Camera Work: A Photographic Quarterly (1914 (Heft 47))

A NOTHER year of experimenting done. Nine years
°f public experimenting. Experimenting in the
little garret—variously termed Photo-Secession,
Little Gallery, “291” — at 291 Fifth Avenue, New York.
Several thousand visitors. Not, by far, as many as in
former years. Curiosity seekers have fallen away.
A May night. Nearly June. I sat in my room thinking,
weighing, what had been done during the year. Had any-
thing been done? Anything added? Comparing the year
to past years, subconsciously visualizing the year in con-
nection with the coming year. What work was to be done
during the coming year? As I was thinking of these things
—without crystalizing any thought—it flashed through my
mind that, during the past year, a certain question had been
put to me, more and more frequently. The question:
“What does ‘291’ mean?” I remembered the half-con-
scious, invariable answer. I remembered shrugging my
shoulders amusedly, smiling as I replied: “291, what does
it mean?” Letters too had come from Europe, quite a few,
asking me that same question, “What is it, this ‘291’ that
people are talking about?” Most of these inquiries re-
mained unanswered, filed away. Some were answered in
the same spirit as the questioners in the little garret had
been answered. There was no particular reason why some
inquiries were filed away, why some were answered. And
as all this passed through my mind it suddenly struck me to
ask myself, “What is ‘291 ’ ?” Do I know? No one thus far
had told the world. No one thus far had suggested its real
meaning in CAMERA WORK, and so again it flashed upon
me to ask myself,“What is ‘291’?” I would like to know.
How find out? Why not let the people tell me what it is to
them. And in telling me, perhaps they will tell each other.
Some say ’tis I. I know it is not I. What is it?