REFLECTIONS ©1973

CLICK ON IMAGE FOR LARGER VIEW

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This image has drawn many positive comments over the decades and a favorable number hang in the establishments of private and corporate collectors across the land.

When hiking through the forest, I have always been observant about my surroundings and my eyes are quick to pick up on new concepts. This image was an easy one to miss, but the slight ripples in the mountain pond gave it away and I took advantage of it.

I first noted the old cabin on the hill, but the reflection in the pond brought my equipment out in a hurry. Without the ripples, it was just a rather ordinary image. Also note that it is presented upside down. It is also sepia toned which adds to the subject matter and long life of the print.

I have mentioned more than once in some of my essays that I have never used photography galleries and for a number of good reasons which I will not dwell on here. But this is an exceptional case. Several years ago, my wife and I were visiting galleries in Santa Fe. This is the second largest fine art city in the country I am told and it is well worth the walk. It also has several highly rated photography galleries, and I decided that while my wife visited her galleries, I would check out several of the photography establishments just to see how they might have changed over the years.

The first galley I selected was in the basement of an old hotel. It had some fine work but most of the images that were hanging were printed by someone other than the photography who made the original negative. Not a good start! After a brief chat with the owner I asked if she would like to see several pieces of my art. I just wanted to see what her reaction would be. Reflections just happened to be one of the three or four that I had with me ,and it was double matted to about 27 x 29 inches. It was a beautiful vintage image.

She quickly looked at the first three and the focused on the cabin and pond. He ecomment went like this: "I can't hang that on my wall. My customers would think it is out of focus." Go figure...

I cannot let the second gallery go by without also relating that experience. Pat and I both walked through that one and it was one of the first photography galleries that was established back in the early seventies. We spent a good twenty minutes scanning the images. Not once did the man in charge notice our presence. He was reading a book or a magazine, and he never looked up or said a word. I asked myself, is this a gallery that I want to represent me? Absolutely not! I have never had these sorts of experiences with a Multi-media gallery.

EFFIE THE MOUNTAIN WOMAN

Effie the Mountain Woman ©1972

My encounter with Effie came about quite by chance. Reverend Hatter, who was a local Mennonite preacher in the small community of Love had told me about her and said he would take me over for a brief visit. He was familiar with my documentary and thought that Effie would welcome our visit. He was also well aware that she lived alone and made it a point to see that her basic needs were taken care of.

Effie lived alone in a small mountain cabin a half mile or so up a nearby ridge. I did not know it at the time, but she was nearly blind, and had to use a stick to get around. Still, she was a tough old lady who spoke her piece.

As we approached her place, I could see her sitting on her front porch rocking away in a chair. My gut instinct told me this would be one of the images I wanted, so I started unpacking my tripod and camera as Rev Hatter and I hiked up the trail, which was not easy.

I was maybe twenty feet from the house when I stopped, jammed the tripod into the ground, and made several rapid exposures. After my introduction, I made another series of images. This time I was able to move in a bit closer and capture the true character of her face. I was right; that was my photography session for the day. When I told her that I had made the first image from a distance she just laughed and kidded me about why anyone would want to have a picture of an old woman. This was a line that I had experienced before. I told her that her face had lots of character. And I was dead serious.

One evening, several years following this visit, I was sitting around a campfire enjoying good tales and fellowship with a group of Mennonite friends who lived in that same general area. Suddenly there was a sudden commotion in the distance, and several of those in the group took off in a pickup truck to see what was going on up the road. I knew nothing at the time except that it involved Effie. About an hour later the group returned with everyone laughing and kidding each other about what had transpired up at Effie’s place. Apparently, a neighbor had heard her yelling in the distance and sent for help. Knowing her condition, everyone expected the worst.

What had happened was that some of her chickens and a small pig had escaped from their pen. Despite her near blindness and the advancing darkness, she took off down through the woods and brush after them. I’m not sure how, but she somehow managed to get hung up real good in a wire fence that was supposed to keep the livestock in. My friends said she was completely stuck and was mad as a wet hen. Fortunately, the only thing that was affected was her dignity.

It wasn’t too long after this incident when the wood stove in her house backfired during the night and when the neighbors checked on her she was gone. They think she died of smoke inhalation during her sleep. There was no damage to the house.

TENNESSEE MULE ©1974

Simon Ward and the Tennessee Mule


This is one of those rare circumstances when a concept can suddenly appear out of nowhere.

I was returning from an art show in Nashville, Tennessee when I decided to take a back road from Knoxville to Kingsport. It was old US Rt 11W. It sort of reminds you of Historic Rt 66 out west with all the old and dilapidated motels and filling stations that dot the landscape. Relics of the past I call them. Most of my finest images have been discovered along these old trails and back-woods byways.

I had just passed through the town of Surgoinsville in my 72-cargo van when I happened to glance over my left shoulder and spotted an old fellow and a mule going through a fresh field of tobacco. He was using an old wooden harrow weighted down with several good size river jacks to make the blade penetrate the soil. This was a sight to behold, as one large mule appeared to be dragging both man and machine through the clod-filled field.
I was caught totally by surprise, but I had my camera pack in the back of the truck and decided to take a chance and capture this image before it passed into oblivion.

I pulled off the road, donned my forty-pound camera pack and quickly climbed over the remains of a fence as the farmer and mule disappeared over the distant crest of the hill. I figured that when he made the next pass, I would be set up and ready to capture this image for posterity. It happened just as I had planned, and I made a couple of precisely timed exposures before the operation came to a halt. Now, I would have to explain to this man why I was standing in the middle of his field with a heavy tripod and camera aimed in his direction.

