选自The New Yorker 译者：叶子南
We see New York, and sometimes, as Henry James asked us to, we “do it”—explore and conquer it—but what we see when we see it is so far unlike what we experience when we’re doing it that the difference itself can become a subject for art. The city sneaks up on us in pictures, and we are startled to see what it looks like even when what it looks like is just us, doing what we really do. We respond to truthful depictions of New York with the same surprise that we feel when we hear a recording of our own voice.
This surprise is one of the subjects of the extraordinary, lost—or, actually, never found in the first place—American photographer Jerry Shore. Shore did New York, was done by it, and then became a kind of artist-martyr to the act of seeing it. In the last decade of his life, Shore, after twenty years as one of the leading short-form commercial directors of his time, fell down a well of alcohol and isolation. He died in 1994, at the age of fifty-nine, and left behind four thousand photographic prints, most of New York City streets, in Queens and Manhattan, in Turtle Bay and Chelsea and the old meatpacking district. Only one of them had ever been sold. The collector Daniel Wolf bought all of Shore’s work, in 1995, and has archived it, so that, for the first time, it is possible to see the range and intensity of what he accomplished, and discover an original New York eye.
（artist-martyr 名词译成动词为了艺术英勇献身；fell down a well of alcohol and isolation 含隐喻的修辞手法，如果译为借酒消愁、酗酒成性等等，似乎也可，但修辞手法没有还原出来，叶子南选择译成淹没在酒精中，虽有失文采，但不失为两全译法。）
Jerry Shore’s story is simple, in many ways typical, and in most ways sad. He grew up in Oxford Circle, a lower-middle-class Jewish neighborhood outside Philadelphia, and, along with his twin brother, Fred, attended art schools at a time when Philadelphia had a great many of them. “He loved art,” Fred says. “He just lived everything visual.” He came to New York in the early sixties, like so many others, intending to become a painter—he worshipped de Kooning and Hofmann and Kline.
But he loved, too, the burgeoning realist and documentary cinema—his brother recalls that he had a special passion for Rossellini and Antonioni—and he soon found work with the director Harold Becker, who was then making documentary films. Together they made aseminal short film about the great French photographer Eugène Atget, who wandered the unpopulated streets of Paris with a huge camera, searching for images of the city that endured and the city that was disappearing. The Becker-Shore film is a beautiful fifteen minutes, silent save for Satie’s plangent “Gymnopédie No. 1” (not nearly the cliché that it later became), with slow, floating pans of Atget’s photographs of empty Paris streets and bridges and parks. It is lovely and sad enough to soften the heart of any lover of Paris, and oddly premonitory of the city views that Shore later did alone, in the same key but on a very different instrument.
（seminal 一个形容词单独译成一句话，“堪称是开先河之作”；It is lovely and sad enough 这里不是见了“and”就要译成而且、和等等，而是根据语境译成转折；sad enough to soften the heart of any lover of Paris 化主动为被动：“每位热爱巴黎的人看了此片此景都会被深深的感动”）
Shore found himself as a filmmaker, and for a while he became one of the most successful of the swinging generation of commercial directors, at a time when the thirty-second spot was, if not exactly a theatre of creativity, at least a mediumof riches and excitement. In 1969, after doing advertising work alongside Bert Stern and Jerry Bruckheimer, he opened his own shop, Jerry Shore Productions, and for the next fifteen years he was one of the most commercial of commercial directors. He made thirty- and sixty-second spots for Pepsi, Revlon, Maybelline. He was known for his lighting, his ability to make a seemingly improvised situation glamorous. Inevitably, like his contemporaries Jerry Schatzberg and Stern, he went off to Hollywood, where he made a couple of little features, including an adaptation of a Flannery O’Connor short story.
Desires are eternal, but their biddings are temporal; when Shore returned to New York, in the eighties, he found that the advertising industry had grown beyond the small, hip shops that had been dominant a decade earlier. Work suddenly became very hard to find, and his search for it was not helped by his drinking and depression. Friends say that he lost confidence, as can happen quickly to a man caught up in a confidence game.
（he found that the advertising industry had grown beyond the small, hip shops that had been dominant a decade earlier 译文完全没有原文的结构，译成便发现广告业已不复十多年前的状况，大多数的广告公司已不在曾经很流行的小店铺中经营）
Yet this was the moment when he gave himself over to a project that he may have begun sometime earlier, in the late seventies. He travelled through Manhattan and Queens, making large-scale, exquisitely printed color photographs of some of the most aesthetically unpersuasive streets in New York City. For the next ten years, until his death, he pursued this project, with a focus and self-discipline made all the more moving by his ever more distressed circumstances.
（exquisitely printed 单独译成一个短句；同样修饰大街的some of the most aesthetically unpersuasive 也单独译成一个短句，且用了“虽然”一词，不忘把原文的转折意思译出来；with a focus and self-discipline made all the more moving by his ever more distressed circumstances这句话译的尤为出色，by his ever more distressed circumstances 译成让步结构，虽然处境非常糟糕，这样就顺理成章地把with a focus and self-discipline 译成但是...;其中focus he self-discipline 译成动词。这是真正理解原文的基础上合理架构译文的结晶。）
Some colleagues who thought they knew him well didn’t even know that he was taking photographs, though on rare occasions he asked friends to accompany him. He would dress, they recall, in an unchanging daily uniform: worn bomber jacket, flannel shirt, khakis, and saddle shoes. For all his personal disorganization, he was able to handle his work with extraordinary care and methodical purpose: he roved the streets with a 35-mm. camera, “sketching” possible scenes in the least pictured vistas of the city. Then, later in the week, he would return and be ready to make his picture, waiting for the right light—the pregnant, rather than the decisive, moment—to take and keep a city corner that no one else might have thought worth preserving. The project, which seems to have begun as a kind of surcease from his commercial work—a way of recapturing some of the concerns and obsessions that had led him to New York and to art in the first place—soon became a substitute. It was all he did; given the number of images he left behind, he must have been out with his camera, hunting scenes and taking pictures, nearly every day until he died.
（The project, which seems to have begun as a kind of surcease from his commercial work—a way of recapturing some of the concerns and obsessions that had led him to New York and to art in the first place—soon became a substitute主语the project 进入定语从句，与定语从句译为一句话；而soon became a substitute 另起一句，加上转折“可是”，这样把原文一句长句译成两句汉语，且关系明确。）