(...) Ackerman explains, with the directness that makes him his own best commentator: »I think that the need to photograph comes from the need to hold on to what’s most important to you. You live with an awareness that’s everything’s going to go away and that the things that most powerfully move you are the ephemeral. It seems natural that if photography can do anything, it can somehow get at that - remind you of what you felt.«

(...) When I pointed out that this was quite a remarkable transformation of the camera, from an instrument that records informations to one that records feelings, Ackerman cited the observation of a friend, the photographer Sarah Moon: »She said that I always press the button at the wrong time. I related right away, because I’ve always pressed the button in the awkward moments, or in the moment in between moments, the time in between the times. And that’s why the pictures have always been a surprise to me because it’s in those instances of transition that something unexpected is revealed, something you sensed but didn’t see.« (...)

Extracts from the article by Miriam Rosen »What was there and what I felt - The pictures of Michael Ackerman«, in: Art on Paper, New York, Jan. Feb. 2002, pp. 48-53