Lee Friedlander’s Parties

Arousing our inner voyeur

Lee Friedlander. England, 1969.

BY: Jes Zurell

There’s something beautifully diffused about the way you remember a wild night. Following the sharp details of the evening’s debut, those blurry edges are the stuff of modern day magic. The tradeoff is that most of the time, you’ll only remember half of the spell.

Let’s take what happens inside the blurred, sensual softness of a buzz – it’s an inviting little cavern that leaves the past to the imagination – a luxury we rarely have. People, their passions, and their faux pas can be molded into anything – a glittering man-made memory, glazed in a night’s sleep and fired in pure positives. All this? This is a party, and the people – as Lee Friedlander so aptly dubbed them – are Human Clay.

Friedlander’s Human Clay photography book series arouses your inner voyeur. His latest volume, Parties, captures the wild laughter and blind intimacy that happens wherever sequins and vodka collide. The raw images convey each event’s spirit with all the clarity that’s lost by the following morning. Some faces belong to unmistakable celebrities and style icons, such as Ingrid Bergman and Sidney Poitier. New York City’s most legendary haunts paint the perfect backdrop for black tie galas and sordid affairs. Collectively, Friedlander’s photos give you the feeling that you were there, and that his shutterbug sorcery commandeered your’ most engaging blackouts in one printed place.

Whatever your poison, Friedlander’s images compel you to take in as much as you can handle, then chase it with even more imagery. The experience of leafing through this volume is akin to absorbing the perfect cocktail – it only takes a few sips until you’re swimming. The hangover may warrant some hair of the dog in the morning, but we’re not here to judge – we’re inviting you to the party.