The Online Photographer: Obituaries

Obituaries

Friday, 03 September 2010

A Death in the Community

"Our autobiography is written in our contact sheets,
and our opinion of the world in our selects."
—Bill Pierce

"Photographers" make up a far-flung community. We come from all over globe, are of almost every age, and have very little in common except our interest in photography and our love of some aspect or aspects of it. And yet that's often enough to make us friends of a sort, and give us a shared bond.

Every now and then we lose one of our group. I was reminded of that the other day when Christopher Booth's wife Gillian Marshall wrote to explain why she was cancelling his subscription donation to TOP. I didn't know him, but at dinner last night I quietly raised a glass to the memory of Chris—one of us.

Another member of the community we lost a while back was John Stovall, of Texas, who, his friends tell me, liked to be called only by his last name. He was an outsized character with strong opinions who lived a full and by all accounts eventful life.

He also seemed to be exerting the force of his personality on events even after his death. Rick Waldroup explains:

John was laid to rest at Burkett Cemetery, located in an extremely remote yet beautiful area between Coleman and Cross Plains, Texas. Folks, when I say remote, I mean remote—this place is literally out in the middle of nowhere. After arriving at the cemetery, I could understand why John chose this place. It was close to where he grew up in Coleman, it is so remote and peaceful, and finally, it is so Texas-like—and I never knew anyone, including myself, who loved Texas more than John. The first thing I noticed was the absolute silence. Very, very few cars passed by, no planes flying overhead—just this beautiful, pristine Texas countryside that John had chosen as the last resting place for his wife and himself. It was a small cemetery, yet one of the most beautiful and peaceful places I have ever been to.

There were only a handful of people there when I arrived (and how I arrived is a strange story in itself) and I estimate that by the time the service started, there were approximately 40 people in attendence. However, there had been a memorial service earlier that morning at John's church in Dublin, which drew a large crowd.

On my way to the funeral, I got lost. Now, I pride myself on being able to read a map, and I almost never, ever get lost. But there I was, outside of Dublin, driving down a Farm to Market road (or an FM road), when suddenly, because of some contstruction, I had to detour on several gravel county roads. After about 30 minutes of driving around and not seeing another car or living soul, I realized I was lost. A slight panic set in as I began to worry about being late to the funeral.

I finally made my way back to a hardtop road, but there were no signs and I could not even tell what direction I was headed in. I drove blindly, hoping to come across civilization somewhere—hoping to find a small town or a gast station where I could stop for directions. Another 15 minutes passed without seeing anyone. Then, as I topped a hill, I could see a car ahead of me, in the distance. I sped up, and as I got closer, I began to really look at the car—there was something unusual about it. As I got closer, that is when I realized that it was a hearse. I could tell it had a casket in it. It was John. I just knew it had to be, because what are the odds that another hearse would be in such a remote area, and then I began to think about the odds of me coming across the hearse in such a remote area. I knew it had to be John.

So, I did what any good photographer would do, I grabbed a camera. I followed the hearse all the way to the cemetery. And that is how I found my way there.

Rick originally told this story on the GetDPI forums, where Stovall was a frequent participant, and Kent Phelan passed it along to me. Stovall left many comments here on TOP, too, over the years. I've republished Rick's words and pictures here with his generous permission.

Adios, bro.

Mike
(Thanks to Rick and Kent)

View of Texas from John Stovall's grave. Photo by Rick Waldroup.

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Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.

Posted on Friday, 03 September 2010 at 06:06 PM in Obituaries | Permalink | Comments (10)

Monday, 16 August 2010

A Bad Day

The Herman Leonard exhibit last fall at Lincoln Center. Photo by Brian Smith.

Saturday was a bad day for jazz fans, and photographers. We lost Abbey Lincoln—and Herman Leonard.

Here's Mr. Leonard's obituary, from the L.A. Times. Here's Ms. Lincoln's, from New York, where she lived on the Upper West Side. He was 87, she was 80.

At the Brian Smith link, above, take a look at the examples of the Herman Leonard prints destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. Brian comments, "out of tragedy, sometimes comes beauty."

At Herman's website, they quote what Tony Bennett said when he was told Frank Sinatra had died: "I don't have to believe that."

