TV REVIEW : A Snapshot of Andre Kertesz’s Vision of Beauty in the Ordinary

As an infectiously youthful 91-year-old, photographer Andre Kertesz ambled through a documentary film of his life in Budapest, Paris and New York. He died in his sleep shortly afterward, too soon to have recorded the intended English voice-over for “Andre Kertesz of the Cities” (airing on PBS’ “American Masters” series tonight at 9 on Channel 28) but long after he was recognized as an affectionate poet of everyday sights and experiences.

“The things I photograph are not outstanding, but I make them stand out,” says Kertesz, reflecting on a body of work that includes warm portraits, delicately patterned views of Washington Square and witty shots of urban activity.

The documentary take its cues from that statement. Watching an elderly artist return to old haunts is hardly an original approach, but the revisited Budapest swimming pool and Paris apartment are real chunks of life to a photographer who says, “The most valuable things are a man’s memories.”

Kertesz is, after all, the devastated husband who clutched the memory of his deceased wife by repeatedly photographing an abstract glass sculpture that he thought resembled her.

The film transports Kertesz from his New York apartment to Budapest, where he took his first photographs, and on to Paris, where he established himself as an artist in the late ‘20s. Paris adopted Kertesz almost immediately. New York was far more recalcitrant.

Kertesz came to America in 1937 on a visit, but World War II forced him to stay. He hated earning his living by doing commercial assignments and resented his late-blooming audience.

But in the mid-’60s, in his 70s, Kertesz finally began to get his due in exhibitions, publications and sales of photographs.

Not the least of the belated honors is this impressionistic journey. Less a biography than a working portrait, the film is laced with Kertesz’s photographs, vintage images and new ones shot on the spot. In one sequence, he works with a nude model and mirrors, creating new “Distortions” like those that caught the imagination of the avant-garde in the early ‘30s.

Kertesz was never a member of the avant-garde, however. And despite a stint in the Austro-Hungarian army, he divorced himself from social and political unrest.

He was too enamored with the beauty of the ordinary and the unexpected charm of surreal appearances to get caught up in turbulence.