The Structure of a Moment

​

Through most of the 50s, 60s and 70s, as photographer for the Middletown Press, William F. Stekl documented the everyday flow of a vibrant New England community - from building fires to high school football games and almost everything in between.  He loved it, and yet - notwithstanding the excitement he felt being as omnipresent as humanly possible to document -  there was an artist in him as well.

 

For a precious subset of his negatives he farmed out development in order to double or triple the standard 8x10 inch print size, to accentuate what he found sublime. He kept these large prints closeted in the house for decades - why he never set them free is an open question.

 

I should have asked my dad, “What are the best shots you ever took?”  We will never know for sure but let’s speculate that he would have drawn a circle around those large-format prints.

 

I recently assembled those mostly B&W images - thirty-plus all tolled - and had them professionally digitized. Sometimes reparation was substantial, but the photos remain pure Connecticut River Valley, and 100% William F. Stekl.  Bias has nothing to do with it -  these photos do something to me.  

 

It is nothing less than magical when greyscale interpretations shuttle us to harboring places where color is not a distraction.  What remains is the essence of place, the structure of a moment, the heart of a person.  When I try to imagine the perfect image - the one possessing the power to spark community - it usually starts with the idea of committing “charcoal” to paper.

 

Judge for yourself… click on the sun-burst image to be shuttled to William Stekl's large-print gallery. They might just be what the doctor ordered.  P

​