Cover photograph from Abbey Sings Abbey, from 2007 (Photo by Jean-Marc Lubrano).

As for Abbey Lincoln, do me a favor. Go to iTunes or eMusic and look up a 1957 album of hers called "That's Him." (Forgive me, I prefer the Riverside titles from the '50s, jazz from the second half of the '50s being where I live, musically speaking.) Download the song "Tender as a Rose." Don't play it right away. Late tonight, when everything's quiet and dark and no one's bothering you, cue it up and have a listen.

A fond farewell.

Mike

Featured Comment by Ed hawco: "There's a nice gallery of some of Leonard's work at the Edelman Gallery's website. (With big thumbnails—easy to navigate.)"

Featured Comment by Ron W: "On the Legendary Rhythm and Blues Cruise in 2005 I discovered that Mr. Leonard was one of the passengers, and we had some wonderful conversations about music and photography. Thinking about what he said and what others have said, he was very encouraging of other photographers. Several of his photos are in a slideshow on the Washington Post website [behind a free password —Ed.] and he was also recently honored by the Montreal Jazz Festival. I was pleased to purchase one of his books from him, and of course there will finally be an American published book of his photographs coming out this fall.

"There are obituaries for both Ms. Lincoln and him on the allaboutjazz.com website.

"Let us celebrate two well-lived lives that have passed on."

Posted on Monday, 16 August 2010 at 08:30 PM in Music Notes, Obituaries, Photographers, historical | Permalink | Comments (13)

Wednesday, 23 June 2010

Joe Deal 1947-2010

I'm sorry to report that Joe Deal, of Providence, Rhode Island, who we last talked about here, died of his illness last friday. Joe's pictures are elegant, analytical, accurate, and austere, with elements of abstraction, usually showing the raw encroachment of new development on landscape that still shows its natural contours and textures. There is an obituary at the St. Louis website stltoday.com (he was the Dean of the Art School at Washington University there during the '90s), and you can read a little about his post-New-Topographics work The Fault Zone at Robert Mann.

Sincere condolences to his wife, daughter, and father, as well as to his many students and friends.

Mike
(Thanks to Kent Phelan)

Posted on Wednesday, 23 June 2010 at 05:54 PM in Obituaries | Permalink | Comments (1)

Tuesday, 08 June 2010

Traces

Joe Deal: I just learned today that the fine photographer Joe Deal is very sick. I last published one of Joe's pictures here in this post, about the New Topographics movement and book. It's hardly the whole story of his life as a photographer, of course, but being part of the New Topographics is probably what he's best known for. He's one of those photographers who are good rather than known. His most recent book, West and West: Reimagining the Great Plains, was published last October, and a major show of his work just opened three days ago at the Center for Creative Photography in Tucson, Arizona.

We wish Joe the best and send our thoughts to him and his family (I went to school with his wife, something I also just found out, although we haven't kept in touch).

By Joe Deal

First Professor: The English photographer John Hedgecoe has died, on June 3rd. If I'm honest, I have to say I never knew anything about John Hedgecoe the man; I was mainly familiar with his ubiquitous and energetic instructional books, which have long been a staple of bookstore shelves throughout the English-speaking world. The most famous was The Photographer's Handbook, but there are many. His method was to devote one or two pages to a great many topics, covering techniques and technical issues with a catholic comprehensiveness and lots of good example illustrations.

I learned from his obituary at the BJP Online—well, I learned first of all that he is a man, and not a branded consortium like "Franklin W. Dixon"—he might have been, given the many things he accomplished—anyway, I learned that he "established the department of Photography at the Royal College of Art in the mid-1960s, becoming the first ever professor of photography in the U.K. in 1975." That's quite a distinction, right there. His comments quoted at the end of the BJP Online article are interesting, too, especially given the nature of his life's work.

Wadded up: As for the goings-on here at chez TOP, I spent the entire day today writing 2500 words to kick off my new "classic film" book which everybody was so encouraging about, only to toss it. False start. Speaking of "analogue" vs. digital, I believe that wadded-up sheets of paper on the floor surrounding a wastebasket (analogue) is far more eloquent than simply hitting the "delete" key (digital), although the latter is undeniably more efficient and less wasteful of resources. The former has a visual aspect that speaks eloquently of effortful frustration; the latter is just vanished, ffft, with nary a trace.

