A Review of 'Edward Weston: The Last Years In Carmel' 

Since the early 1990s new editions featuring Edward Weston's work find their way onto the shelves in regular intervals of two to three years. While this is a commendable practice the quality of these monographs varies considerably. With that in mind, news of one more Weston book might not necessarily be good news. But here it is: subtitled 'The Last Years In Carmel', venturing out to illustrate the shift in the photographer's final period in life when factors from without and within began to undermine his personal and artistic prowess. In retrospect this period of his work is generally a short note to his major achievements - the modernist close ups of shells, vegetables, rocks and nudes - maybe because of the dark undertones, maybe because his work changed to a less radical more distant and open approach to his subjects. But the sculptor in Weston is still visible here even though a substantial number of images show a wider view - not 'just' the emotional detachments of detail representation that made him famous. The late Carmel images give us here a direct comparison of the apparent change in facing his subjects because now we see him backing up his camera from people as well as from rock and cypress - where he once got very close. 
A photographer's work is always a mirror of his state of mind, even for a Weston that tried for a long time to exclude any emotional involvement from his images. The years from 1941 onward were, as far as the surrounding conditions are concerned, increasingly problematic for the photographer. His marriage to Charis Wilson started to fall apart, the Second World War restricted life and working environment and his health started a slow unstoppable decline (he was stricken by Parkinson's disease). His landscapes might reflect some of these problems, but I think it is most obvious in the series of 'satires' he did around his house. While his mature photography was always (brutally) direct these staged settings still manage to upset and leave one more uncomfortable than his pictures of disintegrating leftovers. His landscapes on the other hand always contained a stark austerity, so I don't think that the Point Lobos images of his final years are much 'darker' than his previous work. The difference is mainly in subject approach not necessarily in expression.

The new book is beautifully designed - responsible for this is David Travis, curator of Photography at the Art Institute of Chicago. The images featured within are for the main part little known, but one will also find old acquaintances that have become part of photography's classic heritage. The reproductions are very good, printed with their overall size about one inch smaller compared to the actual 8x10" contacts. That way they don't appear to be squeezed in and have actual room to 'breathe' on the page. A lot of attention also seemed to have gone into the best possible translation from the silver gelatine original to its inked offspring while avoiding 'overinking' of the plates (Charis Wilson blamed the excessive use of black ink [not the subject matter] in former volumes for the dark expression of some of the images.) Also Travis' careful approach in choosing subdued colours for the cover and an appropriate typeface for essay and captions sets a quiet tone that leaves an unconscious (pleasant) impression of the editors stepping back in favour of the photographer's work. 
The source for the featured reproductions are Project Prints of various sources - there is some confusion however, because only the Center of Creative Photography is credited with the copyright while the plate checklist also lists the University of California and the Lane Collection as sources. These Project Prints are for some a constant embarrassment because of the 'obscure' authorship of the prints themselves. They were not printed by Edward Weston but by his sons Brett and Cole and Edward's last assistant Dody Thomson, because he was no longer able to. He supervised the process however (a wide term for sure) but the ways of expression through a print are certainly different from one photographer to another even disregarding individual accomplishments. However - being at safe distance from the auction and collector's market I think it is far better to have a good project print than to have nothing at all - even if there should be minor deviations in the deep blacks and middle tones. Those deviations becoming only obvious by comparing them to a Weston vintage print anyway while bearing in mind that very likely no two prints of the same negative even by an accomplished craftsman are absolutely identical. 

David Travis follows the final Carmel years of Weston with an extensive essay about Weston in his personal and historic environment and his creative output during those years. Because the photographer didn't leave a detailed personal account for this period (as he had with his daybooks up to 1934) any historian will have to deduce from the images themselves and other indirect sources to get to the photographer. Using this approach there is always the danger that the writer loses focus and that in the end we know more about the biographers state of mind than that of the biographed. Mr. Travis however stays on course and evokes with his elegant text poetry and poetic analogies to visualize Weston, sometimes with surprising jumps, like becoming a Japanese tea master for instance. This picture of artistic growth works rather well poetically though, even if I don't think that Weston ever was somebody that aspired to follow, imitate and finally succeed a master - not even Alfred Stieglitz.

All in all 'Edward Weston: The Last Years In Carmel' is a production that not only presents us little known photographs by Edward Weston but is also graceful example of book making itself. Highly recommended!

'Edward Weston: The Last Years In Carmel' (ISBN 0-86 559-192-X) is published by the Art Institute of Chicago and distributed by D.A.P. 

© Joerg Frankenberger 2001