I WAS IN A DARKROOM WITH ANSEL ADAMS

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For five years, Alan Ross worked as an assistant to world- renowned photographer Ansel Adams, creating prints in the darkroom and traveling into the field with the man he knew as both a teacher and a friend. Inside, he explains what life was like as a student of one of the greatest landscape pho- tographers of all time. INTERVIEW BY KELLY VAUGHN KRAMER PHOTOGRAPHS PROVIDED BY ALAN ROSS

Featured in the May 2014 Issue of Arizona Highways

Ansel Adams (left) and Alan Ross photograph Mission San Xavier del Bac near Tucson in 1975. Ross had begun working as Adams' full-time assistant in 1974.
Ansel Adams (left) and Alan Ross photograph Mission San Xavier del Bac near Tucson in 1975. Ross had begun working as Adams' full-time assistant in 1974.
BY: Kelly Vaughn Kramer

For five years, Alan Ross worked as an assistant to world-renowned photographer Ansel Adams, creating prints in the darkroom and traveling into the field with the man he knew as both a teacher and a friend. Here, in his own words, he explains what life was like as a student of one of the greatest landscape photographers of all time.

KVK: How long did you work as Ansel Adams' assistant? AR: I was full time with Ansel in Carmel, California, for five years. Prior to that, I had assisted him during a few workshops in Yosemite [National Park]. During my tenure as his assistant, he liked the way I was making his Yosemite Special Edition prints, so he asked me to continue, even after I began my own advertising-photography business. I've been making those prints of his negatives for more than 38 years.

KVK: Where did you spend more time - in the darkroom or in the field? AR: Ansel was 72 when I started working with him, and although he had a lot of energy, he was slowing down - physically, but not mentally. We did a lot of darkroom work. I started working for him in August 1974, and shortly afterward, he started making plans for what would be his final portfolio-set of prints, Portfolio Seven. He had had a longtime close relationship with Polaroid Corp., and because of that, he wanted to include an original, out-of-the-camera blackand-white Polaroid print in each copy, which was the impetus for us to spend a lot of time in the field over the next year and a half. It was wonderful to be out in the field looking for art with him, "The process was always an artistic expression of dodging and burning. He used a metronome to count seconds and didn't even own a timer. He counted the exposure for everything he did in the darkroom. Seeing how smoothly everything moved was like watching a ballet."

but Ansel did spend a lot of time in the darkroom. His three favorite activities were printing ... being on the telephone talking to photographers, politicians and environmentalists ... and being on the typewriter writing to photographers, politicians and environmentalists.

KVK: Would you consider him more of a scientist or an artist in the darkroom? AR: Absolutely an artist. Ansel's notoriety as a technician hasn't been blown out of proportion, but it has been misunderstood. He started out in life intending to be a concert pianist. When he decided to commit his life to photography, he brought with it a musician's discipline. He didn't want to go out on stage and hit a wrong note, so he practiced and practiced his technique, just like playing scales, but he didn't have any interest in technique for its own sake. He just didn't want to blow it. I really like expressing that about Ansel. He didn't have a passionate streak for the technical aspects of photography; he just wanted to be good enough to produce the image he had visualized in his mind. Seeing how smoothly everything moved was like watching a ballet. Ansel was totally in control of how much light was given to every part of the paper.

KVK: Did you learn any darkroom tricks that were unique to Adams? AR: I'm not sure how much I learned that was unique to Ansel, but being in the darkroom and watching him work was amazing. I never saw him make a straight print just expose the paper to record the negative. The process was always an artistic expression of dodging and burning. He used a metronome to count seconds and didn't even own a timer. He counted the exposure for everything he did in the darkroom.

KVK: Given the photographic age in which Adams emerged, how do you think he would have felt about today's digital age? AR: He would have loved the digital age. I'm certain of it.

KVK: Was he playful in the darkroom, or strictly business? AR: He had an enormous sense of humor and was a delight to be around. He loved telling corny jokes and shaggy-dog stories. Even if he told something for the seventh time, it was still funny. In the darkroom, my job was to develop. One day, I was at the sink, running 16x20 prints through the developer, and Ansel was cleaning up. He decided to push the garbage down into the can with his foot. He lost his balance, and he and the garbage were flat-out on the floor. He was surrounded by wet paper and developer containers, but he was laughing to beat the band. He knew he was an important figure, but he never lost the ability to laugh at himself.

