As we found a table, which was tricky since it was a small place and very crowded, Mr. Stromlin told me that the instant John showed him my work, he remembered my name from the New School show. He told me he considered it part of his job to assist promising photographers who “had the stuff.” Then he waved, and a tall, elegant man appeared at our table; Mr. Stromlin introduced him as the café owner, Gabriel Wythe. Mr. Wythe looked at my photos, then turned to Mr. Stromlin and said, “Not uplifting enough for Kleinmann, I dare say, but I think they’re clear-headed in the best way.” Then Mr. Stromlin said, “Maybe for your next group show?” and Mr. Wythe shrugged. “If I have space. It’s hard being the only game in town, as you know, but women are scarce, not to mention ones who shoot like this. May I keep these?” he asked, spreading my photos like a paper fan. My instinct was to grab them back, but Mr. Stromlin gave me a nod, so I said he could, which felt like a gentle mugging. Mr. Wythe asked where he could get in touch, and I told him the bookstore. “I should have known you were a friend of John’s,” he said, and hurried off, because the whole time he’d been with us, people had been waving him over, though whether they were customers, café staff, or other photographers, I’ll never know.

What I do know is that for those five minutes, in that busy place, my shyness disappeared. This would have been more than enough for me, but then Mr. Stromlin went on to explain that he curated photography shows with a public librarian at a small gallery space inside the Hudson Park branch. It wasn’t commercial, like Aperçu, he said, but it was good exposure, and there happened to be an opening in the April schedule.Of course April is when you are due to arrive, but it seems this is the way life happens sometimes, with everything coming all at once!

34. Self-portrait (thirty weeks), New York, 1955