The 'Lost' Photographs of Ansel Adams

THE END OF WORLD WAR II found Ansel Adams solidly established as one of the world's great photographers. The postwar years also signaled the beginning of his special relationship with Arizona Highways and a personal friendship with the magazine's editor, Raymond Carlson. That friendship ultimately produced a series of historic collaborations and led to a collection of original prints by the famous photographer, most unseen until this issue of the magazine.

"I have a far-flung reputation now which I am anxious to cash in on in a thoroughly dignified (and profitable) manner," the irrepressible Adams, tongue-in-cheek, wrote to his friend Carlson in the early 1950s, in a series of letters preserved by the conservators at the Ansel Adams Trust.

By that time, Adams was regularly featured on the pages of Arizona Highways, but despite his reputation as a sterling black-and-white craftsman, most of his contributions were in color. Adams' first photograph in the magazine was a two-page color spread of Monument Valley (above) in the March 1946 issue, which, probably not so coincidently, was Carlson's first issue back after a two-year tour in the Pacific Theater with the U.S. Army. Carlson's first stint with Arizona Highways began in 1938 and continued

for five years before it was interrupted by the war. Prior to departing for his military service, he helped to transform the magazine from a stodgy publication featuring a preponderance of material devoted to road-building and highway maintenance, with nods to the burgeoning popularity of motor tourism, into a prototype travel publication with an international reputation for fine writing and exceptional photography.

Adams, known by the mid-1940s for his bravura black-and-white photographic interpretations of the American landscape, had begun a flirtation with the newly emerging field of color photography.

The first practical color photography process was Kodachrome, introduced in the late 1930s. A short time after the film's debut, Arizona Highways published its first full-color landscape photograph, a picture of Red Rock Country near Sedona on the cover of its July 1939 issue. Although Highways stayed predominantly black and white for quite a few years after that, more and more color photographs began working their way into its pages. By 1946, the magazine had a growing reputation for publishing color photography, particularly photographs of the spectacular Arizona landscape. In December of that year, Arizona Highways made publishing history by producing the nation's first all-color consumer magazine issue. “Cactus, desert flowers, Indians, the Grand Canyon . . . people love it, and we give it to them with the best photography and color work in the world,” as Raymond Carlson described his formula for Arizona Highways' success to Tom Cooper, a former editor himself during the 1970s, and author of a history of the magazine.

Although Highways stayed predominantly black and white for quite a few years after that, more and more color photographs began working their way into its pages. By 1946, the magazine had a growing reputation for publishing color photography, particularly photographs of the spectacular Arizona landscape. In December of that year, Arizona Highways made publishing history by producing the nation's first all-color consumer magazine issue. “Cactus, desert flowers, Indians, the Grand Canyon . . . people love it, and we give it to them with the best photography and color work in the world,” as Raymond Carlson described his formula for Arizona Highways' success to Tom Cooper, a former editor himself during the 1970s, and author of a history of the magazine.

As involved as he was in the world of photography, particularly landscape photography, none of this was lost on Ansel Adams. We don't know whether it was Adams or Carlson who first initiated contact with the other, but we do know that fortunate circumstances brought the two parties together for that March 1946 issue and resulted in a hefty stack of entertaining letters. Carlson was well aware of Adams' growing international status, and had to feel good about landing the photographer for his first issue back at the magazine. Adams, too, must have appreciated the forum for his experiments with color photography, and continued to contribute his color efforts to Arizona Highways for the remainder of the decade. During that time, the ebullient Adams and the erudite Carlson, who knew talent when he saw it, developed a personal friendship to complement their mutually beneficial professional relationship. Together they started to explore ideas to feature Adams' work more prominently in the magazine.

Carlson was well aware of Adams' growing international status, and had to feel good about landing the photographer for his first issue back at the magazine. Adams, too, must have appreciated the forum for his experiments with color photography, and continued to contribute his color efforts to Arizona Highways for the remainder of the decade. During that time, the ebullient Adams and the erudite Carlson, who knew talent when he saw it, developed a personal friendship to complement their mutually beneficial professional relationship. Together they started to explore ideas to feature Adams' work more prominently in the magazine.

By the time Adams wrote the aforementioned tongue-in-cheek commercial declaration to Carlson, he was confident enough in his position with Arizona Highways to suggest a continuing series of features in his trademark black-and-white style. The stories Adams outlined included the Grand Canyon, Tombstone, Monument Valley, the cottonwoods of Tucson, Jerome, sunrise on the desert and some scenes outside the state's boundaries. Carlson wrote back to express his preference for Arizona subjects, and Adams responded with a proposal for a series of photographic portfolios, with writer Nancy Newhall, wife of photohistorian Beaumont Newhall, providing the text. The Newhall-Adams collaboration produced six stories, published in Arizona Highways between June 1952 and April 1954, covering Sunset Crater, Canyon de Chelly, the historic mission at Tumacacori, California's Death Valley, Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument and Mission San Xavier del Bac.

