Such extremes of black and white were Ansel Adams' trademark. The f/64 club, shoot with lens wide open. See what you can see.
I knew those mountains well in my youth. When I was young, my aunt and grannie rented a tent cabin at Camp Curry. My life was forever changed. I was a child born with wanderlust. In high school, every chance I got, I traveled across the state to Yosemite. Wild coming-of-age times, camping in the Big Meadow—a be-in, and the feds busting everyone.
I remember stopping by Ansel Adams photography studio in the valley. I was too afraid to speak, too afraid to take a photo of him, so I was content to watch him instead. He was an island of silence amidst his gaggle of photography students—all male I might add.
Little did I know, that in one half-life later, I'd spend time with Ansel's cousin. At a family gathering, I met the ex-wife Alice who didn't want to talk about Ansel. At all. He had that kind of effect on women. So did John, I might add. It was all in the eyes.
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| J. Malcolm Greany photo ca. 1950 Wiki commons |
To photograph truthfully and effectively
is to see beneath the surfaces. —Ansel Adams
Summer afternoons, he'd step out
of the darkroom for a quick breath.
As he leaned against the doorjam,
he'd shove the bifocals up his forehead,
cup his hands, light a cigarette.
As he bent his head to the flame,
small twin suns reflected
on that Half Dome of his pate.
He gazed into the distance
towards Tenaya and Cloud's Rest,
drew the smoke in deep,
his depth of field unfocused,
with lens open wide.
Then he finished his smoke
flicked it into the bin, shoved his glasses
up the bent ridge of his nose
and he stepped back
into the shuttered darkness
to face Tenaya in the negative light.
For a moment, water rippled in the pool
of memory, then closed in over that day
and sank to the depths like a stone.
4/11/2009
Medusa's Kitchen, 2010
Prompt: object, a la WCW Red Wheelbarrow
Prompt: object, a la WCW Red Wheelbarrow
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