Ansel Adams, a Gentle and Generous Man

By Jim Hughes

In response to Mike's recent post about The Portfolios of Ansel Adams, Carsten Bockermann commented: "I bought The Portfolios of Ansel Adams on my first visit to the U.S. It was back in 1982, I was 16 at the time. The lady in a little bookstore in Carmel said 'Oh, that's too bad, you just missed Mr. Adams. He left a few minutes ago and went to the barber shop.' Needless to say, I found out where the barber shop was and got my copy signed right there, in the barber's chair."

I first met Ansel many years ago, at his home in Carmel, an unimposing structure at the end of a winding path leading to a bluff overlooking the Pacific. The place was not easy to find, but Maggie Weston, whose gallery I had just visited, had given me excellent directions. I wanted to interview Ansel for a piece I was writing on the intersection of art and commerce in photography, and he had graciously agreed.

In the midst of our conversation, my tape already spinning, I heard a chime. I looked toward the front door to see two small figures silhouetted against the wavy glass. Ansel answered the door himself. A middle-aged couple, tourists recently arrived from Japan, I soon learned, stood in the doorway. They wore broad grins. The man held a copy of Ansel's latest book.

"Autograph, please," the man said, handing the book to its famous author.

"Of course, of course," Ansel responded in a gentle voice that belied his craggy, weathered visage. "Please come in. You are welcome in my home."

It was clear that Ansel had not expected more visitors, but neither did he seem to feel the least bit put upon by their unannounced arrival. He asked them to spell their names, slowly please, then carefully wrote a personalized inscription, complete with a flourish, in their book. They bowed. He bowed. I even bowed. Then the man pulled out a snapshot camera and photographed his wife with Ansel Adams, the world's most famous photographer. She in turn photographed her husband with Ansel. Finally, they handed me the camera and I photographed all three, arm in arm, posing in front of Ansel's magnificent fireplace, beneath a huge antique gong that hung suspended above the fireplace.

With another kind of flourish, Ansel gave the gong a rap with a four-foot padded mallet, and the house reverberated with ancient tones. I imagined that even the whales migrating just offshore must have heard that deep, booming sound. More smiling and bowing followed. More unspoken communication between disparate cultures.

Finally, Ansel motioned his new friends, myself included, toward the grand piano in an ell just off the living room. He sat down to play, something short and sweet. I don't remember what the piece was. But if it wasn't Mozart, it should have been.

Jim
(Inset photograph by Nancy Newhall)

Send this post to a friend

Note: Links in this post may be to our affiliates; sales through affiliate links may benefit this site. More...
Original contents copyright 2010 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.

Featured Comment by R. Edelman: "In 1983 I took a weekend trip to Carmel from San Francisco. While I was walking in Carmel, a Cadillac pulled up to the curb and parked. I figured that it had to be Ansel Adams' car, as the license plate read: 'Zone V.' A young man was driving and Ansel Adams was the passenger. After Mr. Adams got out of the car, I walked up to him and said: 'Mr. Adams, your photography has given me great pleasure over the years.' Well, he acted as if he had never received a compliment before! He smiled, grabbed my hand and shook it, and thanked me. What a gentleman!"

Featured Comment by Nancy Ori: "I think that I know Jim from many years ago. Let me know if that is true. My memory seems to be so full of so many things that stuff seems to get pushed to the back somehow.

"Anyway, nice story.

"I visited with Ansel many times at the Carmel house...usually with a cocktail in hand...he loved his cocktails too. I was a teaching assistant at his workshop series for eight seasons, probably some of the most important and memorable formative years for me as a young photographer.

"I have had a lifetime now as a professional photographer and teach all over the place. I try to always bring forth what I learned at Ansel's workshops...patience, sharing, looking, thinking, caring.

"In my experience, he was like a Santa Claus. You just wanted to hug him...which he was not opposed to. He was truly larger than life...being a big person didn't hurt either. But it was his energy that was so impressive. Granted, when I knew him in the late '70s he had already been discovered and had a lot of people around him to help with everything, but he had so much energy and excitement for his craft.

"I try to think about and draw inspiration from my times spent standing next to him on Glacier Point in Yosemite. What an awesome view and experience. There will always be great photographers coming along but no one like Ansel."

Comments

[Miserere]

Damn, I love a good story... :-)

[Michael Houghton]

Jim, I wonder if for those middle-aged Japanese tourists Adams represented another kind of understanding, after his careful and caring work on Born Free And Equal?