While working on these projects, Adams and Carlson maintained a steady stream of correspondence. Issues involving the reproduction quality of his photographs in the magazine were resolved by Adams working closely with his own engraver in San Francisco. Logistical challenges and practical travel considerations were addressed by U.S. mail. Adams wrote:

steady stream of correspondence. Issues involving the reproduction quality of his photographs in the magazine were resolved by Adams working closely with his own engraver in San Francisco. Logistical challenges and practical travel considerations were addressed by U.S. mail. Adams wrote: AT LAST!! Plans are made. Nancy has worked out her problems and I am getting mine solved! I am PREGNANT with ideas!!!! Maybe there will be a multiple birth!!! Luff to you and yours, -AA March 14, 1953 Adams tackled the planning of the features with his usual enthusiasm, eagerly anticipating the photographic opportunities the assignments would provide.

During the preproduction phase of his visit to Mission San Xavier, Adams displayed his excitement about the upcoming trip in a letter to Carlson. “We have just written Father Chinn of San Xavier for information on the appropriate time to work there (hoping for feast days and other ceremonials),” Adams wrote. “I am hoping we can get there in January and February —even in March—if that is not too late. And there are other things for the desert scene in general which would be helpful in winter. After all, I have never spent very much continuous time anywhere in the SW, excepting Santa Fe. The last trips have been depreciated by rather poor weather conditions and the effects are all too apparent in the bleak skies, etc. I am hoping that a month in ONE place will provide an exciting set of pictures!” Adams happily received the news of Carlson's print order and wrote back after an extended trip to the East Coast, "Now, I have been busy terribly busy-for several months. I have probably given you the impression that I have neglected you. Such is not the case! But I did desperately need this trip to the fountainhead of 'bizness.' I am suitably splashed with the spray of potential profits! I could not finish the 150 prints for you before I left. But they shall be finished very soon."

Adams always made a point of stopping in Phoenix to spend time with Carlson on his way to or from his assignments. As work on the projects proceeded, Adams, always the entrepreneur, suggested that Arizona Highways

purchase a collection of his photographs, to be used whenever and wherever the magazine chose. So, for example, when the magazine needed a Grand Canyon photograph, one of his images would be available.

Although Adams had a growing reputation as a fine-art photographer, that kind of work wouldn't support him until much later in his life. Like many commercial photographers, he scrambled to make a living and took advantage of every potential financial opportunity. According to the archived letters, Adams' bill to Arizona Highways for the 150 original, mounted photographs was $1,500.

Carlson agreed to the purchase. Buying the prints accomplished two things: It allowed him to get some money to Adams quickly to help finance his travels for the magazine, and it provided a ready supply of images for future issues. Adams was happy with the cash, of course, but was almost as pleased that he was saving the postage costs of shipping photographs back and forth between Arizona and his home in San Francisco.

Adams continued to work for Arizona Highways for much of the 1950s and remained a contributor and great fan of the magazine until his death in 1984. However, as the photographer gained more and more fame, the demands on his time produced by the accompanying acclaim started to diminish his active assignments for the magazine. Even so, he continued to provide images from his stock files throughout the rest of his life.

Carlson remained the editor of Arizona Highways until his retirement at age 65 in 1971. At that time, the magazine reached almost a half-million subscribers around the world each month. Highways had become a publishing phenomenon under his guidance, and to honor his achievements, he was

awarded the title of editor emeritus. The visionary editor died after a long illness in 1983, separated in death by just one year from his friend Ansel Adams.

The prints Adams sold to the magazine languished in storage, half-forgotten. A few years ago, they were rediscovered on a dusty bottom shelf in the magazine's vault. The historic images, all affixed to mount boards, were stacked one atop the other with no protection at all—just mounted photographs in a pile, an archivist's nightmare. Fortunately, however, the prints were in good shape, probably because over the years they were moved and handled infrequently.

Since their rediscovery, we've cataloged and packaged each print in archival sleeves. Of the original 150 prints, 108 remain. Nothing is known about the others, but it is most likely they were sent back to Adams after publication, our current policy, and also a common procedure during the 1950s.

Soon the photographs will find a new home at the Center for Creative Photography in Tucson, as part of the Arizona Highways collection. There, the historic prints will be preserved as part of the legacy of a warm friendship and collaboration between the renowned photographer and Arizona Highways Editor Raymond Carlson.

Many of the prints in this historic collection are being reproduced in this issue for the first time. Al