Ansel, Walter, Alice and Me

Do you ever stumble across a photo that provokes a flood of memories? My latest adventure to Yosemite did just that.

This week I helped run the Out of Yosemite Landscape Photography conference where over a hundred attendees gathered in Yosemite Valley to explore and photograph Ansel Adams’ iconic places of inspiration. I was honored to listen to the stories of Ansel by his family, plus learn hands-on from his legendary assistants and over a dozen other leading landscape photographers in the world. It was a special event, to say the least.

Each day we explored and photographed Yosemite Valley including Half Dome, El Capitan, Bridal Veil Fall, several meadows and more. I even hiked the trail to Upper Yosemite Falls to get a glimpse from above.

It wasn’t until I walked into the Ansel Adams’ gallery and roamed the wall where Ansel’s Special Edition prints are hung, a flood of memories rushed in. I was mesmerized by Thunderstorm in Yosemite Valley, El Capitan and Half Dome from Glacier Point, even Bridal Veil Fall. But the image that stood out more than the rest, was the solo gnarled tree titled Jeffrey Pine.

It was familiar to me and I was curious to understand more, as it returned memories of my grandparents. The exact pine tree is something I saw growing up in their house. I was four years old at the time.

Jeffrey Pine, Sentinel Dome by Ansel Adams | 1940

My grandparents, Walt and Alice Gentala, had a passion for black and white photography. I know this because they built a small dark room off the kitchen in their house on Mount Rainier and I spent time in it watching my grandfather make black and white prints.

But it was in 1971, when they packed up their camper and drove from Carbonado, Washington to the Sierra Nevada Mountains for a visit to Yosemite National Park. And they brought along their camera because they had been taking photography classes themselves.

After the rush of memories subsided and I found the words to speak, I asked the gallery director about the Jeffrey Pine image. He said Ansel photographed it in 1940 and the tree sat on top of Sentinel Dome, with a 360 degree view of the valley. It died in the late 70s and later disappeared off the mountain in the 2000s, most likely being blown off the ledge from its roots.

Other than it being quite beautiful, I am not sure why this image of the gnarled pine tree is embedded in my memory, since no one else in my family remembers it. But I knew, even when I was young, there was something special about it. Because my grandparents took a similar image of the exact same tree on their trip to Yosemite decades ago. And, I have the negatives.

This past week was an immersive photography learning experience in one of the most beautiful places on earth. And I ask myself the question, how do you capture the intangible feeling of such of a magical place? That is what Ansel did so effortlessly in Monolith, the Face of Half Dome. I can sense the awe and excitement he may have experienced scrambling over the rocks to get that shot. With Jeffrey Pine, there is a feeling of quiet zen admiring the windswept bonsai-like pine set against the sky. I know if I was there on Sentinel Dome, I would have sat for hours immersed in it.

Ansel Adams said, “A great photograph is one that fully expresses what one feels, in the deepest sense, about what is being photographed.” But for me, there is something else that allows us to feel what is in the photo. And that is the story behind it.

This past week the personal stories of Ansel and his life, told by Michael and Jeanne Adams, and his assistants John Sexton and Alan Ross, provided a deeper more meaningful connection to the legendary photographer. And, they made him a human being.

Upon my return home, I headed to the basement in search of an old brown suitcase that held my grandparents negatives. I wanted to know if my memory of Jeffrey Pine was real. How did Ansel and my grandparents photograph the same tree?

Filing through binders and manila folders, I soon revealed a proof sheet titled Yosemite, 1971. Skimming across the black and white rows, the twisted pine was as easy to spot as the one on the gallery wall. But this time the iconic tree was taken by my grandfather and the images next to it showed their journey throughout Yosemite National Park with views of Half Dome, El Capitan, Bridal Veil Fall and more.

Though I was not able to visit Sentinel Dome or photograph its iconic tree, I was moved seeing our similar photographic journeys and how my grandfather began to approach landscape photography. You can see that he waited for the clouds to move behind the Jeffrey Pine and even the shadow change on the rocks below. He approached it from different angles like any photographer would. And I realized my grandparents had a passion for photography, just like me. I guess I knew that, but it didn’t hit me until then. I started to wonder, did they admire Ansel Adams’ work too? Did my grandparents meet him back then? Did they themselves struggle as photographers with dynamic range of light on a clear sunny day in Yosemite, like me? And like me, did they see the full moon rising behind El Capitan? That was one of my favorite moments in Yosemite, waiting for the moon to slowly peak around the giant, granite wall and move across the valley below. I am curious, what moment in Yosemite was most memorable for them? Now knowing our shared experiences, I wish I could ask them.

I’ve only just begun editing the hundreds of photographs taken on my trip. I’m really excited to immerse myself in them, knowing our common connection. It’s also pretty awesome to know that Ansel, Walter, Alice and I, all share not one, but two passions together. Yosemite. And photography.

Full Moon El Capitan by Lesley Ames | 2020