Ray Andrews: Inspired by Ansel Adams
This is the piece I’ve meant to write since meeting Ray Andrews about five years ago. In fact, I could probably write a book about Ray because of the influence he has had on photography and people in Des Moines. Ray died on November 16, 2007 suddenly of a bad heart. Those of us who were lucky enough to know him, would describe him as a humble, wise, and gentle spirit. For these reasons, it is not too late to tell part of Ray's story as a way to share his legacy.
I first met Ray at an exhibit of 10 women photographers. Fortunately for me, a friend invited me to participate after someone had canceled and Ray was one of the judges for the show. Confident of my photographs of Mexican women leaders because my exhibit had been touring public places in Iowafor a couple of years, Ray critiqued my photos by saying, “They are good, but they would be better if they were in focus.” I had never heard that comment before from anyone. But after Ray brought it to my attention, I could not look at them without seeing that the photographs were definitely not in focus. It was at that moment that I decided I needed lessons and Ray agreed to be my teacher. In some ways, we were an odd couple. My preference was always to include people in the photos and Ray was the opposite. He said that he had done enough weddings in his past that he preferred landscapes. One of his favorite photographs is featured in this article. It is the classic Ansel Adams image of the Snake River in Wyoming. Ray was so proud of this photograph because is it is impossible to take the same image today because the trees have grown and block the view.
Ray had been active in photography for over 40 years and was one of the founders of a group called “The Fine Print Club “in Des Moines. He was president of The Des Moines Camera Club many times which named Ray the “Photographer of the Year” at least three times and he continued to teach judging workshops and judged photo competitions for years. While Ray had been a fine arts photographer for decades and he won numerous awards and received many accolades, what gave him the most pleasure were his students.
During my last lesson, he told me that he would never have believed that a retired mail carrier for the U.S. Postal Service would be teaching so many professional people. His students included doctors, lawyers, and other people he considered of higher status than he. When I told him I had my Ph.D., he seemed somewhat surprised, but then said that he would now add that to his list.
In this same last lesson, Ray shared with me that he had a history of heart problems. When Des Moines started performing open heart surgeries in 1970, Ray was the ninth person to have the surgery and he was proud to be the longest survivor. When I told Simone, his wife, that he had shared this and that I had no idea, her response was, “It is his students and teaching them that has kept him alive all of these years.”
At a time when the whole world is giving up film to turn to digital photography, Ray, who only used film, told me that he is as busy as he has ever been and he was selling his work more than ever. He believed darkroom photography would always have a place because of the artistic element. In fact, he said that he had no more openings for new students.
For me, being with Ray was more than sharing our love of black and white photography. I enjoyed being around him because he was a “sage.” A sage is a person who continues to learn, is wise, and mentors others. Ray’s passion for photography was contagious and he was generous in sharing his time, talents, and expertise. Since he was never in a hurry, Ray was a calming influence. It was peaceful being in his presence.
It was not until I went to visit Ray in the hospital that Simone told me he could only see out of one eye. Evidently several years ago, he lost the sight in one eye but he did not let that slow him down. I found this unbelievable because Ray would always make sure my photographs were in focus. For Ray, so much about photography was about intuition and experience. He said that taking the photograph was only the beginning. It is in the printing that a photograph becomes fine art. Each print was a labor of love with Ray. When I see a high quality black and white photograph, I will always remember Ray Andrews, the Ansel Adams I had the privilege of knowing.
