Today a good friend and mentor passed away. A number of you will know him.
Richard (Dick) Poole, my friend and mentor of some 20 years, died in his sleep yesterday morning after a battle with cancer. Like the late Brian Curtis, he was one of the grand old men of New Zealand photography, one of those people you take for granted, until their time has passed. So I want to take some time, to take some time to remember.
I remember the day I first met you, a tall, lanky, balding man in a brown jersey with a bushy beard fierce eyes and an uncompromising attitude. For years I marvelled at the sensitivity of the portraits you made, at your passion for photographing women beautifully and your unremitting concern for craft. I marvelled at the way you made light sing and dance and the way you made it look so easy, the sign of a true master.
I remember the day you took me into the Ilam Gardens and taught me to see light, and how in the space of 20 minutes you taught me to see that light in the field could be read in terms of studio lighting, and vice-versa. In doing so, you moved my photography forward immeasurably.
I remember the day, standing on the shores of Lake Pukaki, when you taught me the two-cigarette method. You never said anything much that day, but by then I had learned to read the lessons contained in your silences and on that day I learned that a good landscape photographer needs patience and the ability to be still inside. All your lessons were profound. You taught by example, always willing to freely share what you knew.
I remember the long conversations, where, of an evening, we would sit around an evaporating bottle of whisky and discuss the merits of D-76 and Rodinal, and the papers we each fancied (you Kodak Elite, me Agfa Brovira), and the intricacies of the Zone System. It took you ten minutes to show me the easy way to load a double-dark. You were that sort of teacher. You knew your subject so well that you could make it seem easy. I never ceased to admire your deep knowledge of the history of photography, and how well-read you were. From you I learned to mix and use Amidol and Ferri; I heard of the lives and philosophies of Weston, Bullock, Adams and Modotti; I learned about the Graflex and the Ur-Leica. (more…)