[Christopher Lane]

Hi Jim,

My father was a professional photographer and I grew up in a studio. He never turned down a willing student and taught photography for years. Nevertheless, Ansel Adams is the reason that I take photographs today. Thank you for this appreciation.

Chris Lane

[Neil (the Wheel) Clarkson]

We can all ways use a lesson in the gentlemanly arts, including patience and graciousness. Thanks for the instructions, both of you.

-Neil

[Mike Nyman]

Beautiful story that made me a little bit teary eyed, and a wonderful photo to go with it. Sounds like Ansel Adams is an exception to the rule, "Never meet your heroes."

[Rod S.]

Jim, your story captured a beautiful moment. Thank you for sharing it.

Do they still make gentlemen like Ansel Adams? Or rather, are we, in our busy world, capable of such gracious behaviour? Food for thought.

[Michael Cytrynowicz]

Jim, beautiful note - thanks.

[Mr. Magoo]

Wow, what a difference between the reactions of Mr. Adams and Mr. Cartier-Bresson (in his case, going postal on a photographer that snapped his pic, as described on the website a few weeks ago).

[Jordan]

Fantastic story. If I recall correctly, Adams was a classical pianist of considerable talent, and that was his intended career path before photography got in the way.

[Al Marsh]

And my story is quite different. He came to a gallery in Washington, D.C., probably in 1979, '80, or '81. I went to meet him. The crowd was very small, then, I was it. He was escorted to me by the owner of the gallery. We shook hands and I literally stood in awe, not uttering a word as we shook hands. "I am Ansel Adams," he said. "I know," I answered. The gallery owner turned to Adams and said, "And you said they wouldn't know you." They turned and walked away. I recovered a few seconds later. It was worth it, a poor performance by me, but one I hope he took as sincere respect.

[Will]

Adams' gentle and lovely personality comes through in his Autobiography. I hear tell that if you click through from here to Amazon on your way to buy it, TOP benefits.

[Rana]

What a wonderful story. :)

[MJFerron]

I've been thumbing through Ansel's book "The Negative" last few weeks as I still shoot some B&W film trying to absorb a fraction of what this man mastered. Knowing he was a gentleman and all around good guy can't help but add my respect to his legacy. I can almost here him talk as I read. As mentioned above my feelings towards Mr. Bresson's total hissy fit over having his photo snapped does the opposite for me regarding his legacy. When I see one of his photos I tend now to picture a grouchy old crank.

[Sam Murphy]

Great tale Jim, a nice counter-point to Mike's past comments on not meeting your heros as they'll only disappoint!

[Ken Tanaka]

A wonderful personal anecdote of your encounter with Ansel, Jim. And yours, too, R. Edelman and Al Marsh! A nice change of pace, and back to base, from the immediately previous threads.

[Player]

Mr. Adams mastered "The Golden Rule" too. Lovely story, thanks for sharing.

[Steve Smith]

I tend now to picture a grouchy old crank.

Or a cranky old grouch?

[Andy Hayter]

Jim,

Wow! Thanks for sharing that great moment with us. While reading my mind created the setting and how wonderful that time must have been. Makes me think that Ansel Adams view of the world as a beautiful place did not end with the camera, but was the entire essence of the man.

Andy

[Peter Hovmand]

Thanks, makes my heart beat a little bit faster :)
It is my experience that most successful photographers are very nice people. This story adds a great deal to my point :)

[John MacKechnie]

What a great place TOP is. Thank you so much, everyone, for making this a special place, not just to kill time, but to think and grow.

[David Dyer-Bennet]

Love the first-hand stories.

Adams was important to me, even without seeing any of his prints in my formative years. I learned huge amounts from his basic photo series, and second the recommendation for his Autobiography. I'll add one for Examples, in which he reproduces 40 of his photos (including famous ones) and writes as much as he remembers about the thought process he went through in shooting, developing, and printing them.

I'm now annoyed at not having bought any prints from him, and not having worked harder to manage to meet him.

[Mike Johnston]

"I'm now annoyed at not having bought any prints from him, and not having worked harder to manage to meet him."

You think that's bad, in the late '90s I met one of the photographers I admire, Leonard Freed, when he was trying to sell leftover copies of all his books at the photo show in New York. I didn't have the money to buy the books, which he was selling for very reasonable prices ($70-150) compared to what one would have to pay for them on the open market. We talked for quite some time, and he invited me to come visit him at his house in upstate New York. I was pleased and honored.

I always "meant to." But of course I didn't. And then he died, in 2006. Opportunity lost forever....

Mike