Edward Weston

[Kevin J. Kolosky]

Yeah, I have read some of it. But I want to hear from a guy that "hung around" with him.

I have read Ruth Berhard's books. She claims to have been a good friend of Weston's but she never mentions (that I recall) having an intimate relationship with him.

[Jim Jones]

On page 99 of Ruth Bernhard: Between Art and Life by Margaretta K. Mitchell, Bernhard suggests an intense artistic, but not physical, relationship.

[Merg Ross]

An earlier thread put me on the spot with a question about Edward Weston and what kind of man he was. I am not qualified to answer the question in totality. When I met Edward I was in the first decade of my life and he was living his last. What I know of the intervening decades has been learned from those who were close to him, including three of his sons, or those who have written of him with honesty and integrity. He was not a private man, an unlikely role for one who supported his art by a steady stream of persons seeking portraits. He was a man with a passion for life, art, women, music, theater, dance, and parties that lasted to the early morning hours, sometimes clad in borrowed woman's clothes easily fitting his five-foot-six inch frame.

My first memory of Edward Weston was in 1948 when he spent the night at our home in Berkeley. It was at the end of a ten day photography trip to Death Valley accompanied by his assistant Dody Warren and my parents. My father, a photographer, had befriended Edward in 1938 and suggested the trip, offering to escort the foursome in the family's new Mercury woodie station wagon --- it was Edward's last road trip with a camera and the occasion of his last attempts at color. A cabin in Rhyolite was rented for five dollars a week. From its surrounds, Edward made 8x10 Ektachrome and Kodachrome transparencies while my father and Dody recorded their respective vision with 8x10 and 5x7 view cameras. My mother, accustomed to being outnumbered by photographers, observed the desert flora and fauna while adding to her ever-growing collection of small rocks.

The following year, 1949, was the beginning of our frequent family pilgrimages to visit Edward at Wildcat Hill. It was also the year we met Brett, not long returned from his Guggenheim project along the East Coast. I was eight years old, and the memories and impressions of a decade of visits to Wildcat are as clear and poignant as if a yesterday occurrence --- the rustic abode with skylights and view to the distant Pacific Ocean, the pervasive odor of Edward's dozen-plus cats, a few 8x10 prints on the rough board and batten walls, Brett's wood sculptures on the mantle and the secretary desk from which Edward had penned his Daybooks --- and of course the cabinets filled with prints, the viewing of which was always the highlight of our visits.

From the time I met Edward, until his death a decade later, I witnessed the effects of Parkinson's disease as his health steadily deteriorated. Surprisingly, those close to him on a daily basis never heard him complain of his condition. So by circumstance, the Edward that I knew was not the vigorous person of the past, his voice was but a whisper and his body would not obey his commands. However, and this is so very important to my knowing Edward and our relationship --- his mind and his vision were as sharp and perceptive as his earlier days --- Parkinson's could not deprive him of those attributes.

By the time I was ten years old I had probably viewed a thousand EW prints, sitting on a barstool under the skylight of his studio. I was mesmerized by what I was seeing, why at such a young age I have never understood. For my birthday that year my grandmother gave me a cardboard box- camera and after periods of frustration with its limitations, my father let me use his 4x5 camera when I was twelve --- the results transformed my life --- I was hooked on photography and never looked back!

On a visit to Edward's when I was fifteen I showed him some of my photographs --- about twenty 4x5 contact prints. He sat in his captain's chair at the big table under the skylight slowly viewing the prints, mysteriously placing them in two piles. In a barely audible whisper, pointing to the smaller pile he said, "these I like" and then turned to me and softly uttered "photography is in good hands". Some moments in life are never forgotten!

The following year my father, Brett and I made one of our many winter photo trips to Mono Lake. We returned to Berkeley late in the evening and the following morning Brett called from the phone outside my bedroom to check on his father. The man whose influence and friendship was directly responsible for my life in photography had died an hour earlier, New Year's Day, 1958.

Edward was always approachable; he liked people regardless of status or profession, and had a steady parade of visitors --- during the years of our visits I met Morley Baer and Wynn Bullock when they came to share their work with Edward. They were treated to the same reviews as I was --- Edward never made negative comments or suggestions when viewing work, only an occasional remark --- but he let you know if he was moved or not.

I would suggest being very careful when believing what has been written about Edward Weston or appears on forums such as this. There are some qualified sources, however unfortunately very few persons are left to correct any distortions or untruths that sometimes appear. I have two photographer friends who knew Edward, one in the 1930's --- both are nonagenarians and between us we do our best to correct the inevitable falsehoods relating to the years of photography in which we have been actively engaged. When the watchdogs are gone, fiction has a way of becoming fact!

[jb7]

Thank you Merg-

[Thom Bennett]

Very generous of you Merg to share your experiences with Edward Weston.

[TXFZ1]

Thanks for sharing, these post are priceless.

David

[Alan Curtis]

Merg
Thank you for your input. Your collection of memories and thoughts are much better than any of us searching the web for facts about EW. "If it is on the web it must be true." Even well intended books contain a lot of misinformation.

[DennisD]

Merg,
Wonderful recollections ! Thank you for sharing and for your personal thoughts.
You were indeed fortunate to have ongoing access into Edward Weston's life at your young age.

Clearly those experiences and your association, in general, with the Westons influenced your life in a very deep and meaningful way.

With appreciation,

Dennis

[Mark Sampson]

Thank you, Mr.Ross. We are lucky that you will share your memories with us.

[Andrew O'Neill]

That was wonderful. Thank you, sir!