I went on many photographic expeditions with Dad when I was younger. We explored and searched together for the meaningful things in our world. I looked and looked, imagining I captured greatness with an occasional snap. But Dad, oh my…he didn’t just see things, he unlocked their essence. He made magic with his lens. He penetrated the souls of his subjects, perceiving at a glance the gentleness and curiosity of a stranger, or perhaps their arrogance and pride.
Good photographers may capture great images, but great photographers free them. Dad was like that. He always claimed he was a bad portrait photographer – “I don’t know how to pose or coax people to look a certain way.”
The truth is, the only thing he lacked was a knack for the contrived and artificial in photography. What he had was an uncommon vision of reality. And he was dangerous when he pointed his camera at you.
Snap! – all your secrets were set free for the world to see. And somehow, he always presented the truth about you with dignity.