Listening to the frenetic bassline of a Charles Mingus song, I hear the echo of the American dynamo. It wanders like Whitman or Kerouac. It pursues like Captain Ahab. It labors like John Galt and it regards pretense as did Mark Twain. I have always felt comforted by its persistence and proud of its product.
These images are filled with that same spirit. Looking at them, I am reminded of why American art continues to be one of my life's greatest passions.
- Jeremy Tessmer