“On the sand and in the water lay enormous redwood stumps, the silvery patina of the polished wood alternating with patches of charcoal black. There were the photographers, of course, down in the midst of it; Edward photographing stumps, Willard photographing stumps, as well as photographing Edward photographing stumps.”
Note: Unless stated otherwise, all photographs illustrated in this post are vintage prints currently owned by Paul M. Hertzmann, Inc. All photographs by Edward Weston © Center for Creative Photography, University of Arizona.
In March 1937, Edward Weston became the first photographer ever awarded a prestigious Guggenheim Foundation Fellowship. The significance of this honor cannot be overstated. As Camera Craft proclaimed: “Every photographer can take pride in the appointment of Edward Weston as a Fellow of the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation. This recognition of photography will bring satisfaction to every photographer and we are sure that all extend their thanks with ours to Mr. Weston. … in the opinion of this magazine no better man could have been chosen.” The Guggenheim itself described the focus of Weston’s project succinctly as: “The making of a series of photographic documents of the West.”
That summer, between 6–14 August, Weston and Charis Wilson traveled from San Francisco up the north coast of California and back scouting locations for the recently commenced Fellowship. Accompanying them were photographer Willard Van Dyke and their mutual friend Gretchen Schoninger. It was a rewarding journey despite such tribulations as persistent fog, car troubles, and miles of towering, photographically challenging redwoods. Charis’ keen journal observations and Weston’s masterful images recording what would ultimately be two years of Fellowship forays are revealed in a number of publications. Most notable are the acclaimed 1940 book, California and the West, and a series of twenty-one Westways magazine articles published by the Automobile Club of Southern California between August 1937 and July 1939 as “Seeing California with Edward Weston.”
During that brief August journey, Willard Van Dyke made a remarkable body of photographs of Weston on or near the north coast beaches they visited. Taken with a Zeiss Contax 35 mm camera, each of the resultant silver prints measures approximately 4 3/4 x 6 1/4 inches (or reverse). Van Dyke gave Weston over two dozen of these little known vintage prints and on 28 March 1938 Weston wrote to express his delight in receiving them:
But my reason for writing now is to acknowledge the express packages. Willard, I wish you were here to receive my—and Charis’s—embraces, kisses, etc. etc. etc. And I wish you could have seen the excitement when we opened to the E.W. series. They are simply swell; we roared, and admired. To have these, the only record of this year’s Guggenheim, means very much to me,—means more because you were with us. As a photographer I can deeply appreciate all the work involved in making this set, and thank you from my depths.
Years later, Weston gave these photographs to fellow photographer and film maker Louis Clyde Stoumen, from whom Paul M. Hertzmann, Inc. acquired them. The dates and locations attributed to the images illustrated here are based on this author’s careful review of descriptions afforded by Charis Wilson’s journal, an explanatory letter from Charis to Paul Hertzmann and Susan Herzig, and such internal visual clues as location landmarks and Weston’s clothing.
Van Dyke’s visual record, combined with Charis Wilson’s incisive written impressions, bring this remarkable August 1937 trip to life.
California and the West introduces the August expedition as follows:
Given his choice of where we would go and what we would see in the seven days at his disposal, Willard spoke for the north coast. This is California’s terra incognita. The Redwood Highway, which keeps inland for most of its length, is widely miscalled the coast road; even many native Californians’ don’t know that a road really follows the coast north of San Francisco. Willard wanted to see all of it he could in that short time, so it was to be a swift trip—for us just a preview. …
Charis’ 6 August journal entry records an auspicious beginning: “Calling on all our own natural resources plus a smattering of Christian Science and a pinch of Black Magic, we pack everything including four of ourselves into Heimy [their 1937 Ford V-8 automobile, purchased for and nicknamed in honor of the Guggenheim Fellowship], and, by one in the afternoon, trundle off across the great orange Bridge of Bridges, whose tips are concealed in the usual fog rapper [wrapper].”
Despite the rosy departure across the Golden Gate “Bridge of Bridges,” the route and its initial obstacles soon became apparent. In her memoir, Through Another Lens, Charis writes:
In those days, there was no Highway 101 as we know it, and no Interstate 5. The so-called Coastal Highway stayed inland for much of its route, but when we could we followed tiny, winding Highway 1, which traced every headland and inlet for most of the length of Northern California. Willard said it was impossible to photograph redwoods because of their scale and the perpetual twilight in their midst, so Edward didn’t try—that would come on a later trip. At first, the fog-muffled shoreline also seemed impossible; it was flat and uninteresting, particularly after the strong contrasts and brilliant sunlight of the southern deserts. When Edward realized that fog was as much a part of this country as sunlight of the desert, he came to like the dark trees and buildings against blank white skies and the rolling gray waves of fog that poured dramatically down the hills.
