

Mo: What are some of the things you wish to see more in established photographers?

Kathy: Oh, god, I don't know! I want to see them work for us. [both laughing]

Mo: Who are some of the photographers that fall under that?

Kathy: The problem with me saying that is it's tipping off my competition! [laughing] But I can tell you some. I've always wanted to work with Vera Lutter. She's on our wishlist. I mean, the work she does is so impressionistic it translates reality, so it has to be the right match for that to happen. I will regret saying this if six months from now she does a big portfolio in The New Yorker. [both laughing] I would very much like to work with Deana Lawson, too. We've asked her but haven't succeeded yet in connecting on an assignment.

Mo: For you, is there a burning question about photography that hasn't been answered yet?

Kathy: [Chuckles] Hmm.

Mo: I'll let the readers know that this was a 50-minute pause.

Kathy: A 50-minute pause! [both laughing]

Kathy: I guess one of the questions I have is, How does originality manifest itself? I'm probably partly saying this because I just watched that Basquiat documentary, but how does originality surface? How did his ideas come into being? Why is it that there are certain people, whether painters or photographers, that have a leap of originality in their work. Why does it spark?

Mo: I would naively assume that two elements that come from originality are curiosity and self awareness. I think if an artist is curious enough to inspect something and aware enough to act on it while adding their upbringing as a foundation, then I'm sure that has a significant factor in originality.

Kathy: Curiosity and self awareness; that's interesting.

Mo: I used to have a rule on reading at least three interviews a day and they were rarely of photographers. Usually the subjects were comedians, actors and actresses, musicians, and others. So a common thread I observed was how curious these people were. In one’s youth curiosity usually has two paths. You're either curious or you're not. It's either encouraged or not, you know? From birth our accessibility to the world grows as we grow so if we continuously act upon that then maybe—maybe—that's a core ingredient of originality.

Kathy: I love what you're saying but I have a little bit of a different feeling on this. [both laughing] I think it's desperation and obsession. On one hand as a photo editor, I'm desperate to publish good photography. So when we're going to assign something like The New York issue then I feel a great sense of desperation. I get so anxious because it has to be memorable, like last year’s kissing covers by Ryan McGinley.

Kathy: So it's a desperation to not waste that Sunday's issue. And that's not every week! Sometimes we're doing an issue and the possibilities aren't great, but when it's The New York issue or Voyages photo issue—or a similar issue—it's an opportunity that cannot be missed. And it would be horrifying to me if it isn't a good issue because we have to wait another year for the next one and lots of people get these issues.

Kathy: So, for obsession, it's clear that the best photographers are obsessed. Once somebody gets obsessed with something, like the way red could intersect with black, such as Christopher Anderson channeling that in his work; or high contrast shadows and black and white—you have Jack Davison; or the myriad of colors that can fall across the face—you have Mamadi Doumbouya; or human stories demanding to be told—Brenda Ann Kenneally. Those four photographers all became obsessed. You can see it in their work.

Kathy: Brenda has spent thousands of hours in Troy, New York photographing the people who live there. That's obsession. Or when I come in here on a Saturday morning because it's sunny at 9 a.m. to make Office Romance photos after a long week, I know that that's some level of obsession. I can't seem to get control over it but at least I get some photos out of it.