Humor Marks Rondal Partridge's Work

By Monica Beeler
Oakland Tribune
February 3, 2003

A brief tour of his wood-paneled Berkeley home confirms Partridge's perennial preoccupation. The dining room holds archived negatives from some 60 years. The swinging kitchen door serves as a photo gallery of random and amusing public signs: "Public nudity prohibited," "Shop/Here/First" and "Naked Ladies in Cans."

The living room, strewn with cameras and photography books, doubles as his work space. The best light-filled nook stands empty, awaiting his next experiment with decaying leaves and flowers, at least on this day. With Partridge's perpetually roving curiosity and drive to try the most challenging photographic processes, such as making time-consuming platinum prints, he's never focused on a single subject or technique for too long.

From Depression-era documentary photos of rail riders and field workers to more recent irreverent self-portraits reflected in toasters and airport bathroom mirrors, Partridge's wide-ranging interests -- flavored with a healthy dose of humor -- have been both a strength and hindrance to his long career, photography experts say. His dedication to making photos everyday -- the photos his artist's eye compelled him to make, and no others -- meant he has built an expansive body of work, including unusual documentary images, touching family portraits and stirring, sometimes abstract still lifes. His disinclination to take the photos dictated by others also meant he passed up career opportunities with the once-famous Black Star Agency in New York, Life magazine and other institutions that might have assured him fame and fortune, issues of secondary interest to Partridge.

"If you do what other people want you to do, you don't see what you see," says a bushy-haired Partridge, ensconced in a deep red side chair that matches his red eyeglasses. "I don't look for photographic opportunities. They look for me."

Long confounded by Partridge's depth and range, the art establishment has never launched a major retrospective of his work, a situation corrected by the January opening of two Bay Area exhibitions devoted to his primarily black-and-white photography. Drew Johnson curated one show at the Oakland Museum of California.

"Curators and art critics like to put people in boxes," says Johnson, curator for photography for the Oakland Museum. "You absolutely cannot say that about Ron (Partridge). You look at this show, it could be the work of three different artists."

"Quizzical Eye: The Personal Photography of Rondal Partridge" at the Oakland Museum of California begins with documentary work such as "Entering California 3" (late 1930s) in which the artist depicts a faceless newcomer to the state lying in the dust working under his car, identified only by thick-soled boots and eponymous striped work pants. The exhibit concludes with a selection of self-portraits, including "Old Photographers Never Die" (1994), a distorted image of the wild, white-haired artist shot in the reflection of a sheet of mylar he found in a garbage can.

The artist's lifelong environmental concerns are reflected in "Quizzical Eye: The California Photography of Rondal Partridge," on display at the California Historical Society in San Francisco. