Signs of the Times (2)

Western Proclamations

After unearthing vintage Midwestern signs (see earlier blog, “America’s Corn Belt Speaks for Itself“), I found earlier traces of homespun eloquence in the Far West.  Most of the photographs below were shot during my journeys by camper across ten States, from California to Colorado, and from Canada to New Mexico.  I had been working for Sunset Books to create their best-selling Ghost Towns of the West (1971/1976).

Photographs © William Carter 1970-2012

Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.

Inverness, California 2002

Please click on image for full-size version. To view more panoramic images, please visit this page on my website.

My wife Ulla and I were staying overnight with friends in Inverness, near the Pacific Coast in northern California.  We were in their lovely new guesthouse in a lush garden and forest setting of coast redwoods.  Waking early, I glanced out the window at a remarkable scene, like a fantasy, the way the rain had just stopped and light was filtering through the not-yet dissipated mist.  Still in my pajamas, I grabbed my large Linhof panoramic camera, tripod, film, light meter and ran outside.  I knew those conditions would not last, and I knew what the camera settings should be for that light.  It was chilly but I was warm with sweat.  I found the spot to set up but the ground was wet, so the tripod and I were both tending to sink in the mud.  I had to stabilize the tripod, or wait for in between moments when it was not sinking, because to get infinite depth of field even with Tri-X film required exposures of 1/15 of a second or slower, which would blur the image if the camera moved.  Meanwhile the light was changing, in and out, up and down, involving me in an intricate dance; just when it all came together and I pushed the cable release (gently to avoid causing movement), I heard Ulla open a window and in a bleary early voice asked what I thought I was doing out there in the cold and wet in my pajamas with mud all over me.  I shouted something terse and dismissive. Finally I finished several exposures and the light was fading and I trudged back dripping mud and thinking of coffee and a shower and wondering what I or Ulla would do about my soaked pajamas.

One of the frames turned out great. I scanned it and printed it 30 inches wide on an Epson printer, have sold a couple of prints, and 9 years later used it on page 293 of my retrospective book, Causes and Spirits.  Including it there was a late breaking decision because the book was mainly about people; altering the last chapter in order to include that and some other non-people images interrupted the printing cycle and caused the great publisher, Gerhard Steidl, to remain angry at me for about a year.

But the Linhof is still okay. Also the pajamas. Also Ulla.

Copyright statement: William Carter papers, © Stanford University Libraries. Click here for a detailed usage guide.