I'll begin again tomorrow.

Mike
(Thanks to Art Elkon, Jeffrey Goggin, and Joe Reifer)

Posted on Tuesday, 08 June 2010 at 08:19 PM in News and Occasions, Obituaries | Permalink | Comments (27)

Sunday, 06 June 2010

Brian Duffy 1933-2010

Regular readers will recall our posts about Brian Duffy, one of the three leading lights of 1960s photography in Britain who later simply walked away from it all. We really only pointed to the excellent BBC video about him online, and our doing so was notable only because, as the photographer's son Chris Duffy later put it, we "pointed gazillions of people to the documentary" and crashed their server.

The video is still there (with more robust hosting)—to get to it you go to the Duffy website > Exhibits & Links > Play Documentary—and is still well worth seeing, if you haven't. But Duffy himself succumbed to lung disease last Monday.

Eamonn McCabe penned an obituary at The Guardian.

Our condolences to his family and friends.

Mike

Posted on Sunday, 06 June 2010 at 02:27 PM in Obituaries | Permalink | Comments (1)

Thursday, 25 March 2010

Artists Ain't Saints: Jim Marshall, 1936-2010

By Ctein

I'm feeling mildly discombobulated. I just found out an hour ago that Jim Marshall died in his sleep last night (Tuesday night) in his hotel room in New York City; he was there for another show opening and to give some lectures. There are no details at this time. I imagine his body simply...stopped. He was 74, and honestly it was amazing he made it this far.

There's a photo of Jim himself here.

Jim didn't treat that body well. Understand that I hate the term "substance abuse." Our strait-laced, puritanical society considers any use of mind altering substances outside of the legally-accepted norm to be "abuse." Sorry to burst that bubble...wait, no, I'm not sorry at all...but society is filled with highly productive people who spend substantial amounts of each day in, um, altered states. They use, they don't abuse.

Well, that wasn't Jim. Jim abused. He abused in spades. His clean and sober periods were short intermissions in a lifelong tightrope act. Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll epitomized most of Jim's adult life (okay, I'm guessing about the sex part, but, you know, given the temper and the times, it's kind of hard to imagine it any other way.)

I started printing for Jim in April of 2001. Six dye transfer prints of this photograph of Miles Davis. Up to that point I had run my business on a cash-up-front basis. Made billing and bookkeeping a hell of a lot simpler. I told Jim that's how I worked and he said, "Sure, no problem!" By the third invoice, he was having me run an account for him. It just kind of happened. Jim was one of those forces of nature; he liked to do things his way, and the whole world warped itself to make it possible.

Practically the first thing Jim told me was to make a print for myself of anything I printed for him and he'd sign it. For all I know, my collection of Jim Marshall prints is worth more than everything he paid me over the last decade. He could alternate between being ridiculously tightfisted and incredibly generous. Mess with his intellectual property rights and he would go for your throat, literally and legally. Lots of people tried to rip him off, sometimes people who should know better like major magazines and television networks, sometimes just people who thought they could get away with putting a photograph of his on a T-shirt. Jim made a lot of money off of the many people who tried to rip him off. But ask Jim for something, almost anything, and if he didn't think you were out to rip him off, he'd say yes.

I digitally printed this photograph for Jim late last year. I thought it was one of the best photos of his I'd ever printed; it was like rich velvety chocolate. When I brought my copy to him to be signed, I told him how good I thought that photo was and that I was going to give it to my best friend as a birthday gift, because she was a huge Miles fan. Jim said, "That's cool. Print up another one for yourself and I'll sign that too."

Unless you follow the music business or have been a fan of Jim's, you really have no idea how many famous photographs he made. Check out the collections on his website, and be sure to click through the little square thumbnails; they're crops for identification purposes, not the whole photograph. People going to that site to buy work know what they're looking for, and the thumbnails work as commerce, not as a good displays of art.

But there's a whole body of Jim's work that's hardly known, civil rights photography that he did in the South before he became famous for music photographs. It's serious, profound, fascinating work. He should be famous for it. Of course he won't be. He'll be remembered for his iconic music photographs, unless some curator "rediscovers" him 50 years from now.

