Review #1 - Peer Review for Marc Karzen’s DERBY 1984
This manuscript is a photo essay, originally captured on film in 1984, presented anew for today’s audience as an answer to the question “What’s it like to go to a Kentucky Derby?”. Karzen uses a photo documentary style known as Gonzo journalism which allows him to step outside of rigid documentary presentation standards and insert more of his own style and interpretations in capturing his images.
Karzen presents 86 color images along with anecdotes from nine individuals associated with Churchill Downs and the Derby. The photo essay is divided into four main sections, highlighting pre-race, backside, the derby day, and post-race elements.
The stated goal of the manuscript is to present a photo essay that exposes what the “real” Kentucky Derby is like, not just the commercially presented Derby. Using photos taken in 1984 Karzen takes a direct look at the culture of this uniquely Kentucky event. What is so significant, of course, is that these images taken 40 years ago could have been taken this past May. The culture of the Derby has not changed. This makes the essay a document that is historic, and completely relevant today. Karzen’s Gonzo approach adds to the historic relevance by showing what the average spectator, community member, and participant experienced. We get to see the average crowd’s experiences not just the glossy, 1% experience. And of course, change the outfits and the hair and we are introduced to the crowd’s experience on any Derby event. Additionally, the anecdotes included with the photos bring the feeling of the event and its culture alive and current.
I absolutely enjoyed this work. Beyond the historic look at the topic of the essay, the photographic style used by Karzen has historic implications as well, reflecting a cultural moment in journalism. Karzen’s style has echoes of Robert Frank’s The Americans. Although the stated goal is to look at the theme of The Kentucky Derby, within that theme Karzen uses subthemes that Frank used when editing his seminal work, such as cars and restaurants, as cultural symbols along with iconic symbols of the Derby itself interspersed (such as roses and mint). With this in mind, the topic of the book is not all that should be considered; the photographers style is an important part of what makes this essay meaningful and historic. The style mirrors the topic and vis versa.
Editorial considerations: The structure and organization of the manuscript is appropriate; I did not notice inaccuracies, inconsistencies or libelous statements. I would suggest the usual editing for grammar, etc. Personally, I’d like a little more depth to the artist statement, but overall it is fine. My preference for depth might include some thoughts about his decisions editing the work from 1984 for a 2026 audience, his own subjective experience of the Derby over time, his thoughts as he put the work together in current culture, etc. As it stands, it is a good introduction to how he entered into the work, his creditability for doing the work, and some of the photojournalism culture at the time he did the work. (these notes have been implemented)
Marketing considerations: This book will appeal to a wide audience. Obviously, it will appeal to Derby goers past and present, tourism, Kentuckians, horse lovers and race enthusiasts. But I also think it will have appeal to those who love the photo essay, photojournalists, (in other words a photography audience), cultural historians, and art historians. I think the tone of this work is engaging to a wide level of readers. I myself was engaged from several points of view: the cultural history, the quality of the narrative, my own interest in work done in film, and the content of each photo (some of which are hilarious, some socially provocative). This work can be viewed and enjoyed superficially (content) for the average viewer, as well on deeper levels of understanding for the more nuanced viewer.
The press has begun to expand its offering of photo-oriented books, which I believe is a smart move as the current culture orients to a more visual way of exposing issues and presenting narrative. (Thompson’s Appalachian Ghosts is a recent example of this type of offering) I believe this book would fit as well as expand these sorts of offerings of the photo essay. Karzen’s work is every bit as stylistically and culturally significant, even if the topic itself is lighter. I highly recommend this book.
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Reader Response #2
Kentucky Derby 1984: Photographs by Marc Karzen
I am glad to have had the opportunity to review the advance manuscript for Marc Karzen’s “Gonzo” photography book, focused on the 1984 Kentucky Derby. First of all, as someone who is well-versed in the typical shots collected at Churchill Downs on Derby Day—steaming horses in barns in early morning, the historic Twin Spires as horses rush to the First Turn, absurd hats, people grinning as the Gold Cup and Garland of Roses walk by with their honor guards, champagne dousing the crowded winner’s circle—it is always such a delight to see Louisville’s Derby fever showcased in new and entertaining ways.
Marc Karzen’s photographs certainly deliver on these unexpected perspectives; and, as seems appropriate for a book hoping to capture some of the celebration’s decadence and depravity a la Thompson and Steadman, I found myself grinning and giggling quite a lot at Karzen’s work. I’ve been privileged to research and curate primary materials from The Kentucky Derby is Decadant and Depraved before, and I could certainly see correlations between that Gonzo masterpiece and Karzen’s 1984 coverage. While the photographs in this manuscript are, at their most shocking, a mere PG-13 rating to Thompson and Steadman’s R (or X) extravaganza from 1970, there are still enough slack-jawed drunks, seedy theaters, and lawless antics to satisfy Karzen’s claim that this is a cocktail with a “twist of grit.”
I found many of the photographs distinctly interesting and beautiful, able to stand apart from the book’s larger conceit. That, in and of itself, makes the publication of this book worthwhile. I hope, however the following suggestions are received, that these nice photographs will find their way into a published volume that will be enjoyed and treasured by many—including myself.
To that point, I was particularly enchanted by the way that Karzen’s photographs prove how broad the appeal of Derby celebrations are to Louisvillians—across classes, genders, and races/ethnicities. It’s easy, in Derby coverage, to zero in on a particular kind of Derby-goer of the 1980s—fine suit, big sunglasses, bigger cigar, couture-outfitted entourage. Karzen avoids this cliché, to the credit of this project. Instead (with only a few exceptions), we get the charming assortment from Senior House (page 42), the intrepid, no-nonsense counter guards of the Track Kitchen Register (page 60), be-jeaned and ballcapped handicappers traipsing over the litter of the track to watch the race on a tiny screen (page 89), a particularly arresting photograph at The Scales (page 96), and the still-familiar neighborhood beer/souvenir/parking huckster (page 106).