KVK: Did he like the darkroom process and the possibilities it afforded, or was he happier in the field? AR: There was no conflict there at all - just different efforts. He did love getting out into the field and was a very hard worker. He had no concept of days off or vacations. KVK: How did he work a photo shoot? Was he calculating in terms of scouting locations, etc., or was he more flexible? AR: Ansel went wherever the wind took him. He had hunches as to what places might be of interest, but he had a completely unique vision. We'd drive down the road, and I'd try to do the driving so he could look out the window. He'd tell me to slow down or stop, and then he'd get out. I couldn't figure out what he was looking at, but he'd frame something. We'd get the gear out, and in a few minutes we had this great Polaroid.

KVK: What did he expect from you on a photo shoot?

AR: I schlepped the gear, made sure the shutter on his camera was cocked ... basically, anything he needed. It was a typical assisting gig.

KVK: What about the teaching aspect of the relationship?

AR: He was incredibly supportive. After I'd been with him for five years, I'd gotten married and decided it was time for me and my new bride to go and carve out our own lives. I decided to pick up advertising photography again, and he was really supportive - he knew what that was like. There wasn't a critical edge to the man.

KVK: Would he ask for your input, your take on certain shots?

AR: He was open to various things - mostly locations I suggested. When we were in California, I was a little more familiar with certain places. I knew of a really neat cemetery I had photographed when I was in college, and I took him there and he made a beautiful shot. He photographed several things that I had photographed before because he liked something I had seen, but I never made technical suggestions. He was 100 percent in control.

KVK: What did you guys eat when you were on the road? Did you pack your own snacks?

AR: We ate out a lot. Ansel had a broad palate, but we didn't pack our own food, save for the occasional snack. We always ate breakfast, lunch and dinner out on the road. He loved hamburgers.

KVK: What type of gear did you take out into the field?

AR: Everything. Ansel tended to take everything with him - I have photographs of him loading up the car in the 1930s and '40s. He didn't really have a favorite lens or anything, but he used an incredible mixed bag of gear. In the late '50s, Hasselblad set him up with a nice kit of bodies and lenses. He liked it, and they kept him well up to date. But the cameras were always just tools, just what was best for the job.

KVK: What do you recall of being in Arizona with Adams?

AR: I have a neat portrait of the two of us in front of [Mission] San Xavier del Bac. John Schaefer established the Center for Creative Photography at the University of Arizona, and his first acquisition was Ansel's archives. I met Schaefer in 1974, and we're still friends. The center was a big deal, and we had a couple of meetings in Tucson.

KVK: If you could have taken Adams anywhere in Arizona to make a photograph, where would you have gone?

AR: Certainly the Four Corners area. Monument Valley. I believe that Ansel made some photographs near the goosenecks of the San Juan River. He loved that area and loved the Navajo and Hopi cultures. His home was full of Southwestern artifacts and pots and kachinas and rugs.

KVK: Given his notoriety, it seems Adams could have afforded several homes. Did he care about money and fame?

AR: I think he was embarrassed by it, more than anything else. He was a hardworking photographer. When he decided to get into photography as a business in 1930, the first thing he did was put the word out that he was available for architecture shoots, portraits, anything he could get paid to do. I don't think Ansel was ever strapped, but he was always minding his pennies. He drove a used Ford LTD, and when he took it to the shop one day, he poked around the dealership and came home with a used Cadillac. His darkroom didn't have the best of anything. When money started to come in, he was very happy that he didn't have to worry, but the most he ever made for one of his own 16x20 prints was $800. After he stopped printing himself, photo galleries and dealers garnered much more, but he never saw that. In terms of notoriety, he knew he was famous and it helped him. He had relationships with people like presidents Carter and Ford, and he worked with them on environmental issues, but he always kept himself listed in the phone book.

KVK: What do you miss most about Ansel Adams?

AR: I miss his laugh. He was just a wonderful, wonderful person to be around. AH For more information about Alan Ross, visit his website at www.alanrossphotography.com. The Center for Creative Photography, which houses Ansel Adams' archives, is located at 1030 N. Olive Road in Tucson. For more information, call 520-621-7968 or visit www.creativephotography.org.