Charis not only chronicled their daily activities in her journal, she kept a detailed tally of the expenses incurred, opening a window onto the economic realities of traveling under a shoe-string budget at the height of the Great Depression.
Among the intrepid voyagers’ daily challenges were the tasks of packing and unpacking Heimy, cramming everything, including themselves, into the heavily laden car, setting up and breaking down camps, and preparing meals—all of which Charis anticipates in her journal: “… The first news is that Willard wants to take Gret along on our proposed coast trip, and also wants all of us to go in one car. Four of us plus supplies, four sleeping bags, 2 8 x 10s and so on will really be a pretty problem. …”
Challenges notwithstanding, the itinerary afforded fertile ground for inspiration and Weston was quick to respond. On 8 August, Van Dyke captured this quintessential view of his friend enveloped under a focusing cloth, camera aimed at the fields and sea beyond the Westport overlook at which they paused.
The day began early, as Charis describes:
On this blessed Sabbath cars go by even as early as we are up… I look across the road and see that we are 33 miles from Fort Bragg, as we work up steam and roll off along the creek which very soon begins to look like a river, and then fog appears and we know the coast is coming, which it does with Albion. The town is on the hillslope [sic] of a little jut of land and in the inlet below it are very abandoned looking buildings and machinery of the Albion Lumber Company, same one that had the Navarro place. From the sea back into the canyon the strip of green water moves sluggishly and huge fish or maybe whales ripple the surface with their jumping. The houses are rusty and shabby, hinges squeak and a loose bit of sheet metal jangles. Edward and Willard are both at work, shooting down from the road on the river and bldgs. …
Once past Mendocino and Fort Bragg, Charis continues her 8 August entry with this description of the Westport hayfield where Van Dyke caught Weston photographing: “Driving along, Willard reading to us from travel diary of the making of the picture The River [1938 documentary directed by Pare Lorentz and filmed by Van Dyke], govt [government] followup to Plow That Broke the Plain [1936 documentary by Lorentz], so thru Fort Bragg, and it is neither fog nor sun but six of one and a bakers dozen of the other, and at Westport Edward spots a hayfield over the fence, and we reef the sails, and Edward sails into action, Willard covering the ways and means with his movie camera.”
These two candid photographs of Weston standing next to Heimy, either setting up or preparing to stow his camera, may have been taken at Westport as well.
Willard Van Dyke, Edward Weston with Camera Gear, possibly Westport, 8 August 1937
August 10th found the group camping at Little River Beach, where Willard photographed Edward at work on a convoluted tree stump. Charis writes:
The first time I come out of the haze [she had been unwell and slept in the car much of the day] we are at Little River, a State Park beach There are huge burned redwood stumps lying on the sand and the river is a thin sheet of water with mist rising from it. The sun shines pallidly and Gret says there are snakes around and Edward and Willard have set to work on the stumps. The place is very Tanguey in looks and feeling, the smoothness of the waterworn wood is reminiscent of his assorted bone objects, and the distance is a tint of lavander [sic] Tanguey haze. Edward is very taken with the place and makes eleven negatives.
Willard Van Dyke, Series depicting Edward Weston at Little River Beach, 10 August 1937
They encountered equally captivating subjects at Crescent Beach later that day and the next, as Charis records here:
…the country is opening out as we approach Crescent City. The road runs along the beach where from the town obtains its name, and we slow down and stop on finding it a big edition of Little River. Here, enormous tree trunks as well as stumps are spaced along the sand, and if Little River reminded me of Tanguey, this brings him to life. The silver-lavander [sic] color in the water worn wood is absolutely true to the painter, the pictures may or not be true to life, but this place is certainly true to the pictures. Edward uses the rest of the films and wishes he had more. We find a large nub of rattlesnake melon, still fresh and good, – – I am still too rocky to be intrigued, but the rest fall to, and henceforward Edward never gets over calling this Watermelon Beach. / … / Now Edward and Willard go for a swim on the nice flat beach with a slight covering of ocean, and short of the crescity [sic] we inquire at a service station for camping possibilities. I have spotted two lakes on the map north of Crescity [sic], but the prop says that’s all private. But he directs us to the S. Station-Autocourt of a Mr. Lejasses on the other side of town, says he is an old scoutmaster and can tell us where to stack up.