I did not have my dog Rufus with me on this trip, but I quickly introduced myself and told him exactly what I was doing. Simon Ward was his name, and he just shook his head and chuckled over the whole sequence of events. Bottom line, he was flattered that I would want to photograph his mule Kate.

Simon was quite a character. He probably didn’t weight more than a hundred and twenty pounds with all his clothes on. But he sure could handle that great Tennessee Mule.

We chatted and he told me all about Kate and how he had traded a watch for her some year’s back. She was 22 years old and huge. The interesting thing was that the watch he traded for Kate had been lost for some time before he happened to spot it one day lying out in a field. It still worked, so he traded it for Kate. “Been together ever since” he said.

It’s a good thing I grabbed a quick bite on the road, because Simon would not hear of me leaving before I hiked over the hill with him to see his second mule Meg. He sure was proud of those two mules. I ended up spending most of the afternoon talking about mules and other things relating to farming, fishing and hunting. One thing Simon had plenty of was time and good tales. He also had a good listener. It was a hot afternoon in June 1974 as we sat and passed the time of day under a large oak tree.

Before we parted company Simon insisted that I photograph both mules. This time I was able to capture all three of them, as they stood high off the ground in grand style.


In November 2003, I received a totally unexpected e-mail from a lady whose address was RIDGERUNNER. Her name was Lynn Ward, and she had tracked me down on the Internet to learn a little more about two images that she had uncovered in her grandfather’s possessions. My name was stamped on the back, and she just had the urge to track the artist down.

As I read her letter she explained, “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Papaw died 08-15-97. The doctors told him he had leukemia in 1987 and he never went back to the doctor again, but he lived for another ten good years after that. He raised me since I was two, and I was one year old when you took that picture back in 1974.”

I was deeply touched by the fact that someone would go to the trouble to track me down after all these years and ask me if I was really the one who had made those images. My goodness, that was thirty-five years ago.

RUNNING WATER 2

CRABTREE FALLS

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Near Montebello, VA 1976

While we are on the subject of waterfalls, I will share this image of the highest cascade drop east of the Mississippi. What a day hike this is, and just when you think you reach the top, there is yet another fall. It is an altitude gain of about 1500 feet. There used to be a sign at the top warning you not to step out onto the rocks.

From past experience, I can tell you that it would mean almost instant death. Those rocks are covered with slippery growth, and once you slip you are gone.

The exposure for this 2 1/4 film image (Ektachrome 64) was about one second at f22.

RUNNING WATER

Big Tumbling Creek Falls. Clinch River Valley SW Virginia ©1994

I hear this question so many times: "how do you get that fuzzy soft look to the water?" Very simple.

A tripod is a must. And a slow shudder speed is equally important. A one or two second exposure will do the trick. Even a half second will get you there. This is one time when a blur is acceptable.

If you wish to go to the other extreme and stop every droplet in mid air use a fast shutter speed. Start with about 1/200 and go up from there; bright lighting will get you an even faster exposure. At this speed you can hand hold the camera.

jj

OLD LADY IN CAR

OLD LADY IN CAR ©1979

It was a hot sweltering day in July when I pulled into an antique auto show in Bridgewater, Virginia. This small burg is located near Harrisonburg in the Shenandoah Valley.

I spotted Mrs. Williams sitting in a vintage motorcar. Actually, I spotted her through an open window in the car next to hers. I thought her face was beautiful, and I loved the way she was framed behind two cars. She seemed so far away in a dream world of her own.

The weather was so hot and humid that I had left my camera pack in the trunk of the car so I had to make a quick hike back and pick up my gear. Have you ever noticed how quick people are to notice someone setting up a tripod and camera? In this case, in order not to attract the subject's attention, I set up and framed my image through the open windows of the car that was parked next to hers. I figured I had better make this fast because I had already attracted the attention of some of the car buffs.

In an effort to protect my image, I pretended I was photographing something else. Inwardly, I just knew she was going to see the growing crowd and change her marvelous expression. Finally, after my camera was in place, I was able to capture the concept just as I hoped it would be. After I packed my gear away, I walked over to her car and informed her of what I had done because I needed her name and her assurance that she did not object. I also wished to thank her for holding still despite the commotion. At that point I became aware that she was totally blind and had never noticed.

The only thing she wondered about was why anyone would want to make a photograph of an old

woman. I had an easy answer for that comment. I told her that she would make a beautiful image sitting in that old car.

This image has taken it's share of awards including a grand prize in a National Nostalgia Contest put on by the Professional Photographers of America. It is hard to believe that this took place thirty years ago to the month.

FROM THE APPALACHIAN PORTFOLIO

THE LAST CHORD ©1970

I was hiking the Blue Ridge Mountains during a chilly day in March when I ran across the remains of an old mountain church. The roof had deteriorated to the point where it was collapsing into the building. There were maybe a half dozen pews still remaining, and it was as if the congregation just got up and walked away to let the place die of old age. But it was the organ that caught my eye, and I made this image without further hesitation. I later made a second trip back to check it out again but this image has always been one of my favorites. It deserves the name I gave it.

At the time, this was a remote hollow along a small stream, but as the years have passed, the place was discovered and there are now numerous homes and cabins dotting the hillside along the North Fork of the Tye River.