Not endearing
Then there's the other Jim. It drove me crazy that he'd casually throw out epithets like "nigger," especially because I knew that if there were ever a white man who didn't have a racist bone in his body (and I'm not convinced there is) it was probably Jim. It's that Jim didn't care; when he felt like being offensive, he was oblivious to who he offended and how. He just vented. Some people would say he spoke his mind. Some, from a distance, might even think that was an endearing trait. I was there. It so very much wasn't.

And if he was on a tear, you didn't want to be in his way. There's a story that in his younger days he and Hunter Thompson got in a pissing match and Hunter Thompson backed down. I entirely believe. Nobody wanted to be on the wrong side of Jim, and we all did a lot of tiptoeing and a certain amount of fancy footwork to make sure we didn't get there.

It didn't always work. Two years after I started printing for Jim, he took great offense at something I did. I insisted upon giving him an estimate for a rather large job before I started on it. It set him off; he was hugely offended that I didn't trust him to pay me no matter what the job cost. Go figure. Have I mentioned that Jim was not entirely rational?

He was so upset he wouldn't even talk to me about it. Ever. I didn't hear from him again for four years.

I got off lucky. A colleague of mine who was doing custom film processing for Jim some years ago had a gun pulled on him! Kind of soured that relationship.

Finally, Amelia, his walks-on-water assistant, convinced him in 2007 that he really needed to be dealing with me if he wanted to get any more dye transfer prints made. But he still couldn't stand the idea of talking to me. Everything had to go through her as an intermediary. That nonsense went on for about eight months. I knew it was ridiculous; Amelia knew it was ridiculous. Jim was being...well...Jim. But by this point I'd figured out some of Jim's buttons. I made a nice digital print of one of my photographs he really liked (the Apollo 17 liftoff), signed it to him personally, giftwrapped it, and gave it to Amelia to give to him as a Christmas gift.

Mid-morning, December 26, the phone rings: "Hey, Ctein, buddy, it's Jim. I really love that photograph. Thanks so much, man! I need some stuff printed, when can you have them for me?"

And life was back to normal with Jim Marshall, if I am allowed to use the words "Jim Marshall" and "normal" in the same sentence. I managed to avoid ticking him off after that, although there were a few perilous missteps along the way. It worked out okay; if he pushed too hard, I pushed back...very, very carefully. And rarely without consulting with Amelia, in case I was about to misstep. Sometimes I felt like dealing with Jim was not like walking on eggs—it was like walking on hedgehogs. Barefoot. At least he never threatened my life.

The last time I printed for Jim, it was three dye transfers of Jimi Hendrix in his blue shirt and a digital print of Janis on her psychedelic Porsche, a previously unprinted and unpublished photograph. Not the same one that's in his books. This one has the trademark Janis grin. I like it better.

And that's all he wrote. Possibly the most generous and irritating man I've ever worked with. I'd be surprised if I ever meet anyone more generous. I sure as hell hope I never meet anyone more irritating. Alkie, druggie, abusive, and open-hearted. An exhausting combination.

F*ck that sh*t
Some of you reading this may be mildly offended by the tone of what I've written. Or even majorly offended. Too bad. This is the kind of attitude that Jim respected and liked. I'm really sorry he's gone, and he'd be happy to know that I'm really sorry he's gone. Jim always wanted badly to be liked. And I really did like that royal pain in the ass. But if I got all pious and holy and handwringing on him now, his ghost would rise up to haunt me, rattling chains and saying, as Jim frequently did, "F*ck that sh*t, man!"

I can't wait to see the photos the man is gonna send back from hell. They are going to be dynamite!

Jim Marshall, dead at 74. I could say R.I.P., but honestly I think that would be altogether last on his wish list.

Ctein

Ctein's regular weekly column on TOP appears every Thursday morning.

Featured Comment by Paul: "Of course my favourite Jim Marshall images are those of Jimi Hendrix. I suppose there will be one big party this weekend up in the sky. Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison and loads more all posing for Jim Marshall. There will be one very lonely M4 missing his owner down here."

One of Jim Marshall's M4 Leicas

Featured Comment by David Seelig: "I knew Jim for 25 years or so nice obit Ctein and very accurate as to how Jim was, I will miss him."