On 11 August, she pondered the source of the roots that so fascinated Weston:
Then to Crescent City Beach again. Occurs to me that it is wonderable [sic] how these big roots get here. The trees have been lumbered, that is the root has a sawed off top usually, clearly the roots have floated out sea and washed back up on the beach, but how did they get into the water in the first place. Would someone clearing land and blasting out stumps dump them in the river? Since this proceeding would take a couple of strong nags? Then too most of the stumps are burned, how and when does that come in? Tentatively I decide, first they were logged off, then the stumps burned, then – – slurring over this part – – they got washed into the river, down and out to sea where the waves returned them to the beach. And with that I have to be satisfied for the while, because we never stop long enough near enough to anyone for me to get a professional opinion. Edward makes six more negatives, Willard and I swim, the water cold and I take out with a fierce double earache. Willard says his father used to cure same for him, and sits and blows cigarette smoke into my ear which seems to help some.
Van Dyke was both impressed and perplexed by Weston’s intense focus. Reflecting on his friend’s unwavering aesthetic commitment, he wrote to his fiancée Mary Gray Barnett on 8 and 12 August:
The stuff he [Weston] is doing is very beautiful but always in his work is the thought of FORM primarily, subject material is the last consideration.” [continuing on 12 August:] Yesterday, for four and a half hours Edward worked with details of old stumps, while I lay in the sun. I cannot understand how anyone can hammer away, year after year at the same subject material. It is almost as if he felt that if he could just keep his head under the black cloth, resolving problems of form on the ground glass, he would never have to look at the larger world of humans and their problems. But he is a sweet person and I certainly mean no criticism of his way of working. It is only that I don’t understand it.
The two photographers’ processes may have differed—Van Dyke, the documentarian, working rapidly with a handheld movie camera or a 35 mm Contax and Weston, the master of pre-visualization, photographing methodically with his cumbersome 8×10 view camera—yet both were equally dedicated to revealing a subject’s essence. Van Dyke’s photographs from this August trip read like single frames from one of his films.
Willard Van Dyke, Series depicting Edward Weston at Crescent Beach, California, 11August 1937
Although the majority of Van Dyke’s images seem candid, a number were clearly choreographed with a more formal objective in mind. Charis comments on this duality in a letter to Paul Hertzmann and Susan Herzig, dated 31 July 1991: “Most of the “bullfight” ports (billowing focusing cloth) were prob. made at Crescent Beach. Some could have been action jobs but sequence[s] … (taking reading, setting stop, drawing slide, making exposure, replacing slide) was prob. made to order for some purpose of Willard’s.”
The more deliberate aspect of Van Dyke’s images is apparent in the following photographs.
Willard Van Dyke, Series of portraits of Edward Weston, possibly Moonstone Beach, 12 August 1937
The group arrived at Moonstone Beach, “just below Orick,” on 11 August and remained through part of the 12th. On 11 August, Charis writes:
Just below Orick is a big drive out point where we stopped for a look over on the way up. Now Edward sets to work over the edge on a long logstrewn beach far below, to one side a parallel dirt road a log pool and grey barn, to the other a wide band of foamy breakers. The day is grey but the sun is out here, and only light haze in the air. Willard is sitting in the front seat when a car stops beside us and a wife gets out and poses on the brink, the husband stands just a few feet from Willard portraiting here with a little Kodak. Willard grabs his Contax and does the unaware portly photographer. … Edward does three of waves on a little beach below the point end, reminiscent of the moltenmetal [sic] waves on the little San Simeon beach. Such a late get off this morning that the day is already spent. …
Charis continues her 11 August entry as follows:
… Moonstone Beach, wind down a steep dirt road and come onto a grassy strip at the sands edge. We turn right at the hill foot and have a small clearing alone, other campers are down to the right. Massy rocks stick up from the flat sand here and there, and the beach is a crisscross carpet of washed in logs. … The grass strip is dirtyish with litter so we plan to bed down in the sand between logs. Get a good fire going and Willard sets to work over it frying steaks. … The fog comes in low and cockeyed, backsided, newish moon hangs over the water helplessly. The beach is quiet and mysterious, and the voice and laughing shouts of our neighbors are somewhat eerie in the far away but close effect the fog imposes on them. …
And picks up the Moonstone Beach thread again on the 12th:
In spite of the heavy low greycoat [fog], Edward sets to work. Unsuccessful clam diggers stroll back and forth, inform us there was only a foot of tide this morning, but at a big tide the water comes all the way up the beach to where we slept, and goes down so far they can walk out half a mile for the shutups. Edward makes five negatives and we eat and pack. …
This Weston photograph of Moonstone Beach is a cornucopia of interesting elements. There’s Heimy parked on the “grassy strip at sands edge,” the “crisscross carpet of washed in logs,” and, most fortuitously, Charis herself, seated on a log at the upper right, typing away at what is undoubtedly her journal of the day’s events. Charis was fond of her trusty machine, writing in Through Another Lens: “I acquired a pint-size Royal Signet typewriter with a boxy case I could use for a typing table while sitting on the ground. Most of the four hundred and something pages of the Guggenheim log were typed on this $17.50 machine.”
