Starred Review for Kirkus Reviews

A day in the life of photographer Roy DeCarava shows readers the joy of the everyday in Harlem.Roy DeCarava (1919-2009) gets off work, and now his "time is his own." He loads a roll of film in his camera and pays attention to what he sees around him in Harlem. Relying on his senses, he takes in the city. With his camera, he captures a variety of sights. A boy drawing on the sidewalk with chalk. An artist showing his paintings as the sunlight catches his hat. A mother and son: the love in the boy's eyes. A crushed soda can. And then there are the sights he can't catch. A man holding a child as the bus pulls in front and blocks the photographer's shot. Lewis' watercolors, while not an obvious choice to echo the realism of photography, successfully capture the magical relationship between DeCarava and his subjects. With skillful use of line, light, and depth, Lewis transports readers and conveys the vision of an artist honoring the city he loves. Golio's understated text makes judicious use of profound quotes from DeCarava himself on beauty and truth. Present-tense narration carries the energy of a vibrant neighborhood as seen through the attentive eyes of a brilliant visionary, while artistic details connote the period-specific portrait DeCarava drew of mid-20th-century Harlem.This memorable offering is one readers will return to for moments of inspiration. (more information on DeCarava, timeline, bibliography, list of museums featuring DeCarava's work, photos, photo credits) (Picture-book biography. 4-9)

ALA Booklist

Surprisingly, none of the illustrations in this loving tribute to African American photographer DeCarava t even the three actual photos in the end matter e examples of his work. Instead, Lewis gives a selection of DeCarava's subjects, such as a close-up of a crushed can, longer views of Harlem street scenes, and an isolated figure in wedding whites, original treatments that focus more on atmosphere than documentation and so make suitable companions for Golio's impressionistic profile. "There's a boy on his hands and knees, / drawing chalk on the sidewalk. / He looks up and grins. / SNAP! / Roy keeps on walking." The author captures both his titular theme and his subject's sensibility in well-chosen direct quotes, and along with adding a brief overview of DeCarava's career, closes by urging readers to "look slowly," as he did, to discover "what you love where you live." Prints of his photos are available in exhibition catalogs, but a recent reprint of Langston Hughes' Sweet Flypaper of Life makes a better sampling newly available for younger lookers.

Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)

A day in the life of photographer Roy DeCarava shows readers the joy of the everyday in Harlem.Roy DeCarava (1919-2009) gets off work, and now his "time is his own." He loads a roll of film in his camera and pays attention to what he sees around him in Harlem. Relying on his senses, he takes in the city. With his camera, he captures a variety of sights. A boy drawing on the sidewalk with chalk. An artist showing his paintings as the sunlight catches his hat. A mother and son: the love in the boy's eyes. A crushed soda can. And then there are the sights he can't catch. A man holding a child as the bus pulls in front and blocks the photographer's shot. Lewis' watercolors, while not an obvious choice to echo the realism of photography, successfully capture the magical relationship between DeCarava and his subjects. With skillful use of line, light, and depth, Lewis transports readers and conveys the vision of an artist honoring the city he loves. Golio's understated text makes judicious use of profound quotes from DeCarava himself on beauty and truth. Present-tense narration carries the energy of a vibrant neighborhood as seen through the attentive eyes of a brilliant visionary, while artistic details connote the period-specific portrait DeCarava drew of mid-20th-century Harlem.This memorable offering is one readers will return to for moments of inspiration. (more information on DeCarava, timeline, bibliography, list of museums featuring DeCarava's work, photos, photo credits) (Picture-book biography. 4-9)

Publishers Weekly (Fri Oct 06 00:00:00 CDT 2023)

In an image-centered picture book that summons the senses, the creators navigate Harlem through the lens of photographer Roy DeCarava (1919–2009). Muted watercolor illustrations lend a snapshot quality to each structurally composed scene, beginning with a metropolitan sidewalk: “It’s five o’clock. Work is over. Roy’s time is his own now.” Camera in hand on the subway, he photographs a dozing man; aboveground, a boy drawing with sidewalk chalk: “SNAP!” An artist displaying paintings on the street next catches DeCarava’s eye, then a mother photographing her son. Brief descriptive snippets, peppered with quotations from the book’s subject, accompany each image, exploring how the photographer “sees so much beauty everywhere,” from a crumpled soda can to “Black and brown bodies/ shining bright” in the wash of a fire hydrant. DeCarava captures it all—and so too do Golio and Lewis—in this luminous tribute. Includes more about the subject and a bibliography. Ages 7–10. (Jan.)

School Library Journal (Mon Jan 01 00:00:00 CST 2024)

K-Gr 3 —Veteran creators and collaborators Golio and Lewis ( Dark Was the Night ) spotlight the experience and perspective of Harlem artist Roy DeCarava. Known for his black-and-white photographs of scenes of everyday life, DeCarava said he showed "the strength, the wisdom, the dignity of the Negro people." Lewis's watercolors play with light in an ode to that work, though where DeCarava is known for deep blacks and complex greys, Lewis's watercolor illustrations are soft and light. Golio's prose is swift, providing a single snapshot of words on each page, devoid of excess. While each element of this book is beautiful and skillfully executed, there is a disconnect between DeCarava's work and this interpretation. Only three photographs grace the pages, all in the back matter: a portrait of DeCarava, a photo of his first camera, and a photo outside a Harlem apartment by an unknown photographer. The intensity—in emotion, tonality, and composition—of DeCarava's work is absent here and a disservice to readers. Ultimately, this love letter to an incredible artist needs the scaffolding of an extended biography. VERDICT Consider only for larger libraries and robust art/biography collections.—Taylor Worley