Marcel Duchamp at home, New York, 1962 -by Duane Michals
As I age, while I still have time, I yearn to know now, more than ever, my true self, that random and illusive thing, decorated with personality. We believe ourselves to be this kaleidoscope of passions and distractions. We are a brilliant and unknown moment, suspended between memory and anticipation, anxious in our uncertainties, and doomed to fade with our consciousness. How can such a mystery be photographed? What is left for us but amazement?
— Duane Michals, in ‘I Am Much Nicer Than My Face: and other thoughts about portraiture’ - from Los Angeles Times (1989)