Edward Weston, Moonstone Beach, 12 August 1937 and detail showing Charis on the beach with her Royal Signet typewriter
Willard Van Dyke, Edward Weston, possibly Moonstone Beach, 12 August 1937
Weston wasn’t the only member of the four-person group to capture Van Dyke’s attention. On the 13th he took this portrait of Charis enjoying her morning coffee at Smith River Camp. Van Dyke caught himself in action here as well—that’s his shadow at the lower right of the composition.
As is evident in Van Dyke’s photograph, Charis had cut her hair short for the sake of convenience during the Guggenheim travels. Her friend Gretchen wore her hair short as well. Shorn hair, combined with their customary apparel of jeans or khaki pants, often led confused bystanders to mistake them for boys. At Redwood State Park on 9 August, Charis noted in her journal: “Last night when Edward was paying the ranger the usual fifty cent State Park fee, the latter said there’s a pool in the river here if the boys want to swim tomorrow—boys of course meaning Willard Gret and me. Then the ranger saw Gret issuing forth from the ladys’ [sic] compartment, bet he has something to mull over when the frost settles in this winter.” A few days later, on 13 August she also recounts: “… a weedy old lady … comes up with fluttering skirts and aprons and says smiling, — Say, boys, those berries are ours [Charis and Gretchen were picking blackberries at the road’s edge]. … Gret and I are classed as boys wherever we appear.”
In her 13 August journal entry, Charis describes that morning:
I wake up to see the sun topping the hills. Edward is rousing out and there is the usual morning dew coat over all. … Coffee, and Willard and I call Gret and Edward dope addicts and hop heads [Charis and Willard were trying to quit smoking] and give them pep talks about how good we feel not smoking and how much better food tastes with the taste buds unblighted by nicotine, and both finally admit we would like a cigarette but don’t weaken. … Edward is waiting for the sun to light up a little triangle of hay field on the slope to our north, so another lazy morning and a scrambled tomato egg breakfast. When the light gets right Edward does his stacks, with a K2 filter and then with a G and when that’s done we move down to Westport south of which Edward made his hayfield on the way north. …
Camping, packing, traveling, hiking, and photographing were rewarding but exertive exercises. Swimming offered a well-deserved means of relaxation, invigoration and bathing throughout the trip. Charis comments on such episodes throughout her journal. This unique photograph of Weston about to enter the sea may have been taken somewhere south of Westport on 13 August. Charis writes: “Going on south, stop on a bend and Edward does the coastline, and some farther we bounce down a little rut of road, and along the beach in fierce wind, Edward and Willard swim. I am afraid of earache and refrain. The breakers pile up lavishly here, over great rocks that lie just off the beach and the tide comes in running.”
A number of Van Dyke’s posed images eventually made their way into publications. This outstanding portrait of Weston taking a light meter reading surfaced a few times (in some instances cropped to exclude the camera). The earliest article to illustrate a photograph taken on the August journey appeared in the 27 December issue of Life magazine.
This view of Weston carrying his equipment across a beach appeared in the February 1939 issue of Camera Craft. Judging from the pools of water and Weston’s attire, it too was taken during the 10 August shoot at Little River.
Lastly, twenty years later Modern Photography illustrated this classic image of Weston at Crescent Beach, along with a second Van Dyke portrait of Weston taken during the August trip, in an August 1957 article about the Louis Clyde Stoumen film, The Naked Eye.
