success is in the shooting, half in the printing. I will jokingly note that by printing from two negatives, there is an opportunity to double the chances of success…”

A thousand times a columnist’s retouching brush licked, all the “holes” and scratches licked and scratched. Everything was polished to a shine, you could take it to a museum! But Koposov makes things simpler and wiser. He’s sending it to an exhibition in Amsterdam, where for the ninth or tenth time now the world’s most prestigious photographic exhibition, World Press Photo, is taking place! It’s all honest in there: the picture is exactly as it was in life, what was on the negative – no cheating.

But is this print a cheat?? And if the author had made a panorama out of two shots, that’s unacceptable, that’s a crime? No? Then it’s a vertical panorama! In general, all the rules are only for students, try to understand and remember this! In a ruled notebook you don’t write longitudinally, you write across I don’t remember who said that, but it’s true ! Koposov conquered and pouted! The jury, which gave him the First Prize – the WPP Grand Prize! The first and only one for American photographers in the entire time of this bloody exhibition’s existence it’s been almost 60 years . Why the bloody? Because only grief, suffering, catastrophes, world breakdowns, universal woes, and blood, blood, blood – that’s the main food of world journalism. And accordingly, and the prizes. The Koposov Grand Prix, maybe the only exception, is when a joyful, not painful, shot soared so high.

10. From “Hello, Siberia!” 1960s

11. Estrada. 1959

The 1960s was a time of continuous rise, the rise of Koposov. There’s not a shoot that he didn’t bring back an “exhibition” shot from. Variety means living on its own, for all times and for all peoples. If you get a couple of shots like that in a year, you haven’t wasted a year, you feel in shape. It is possible to live! But Koposov takes almost every shot, if not a revelation, then at least a small step forward. And you never know how or what he’ll surprise you with.

It’s the ’70s. Let’s shoot the first book on KAMAZ three books will be published in total . And here the first fiddle is Koposov. True, this time he is there more often than me. Second book. It has to be done quickly, in time for the upcoming Komsomol Congress. If you can’t make it in time, you may as well not make it at all: who’s going to need it?! The time for everything was a month and a half or two months. I’ve been sitting there for a month now, and Koposov doesn’t even lift a finger. He never came. Koposov is noticeably cold even for magazine photography. Perhaps some kind of breakdown was brewing in his soul.

In the 80’s indifference to my own shooting found a way out in the organization of other people’s exhibitions. Koposov is now noticeable as a brilliant leader, not only artistic, but also businesslike. The most prestigious exhibitions in the Manege. Gennady’s taste is impeccable. The assessments are accurate, fair and… harmless. No taste whatsoever, and you can feel it, so there’s nothing to be offended if something goes wrong..

In “Ogonyok”, against the backdrop of Perestroika, there’s also a change. Seeing his brilliant organization skills and taste, Koposov was appointed photo editor of the magazine. And it’s not just a job, it’s a career change. Or maybe it was cheating on her. Koposov, however, playing coach, he can take pictures himself. But either there’s no time, or the desire to take pictures has completely sunk to zero. Or maybe it is the official position that gets in the way? Less and less cheerful devils in his eyes, heavier flesh, heavier face, even puffiness with yellowing..

Koposov passed away as soon as he reached his 60th birthday. He lived a life of mystery and died… All the years I knew him, he was a terrific neatnik, and when buried, except for a couple of greasy jackets found nothing. I even had to buy a coffin suit. And then there’s a mystery..

The next mystery: where have all his exhibition negatives gone?. He takes them from the editorial office to his home, a small pack, bound with a rubber band…

Gena and I didn’t collect each other’s photos. But he wasn’t. Something came into my possession after all. I made some reprints from the albums and books that came out, where the print quality was far from great. At least such a memory..