On a scorching Memphis afternoon, I found myself at the Eggleston Artistic Trust building, meeting Winston Eggleston, son of the celebrated photographer William Eggleston and the trust’s director. He led me into a cool, dim office where William Eggleston, a true pioneer of pictures, sat. The room was a visual feast itself, adorned with photographic proof sheets, vintage Coke signs, a jukebox, and a red mid-century sofa.
At 77, Eggleston, often hailed as the “godfather of color photography,” embodies a captivating enigma. His groundbreaking 1976 solo exhibition at New York’s Museum of Modern Art, a landmark moment for Pioneer Pictures in color, initially faced harsh criticism. Reflecting on this, Eggleston dismisses the negativity, stating, “Critics and so forth obviously weren’t really looking at this stuff. Didn’t bother me a bit. I laughed at ’em.” This nonchalant attitude underscores his pioneering spirit, undeterred by conventional opinions.
Eggleston’s attire is as distinctive as his photographic style: a bespoke dark Savile Row suit, polished black shoes, a crisp white shirt, and an undone bow tie, complemented by the scent of bourbon and body lotion. His Cartier watch, perpetually two minutes behind, adds to his aura of timelessness. When asked about discussing photography, Eggleston hesitates, “It’s tricky,” he whispers in a drawling Southern accent, “Words and pictures don’t—they’re like two different animals. They don’t particularly like each other.” This statement highlights the intuitive nature of his work, focusing on the visual language of pioneer pictures rather than verbal explanations.
His compositions, the intricate geometry within his seemingly casual snapshots, have been extensively analyzed. However, Eggleston dismisses such analyses as “nonsense.” For him, photography is instinctive, not intellectual. “I know they’re there, the angles and compositions,” he acknowledges, “Every little minute thing works with every other one there. All of these images are composed. They’re little paintings to me.” This perspective reveals his artistic intent: to create meticulously composed images that stand alone as works of art, pioneer pictures in their own right.
Despite his dedication to the art form and his status as a pioneer of pictures, Eggleston holds a critical view of much contemporary photography. “Oh, half of what’s out there is worthless,” he scoffs. “The only pictures I like are the ones I’ve taken.” He contrasts himself with Ansel Adams, a photographer known for black and white landscape photography and a more traditional approach. When asked about Adams, Eggleston’s response is blunt: “We didn’t know each other, but if we did, I’d tell him the same thing: ‘I hate your work.’ ” However, he expresses a different sentiment towards Henri Cartier-Bresson, recalling a comment with amusement. Cartier-Bresson, known for capturing “the decisive moment,” once quipped to Eggleston, “You know, William, color is bullshit.” Eggleston’s reaction to this critique reveals his self-assuredness. “Oh, no. I just said, ‘Please excuse me,’ and left the table. I went to another table and partied.” This anecdote further cements his image as a pioneer of pictures, confidently forging his own path in color photography despite dissenting voices.
