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HE LEGEND OF Kosti Ruohomaa, like most artists who die young, has grown to mythic proportions since his sudden death in 1961.

ONE STORY PAINTS the picture of a raw Maine morning. A stranger wanders about at the edge of the sea, two cameras slung over his shoulder. Seeing he is soaked to the bone, a local woman asks him in for coffee and questions what he is up to. His answer is simple. "I'm looking at the fog." And with that, the stranger - Kosti - disappears back into the mist.
  THOUGH HIS LIFE WAS HAUNTED, there is a soothing calm in his photographs. "Kosti found peace in rural life," remembers a Life editor, "The train coming into the station, the farmer leaving the barn."

HOWARD CHAPNICK called Kosti a true artist: "The word is thrown around with gay abandon in photography - this picture looks like a Rembrandt, that one like a Renoir. Kosti's photographs do not have to be compared to the work of painters. A Ruohamaa picture looks like a Ruohamaa!"
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