Featured Comment by Nick Despotopoulos: "As the guy whose company built & ran Jim's website for the past year plus, a collector of his work and a close friend since 1988 I can say that Ctein has it the way it was man...no sh*t! Also let me say that working with Ctein on Jim's stuff for the past few years has been a pleasure—he's a true professional. Now where's that bottle of Wisers Whisky...Nick Despotopoulos, Groovy Collectibles LLC for groovycollectibles.com."

Featured Comment by Jeff Kausch: "Jim was an Advertising Photographers of America San Francisco Executive Board Member, a close friend of many APA members, and a central character in the Bay Area Photo Community for decades, so we have created a special section on the APA SF blog to help honor him. Photographer Jock McDonald and agent Norman Maslov are just two of Jim’s friends who have already contributed. If you have any stories or photos of Jim or relevant links to share, please email them to us. Thanks."

Featured Comment by Fern: "Thank You...you have so beautifully captured the essence of this man. Through the lovely Amelia I had the honor of meeting Jim. While perusing his photos one afternoon when he graciously offered to donate any photo I wanted for my special breast cancer fundraiser, and before I could even think about leaving after being mesmerized for hours by his incredible work, I had to celebrate some occasion with Jim, who would simply not allow me to decline several shots of fine whiskey. I also had to work really hard at graciously declining his requests to come away with him for the weekend! Rock on Jim!"

Posted on Thursday, 25 March 2010 at 12:25 AM in Ctein, Obituaries, Photographers, historical | Permalink | Comments (69)

Friday, 19 March 2010

Peter Gowland 1916-2010

Agh, we've lost Peter Gowland. I just heard. Glamor photographer, camera inventor, all-around photographic raconteur, a fixture on the scene.

I'd like to take this opportunity to re-publish a brief piece that our friend Oren Grad wrote for this site about Peter on the occasion of Peter's 90th birthday, in April, 2006:

The multitalented Peter Gowland—Hollywood bit actor, renowned glamor photographer, camera builder extraordinaire, and all-around fun guy—turned 90 last week. I leave it to the more scholarly types to opine on the esthetic and cultural significance of the Gowland photo-oeuvre; his cool cameras are just as worthy of celebration.

Gowland developed at least five distinct large-format designs—a lightweight monorail view camera, an architectural camera, an aerial camera, a single-lens reflex and a twin-lens reflex—most of which have been offered in multiple formats and with a wide array of custom variations available to meet the needs of each purchaser. Perhaps the most exotic are the 4x5 Gowland SLR and the monster 8x10 Gowlandflex TLR. (Click here and scroll down a couple of rows to see the 5x7 TLR in action on the beach, photographing Raquel Welch.) At the other extreme is the ubiquitous 4x5 Gowland Pocket View monorail, co-marketed for a time by Calumet, which turns up regularly on eBay and on used equipment shelves and which can still be purchased new from Gowland.

I've owned three Gowlands over the years. My first, a very early 8x10 monorail purchased used, was a truly spartan design—little more than a bellows riding on a pipe. (With time, the Pocket View design was refined to make it easier to use and more functional.) Later, Peter built for me an ultralight 5x7 short-rail view camera intended for field work with a 180mm lens, and then a bag-bellows version of his 6x9cm 'baby' monorail. Each time, it was a pleasure doing business. Peter would answer the phone himself, and spend the time to understand what I was hoping to accomplish and brainstorm about what he might cobble together in his shop that would be a good match.

I've linked to a few pages from the Gowland website, but it's worth the time to explore the whole thing, starting from the top. It's chock full of fun stuff about his life and work, with plenty of surprises for those who don't already know about him. Have a look and join me in a toast to Peter Gowland: a very happy 90th, and best wishes for many more years of good health and photo fun!
—Oren Grad
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Mike
(Thanks to Oren)

Featured Comment by David A. Goldfarb: "When I bought my first large format camera on eBay—a Gowland 8x10" PocketView that I still use—I had to order a few small items like lensboards and an extension rail, so I sent a letter to an address I found online, and Peter Gowland called me himself to check on the details of my lensboards. I think he really just wanted to talk to someone who was using one of his cameras, because he loved chatting about them and finding out what people were up to. We've periodically stayed in contact since then through e-mail. He was a true gentleman."

Posted on Friday, 19 March 2010 at 03:56 PM in Obituaries | Permalink | Comments (15)

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