The August 1937 journey may have been brief, but it inspired significant creativity. Through Willard Van Dyke’s photographic record and Charis Wilson’s written words, we gain personal insight into Weston at work as an artist and at leisure with friends, insight that greatly enriches our understanding of the man and his photographs.
As the narration to The Photographer, Willard Van Dyke’s 1948 film about Edward Weston, reveals:
The artist is first a man. And into his art he can put only what he feels and thinks as a man. / To know what Weston likes is to know how he chooses the subjects of his photographs. His greatest pleasure is the simplest of all—the pleasure of looking at the varied scenery of California, looking for the richness and drama, for the strength and relaxation, for the pleasing and surprising form that men call beauty. … His own understanding of people, his personal affection for them, in due course find their way on to his negatives. His keen observant eye misses little that is significant about them. / … / Now that we know how he works we can appreciate what goes into Weston’s creative process. An intense love first of the world around him and then the sharp eye attuned to the values of the mind behind it. Third, the constant search for significant form, the need to find order in what first appears to be chaos. Finally the disciplines of technique, the painstaking skill of the master craftsman. These things make a man an artist. They lift him out of the role of recorder to the heights of creation. They enable him to be sure of himself. …
1 Charis Wilson and Edward Weston, California and the West, New York: A U.S. Camera Book / Duell, Sloan and Pearce, 1940, p. 71.
2 “Club Notes: Weston Receives Guggenheim Fellowship,” Camera Craft 44:6 (June 1937), 302.
3 [Announcement] Henry Allen Moe, “Appointed From the United States of America,” John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation Fellows, New York: John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation, 27 May 1937.
4 Although not referred to in California and the West, in her meticulously kept, unpublished Guggenheim travel journal, Charis refers to “Gret” as a member of their party and subsequently identifies her in Through Another Lens as their Carmel friend, Grechen Schoninger. See: Charis Wilson and Wendy Madar, Through Another Lens My Years with Edward Weston, New York: North Point Press / Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1998, Chapter 9, p. 149. Charis writes: “Willard chose to spend his seven free days in mid-August with us on the north coast, and I remember that trip with pleasure because there was finally another woman along. I’d known Gretchen Schoninger in Carmel, where she had posed for Edward before I met him. She was at home in the outdoors, a good camper, and game for anything. Like me, she had short hair and wore jeans. (An irate shopkeeper once addressed us as “you boys.”) While Edward and Willard went about making pictures, Gretchen and I pursued our own adventures.”
5 The August 1937 north coast excursion, and a subsequent one in September, appeared together in the January 1938 issue of Westways under the title “Seeing California with Edward Weston: The Northern California Coast.” At the conclusion of the series, late in 1939, the Automobile Club of Southern California combined all twenty-one articles in a book, also titled Seeing California with Edward Weston.
The twenty-one Westways articles, published between August 1937 and July 1939, are: “The California Coast—San Diego to Monterey,” August 1937 / “High Sierra,” September 1937 / “Carrizo Creek and the Southern Colorado Desert,” October 1937 / “Death Valley,” November 1937 / “Mojave Desert,” December 1937 / “The Northern California, Coast,” January 1938 / “The Redwood Highway,” February 1938 / “Red Rock Canyon,” March 1938 / “Northeastern California,” May 1938 / “Lake Tenaya,” July 1938 / “Owens Valley,” August 1938 / “Point Lobos and Oceano,” September 1938 / “Lake Tahoe and Vicinity,” October 1938 / “The Salton Sink and Borego Valley,” November 1938 / “Death Valley, II,” December 1938 / “Yosemite Under Snow,” January 1939 / “Desert Vistas,” February 1939 / “Tomales Bay and the Bodega Coast,” March 1939 / “Northern California Ranches,” May 1939 /“Mountain Solitudes,” June 1939 / “Monterey Bay and Vicinity,” July 1939.
6 Leslie Squyres Calmes, The Letters Between Edward Weston and Willard Van Dyke, Tucson, Arizona: Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona, 1992, Letter 48, 28 March 1938, p. 34. NOTE: According to the “Finding Aid for the Willard Van Dyke Archive / 1915-1987” at the Center for Creative Photography, the collection includes seven sheets of contact prints from this August 1937 trip. Two examples are illustrated in The Letters Between Edward Weston and Willard Van Dyke, one on the title page (one strip of negatives only) and a full sheet of five strips on page 33.