Most of these photos—even those without people, like the great shot of the Gay Nineties and Savoy Theater (page 26)—make a clear and convincing case for why they caught Karzen’s eye. How could you not take a photo of the sad sack walking past the Quarter Pole Lounge (page 21), so far from the frenetic energy of the actual quarter pole at Churchill Downs? Who couldn’t love the way the woman’s bright yellow pantsuit and red jacket matches the lettering on the Belle of Louisville (page 33)?
It was, however, difficult for me not to have a little more context about certain scenes and what Karzen felt they revealed about experiencing Derby week in Louisville. I didn’t always feel like I understood the connection of the images to the working mind of the photographer-on-assignment. Because the photos are interesting and visually striking, I can sense the photographer’s thought process, but I find myself wishing I could ask him—“Tell me the story of this one!” After all, as Karzen himself says, “Gonzo journalism disregards the strictly edited product once favored by newspaper media and strives for a more personal approach; the personality of a piece is as important as the event or actual subject of the piece.” Doesn’t that mean that the experience of Karzen as a photographer on this assignment should have a bit more prominence?
A good case in point. I absolutely love the image titled “Photo Studio, Downtown Louisville”—likewise, a number of photographs in a similar vein: street scenes in Louisville, often without a discernable connection to Derby other than the fact that they were taken on Derby week. Although I understand that these are valuable for a “sense of place” purpose (and mind, I am in no way advocating for their removal), what did they say to Karzen about Derby? Besides being great-looking buildings, what do the Fentress Tackle Shop (page 27), Bluegrass Auto Supply (page 49), or the unnamed tire store (page 50) mean to Karzen as a photojournalist. Within this book, as organized, these images make me stumble—even if I like them as photographs.
Some of this feeling I have may ultimately come from the organization/grouping of the photographs. As strictly a coffee table book of pretty pictures, it can certainly work as it has been arranged—and work well. I suspect that the majority of the core audience for this book—people who love Derby and, more specifically, remember attending Derby in the 1980s—wouldn’t give a fig about the context I’m asking for. Even so, I feel like the appeal of these photographs is broader than just this core audience. Karzen might consider a few of the following suggestions that may strengthen the overall impact of the book for everyone, even people who would have liked the book no matter how it was organized.
First, there may be a benefit to the manuscript to combining the Introduction (pages 6-8) with the “Gonzo Derby” section (pages 19-20). The latter section provides the motivation for the approach to the whole photojournalistic assignment, so it seems jarring to have them appear as separate sections. In so doing, I feel like there is an opportunity to address some of the context issues I mentioned earlier. By simply (and briefly) orienting the reader to the themes/emotions/feelings one should expect from each section, and how they relate to the larger conceit of a “Gonzo” approach through Karzen’s lens, the Introduction can do some of the heavy lifting for the reader’s understanding of the “why?” of the selected photographs.
In the current introduction, Karzen does mention that the photographs are intended to be “an unvarnished look that included side-streets in downtown Louisville, night clubs, street parties, and scenes from all-around-the-track.” This would be a great opportunity to weave in the “Gonzo” concept and indicate more concretely why a random tire shop on a Louisville side street became a Derby subject for Karzen. I am ready and willing to accept the connection, but I need one to be offered, all the same.
Could Karzen, for example, add into the Introduction a few sentences per basic theme by which he has grouped the photos? Tell us why the Shaw High School marching band (page 18, one of my favorites!) photograph says as much about Derby week as “In the Track Tunnel” (page 78), or “Paddock Area” (page 82), or “High Heel Exit” (page 108, another favorite). Could he indicate how photographing places like the unnamed Louisville tire store during Derby week differs from photographing it a week later?
Some of this is a natural consequence of the “insider baseball” nature of Karzen’s personal connection to the Derby. I totally get that, and I think it has its advantages. As he says, like many teenagers growing up in Louisville, he knew how to make an Old Fashioned at a Derby Party from a tender age. Lots of people will connect with Karzen over that—as they will over recognizing places (and perhaps even people) in his photographs. The tire store, on which I appear to be stuck, apparently, may have an unseen significance that someone with less inborn understanding of Derby week may miss.
A few miscellaneous notes, before I close.
It is incorrect, in the introduction, when Karzen talks about the Derby and its association with the First Saturday in May. You can see in this resource from Churchill Downs that the 1931 Kentucky Derby did not take place on the First Saturday, but rather the Second Saturday in May. The common placement of Derby Day on the calendar was not standardized until 1946, at which point the Derby appeared on the First Saturday in May for 73 years, until the 2020 postponement until September because of the COVID-19 pandemic. It’s in the weeds, I know, but I feel it would be good to be accurate. (fixed)
The addition of meditations/reminiscences from other voices related to the 1984 Derby is effective—in some cases more than others. Bill Doolittle’s piece is very good, of course, and I really loved reading something from Charlsie Cantey and Lee Wagner. All of them really made you feel the things you were seeing in the photographs. I really liked the juxtaposition, too, of Kathy Carey’s statement about out-of-towners having lots of “opinions,” right next to the “Churchill Downs Courtesy Ride.”
The text portions throughout the manuscript can also benefit from a thoughtful copyeditor with an eye to punctuation and such.
I do, however, heartily recommend this book to be published. There is an enthusiastic and built-in Kentucky audience ready to gobble it up. Any changes recommended here will, I think, only broaden that audience and make the experience of reading the book more meaningful than it already is. I am very glad to have been able to take a look at this project, and I can see why Karzen is interested in sharing these photographs and experiences more broadly.