I’ve been shipping out copies of my new book. A few are gifts to photographers whose work I’ve long admired.
I sent one to Robert Adams.
At 85 years old, Adams has had a long and influential life as a photographer and writer. He’s a brilliant, tireless and humble man whose images are inspired by a strong sense of place. The work explores both the fragility and the delight of the landscape, paying particular attention to the devastation we humans have caused. Ultimately, his pictures are about the light and beauty that remain. They are quiet, but the silence can be quite loud. He’s published over 40 books of photography, and if you’re a photographer, you’ve no doubt read Beauty in Photography and Why People Photograph.
Mr. Adams is currently being honored for his beautiful, thoughtful and important work at the National Gallery of Art with a major exhibition and accompanying book. Both are entitled “American Silence: The Photographs of Robert Adams.”
He kindly took the time to look at/read my book. Then he sat down and hand-wrote me a letter.
In it he said the book is both lovely and splendid. He also thanked me for “caring about us all, for getting down humbly enough to show us the saving beauty of grass” (he noted that the picture to which he was referring is on page 49).
And he also said this: “Your book goes hand in hand with Dorothea Lange’s To A Cabin, another book that rescued me in hard times. The children especially.”
Well, you can imagine that, by this time, I’m fairly well overcome.
I’m not familiar with To A Cabin, I’m kind of embarrassed to admit. But I found a reasonably priced copy and ordered it today. I can’t wait to see the pictures that Mr. Adams thought some of my images went hand in hand with. Even though I begin I Hope You Find What You’re Looking For with a quote by her, I have not delved into Lange’s oeuvre before. That’s about to change.
Rather than “kind regards” or “warmly,” Robert Adams closed his letter with the word “courage.”
Damn.
Some days you just get the best mail.
The image shown here is one of my favorites from Robert Adams' book Summer Nights, published in 1985.
I’ve been shipping out copies of my new book. A few are gifts to photographers whose work I’ve long admired.
I sent one to Robert Adams.
At 85 years old, Adams has had a long and influential life as a photographer and writer. He’s a brilliant, tireless and humble man whose images are inspired by a strong sense of place. The work explores both the fragility and the delight of the landscape, paying particular attention to the devastation we humans have caused. Ultimately, his pictures are about the light and beauty that remain. They are quiet, but the silence can be quite loud. He’s published over 40 books of photography, and if you’re a photographer, you’ve no doubt read Beauty in Photography and Why People Photograph.
Mr. Adams is currently being honored for his beautiful, thoughtful and important work at the National Gallery of Art with a major exhibition and accompanying book. Both are entitled “American Silence: The Photographs of Robert Adams.”
He kindly took the time to look at/read my book. Then he sat down and hand-wrote me a letter.
In it he said the book is both lovely and splendid. He also thanked me for “caring about us all, for getting down humbly enough to show us the saving beauty of grass” (he noted that the picture to which he was referring is on page 49).
And he also said this: “Your book goes hand in hand with Dorothea Lange’s To A Cabin, another book that rescued me in hard times. The children especially.”
Well, you can imagine that, by this time, I’m fairly well overcome.
I’m not familiar with To A Cabin, I’m kind of embarrassed to admit. But I found a reasonably priced copy and ordered it today. I can’t wait to see the pictures that Mr. Adams thought some of my images went hand in hand with. Even though I begin I Hope You Find What You’re Looking For with a quote by her, I have not delved into Lange’s oeuvre before. That’s about to change.
Rather than “kind regards” or “warmly,” Robert Adams closed his letter with the word “courage.”
Damn.
Some days you just get the best mail.
The image shown here is one of my favorites from Robert Adams' book Summer Nights, published in 1985.