7 Op. Cit. California and the West, Chapter IV, North Coast “Preview,” p. 67.
8 Charis Wilson, Journal of Guggenheim Year 1937, March 22-1939, April 24–1938, unpublished, typewritten manuscript, The Huntington Library, San Marino, California, Gift of Charis Wilson, November 1987. Entry for Friday, August 6, 1937, p. 1 NC. This unpublished journal served as the basis for much of the reporting published in both California and the West and Westways.
9 Charis Wilson and Wendy Madar, Through Another Lens My Years with Edward Weston, New York: North Point Press / Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1998, Chapter 9, p. 150.
10 Op. Cit. Wilson, Journal of Guggenheim Year… Entry for Wednesday, 4 August 1937, p. 30 NC.
11 Typewritten letter from Charis [Wilson Weston] Harris to Paul Hertzmann and Susan Herzig, dated 31 July 1991. Collection of Paul M. Hertzmann, Inc. Charis describes this roadside scene as: “… a longshot of Westport hayfield w/ EW under focusing cloth, cam. case behind him, brambles on fence at road edge, & sea beyond the field.” A chronology included in the letter identifies the date of the “Westport hayfield” outing as August 8th.
12 Op. Cit. Wilson, Journal of Guggenheim Year… Entry for Sunday, 8 August 1937, p. 3 NC.
13 Ibid. Entry for Sunday, 8 August 1937, p. 4 NC.
14 In her letter to Paul Hertzmann and Susan Herzig, Charis notes: “3 roadside camera-packing by car may be Westport.”
15 Op. Cit. Wilson, Journal of Guggenheim Year… Entry for Tuesday, 10 August 1937, pp. 6–7 NC.
16 Ibid. Entry for Tuesday, 10 August 1937, p. 7 NC.
17 Ibid. Entry for Wednesday, 11 August 1937, p. 8 NC.
18 Op. Cit. The Letters Between Edward Weston and Willard Van Dyke, Introduction, Note 5, p. x. Calmes writes: “(8 and 12 August 1937, WVDA.).” Van Dyke’s letter to Barnett is located in the Willard Van Dyke Archive at the Center for Creative Photography, The University of Arizona.
19 Op. Cit. Typewritten letter from Charis [Wilson Weston] Harris to Paul Hertzmann and Susan Herzig.
20 Op. Cit. Journal of Guggenheim Year… Entry for Wednesday, 11 August 1937, pp. 8–9 NC.
21 Ibid. Entry for Wednesday, 11 August 1937, p. 9 NC.
22 Ibid. Entry for Thursday, 12 August 1937, p. 9 NC.
23 Op. Cit. Through Another Lens, Chapter 7, p. 118.
24 Op. Cit. Typewritten letter from Charis [Wilson Weston] Harris to Paul Hertzmann and Susan Herzig. Charis writes: “Me with cup belongs with domestic set at Smith River camp.”
25 Op. Cit. Journal of Guggenheim Year… Entry for Monday, 9 August, p. 4 NC.
26 Ibid. Entry for Friday, 13 August, p. 11 NC.
27 Ibid. Entry for Friday, 13 August, p. 10 NC.
28 Ibid. Entry for Friday, 13 August, p. 12 NC.
29 “Speaking of Pictures: These are Edward Weston’s Westerns,” Life 3:26 (27 December 1937), 4–6. [This Illus. p. 5]. In addition to the Van Dyke portrait of Weston taking a light meter reading, the August 1937 north coast photographs illustrated in this article are: Las Lomas Rancho, Coast Range (Conger 1060/1937); Albion Lumber Company (Conger 1075/1937); and Tomales [three cows] (Conger 1115/1937).
30 Edward Weston, “Photographing California [Part I],” Camera Craft 46:2 (February 1939), 56–64. [This Illus. p. 57].
31 Myron A. Matzkin, “Still Pictures Move: A Feature Film About Photography is Characterized by Planned Editing,” Modern Photography 21:8 (August 1957): 84–85, 108, 110. [These two Illus. p. 84.]
32 “Commentary” written by Irving Jacoby as the narrative to the film The Photographer, photographed and directed by Willard Van Dyke and released in 1948. This “Commentary” is transcribed in: Irving Jacoby, “The Commentary,” In The Photographer: From a Motion Picture About Edward Weston [by Willard Van Dyke]. Monterey, California: W.T. Lee Co., n.d. [after 1950].