Monday, Feb. 27, 1989

From the Publisher

By Robert L. Miller

Among the millions of photographs taken every day, a select few will rank as great photojournalism. An even tinier category will merit appreciation as fine art. Those are the images that intrigue associate editor Richard Lacayo, who serves as TIME's photography critic besides writing in the magazine's Nation section. Years before Lacayo decided to pursue an English major at Cornell, he became fascinated with photography when he picked up a secondhand volume of Henri Cartier-Bresson's work at a neighborhood bookshop on New York's Long Island. "I was about 14 years old," says Lacayo, "and I didn't know a thing about photography. But Cartier-Bresson's images of street life needed no explanation. They drew me in."

Ever since, Lacayo has appraised photographic styles ranging from the dark documentary stills of Robert Frank to the robust portraiture of Lisette Model. This week he reviews "The Art of Photography: 1839-1989," a sweeping survey of the form's history at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts. Says he: "This show will impress upon people the sheer variety of the art. There's nothing mechanical about it."

After earning a degree from Columbia's Graduate School of Journalism in 1977, Lacayo began a seven-year free-lance career during which he wrote about theater, film and TV for the New York Times and other publications. Since joining TIME in 1984, he has contributed to nearly every section of the magazine. During a three-year stint as the Law section writer, he found time to profile author Susan Sontag and survey Hispanic culture for TIME's special issue on that topic.

Lacayo has moonlighted as the photography critic since 1986, when he helped persuade TIME's editors that the magazine should devote more coverage to the art. His wide choice of subject matter has included the off-center visions of Garry Winogrand and the embracing eye of LIFE's Alfred Eisenstaedt. Yet Lacayo prefers to make his own impressions with words rather than film. "I don't take photographs," he notes. "I take snapshots." After all, when he wants to look at enduring images, all he needs to do is reach for that beat-up old Cartier-Bresson volume that he still keeps close at hand.