The quotes by Garry Winogrand about the photograph and the surface of things could have been said by Andy Warhol. Winogrand actually became detached from his artistic output in ways that Warhol only pretended to be.
The straight photography crowd’s fantasy of Winogrand is that well-used romantic notion, the man with the Leica, the lone photographer who wandered through the streets with a small camera and a pocketful of 35mm film, finding moments of poetry and improvised art.
Winogrand may have lived this life; he was an empiricist that wanted to see what things looked like photographed. But he divorced himself from editing his work, so he never saw what many of those things looked like photographed. He did not believe in the power of the print or its meaning. He did not want the photographs to prove anything or say anything, except what light looked like on the surface of film at one particular time and place. Because of this detachment, an exhibit like “Garry Winogrand” could not be possible without a Curatorial Industrial Complex made up of many other people to process, archive, edit, print and display his work.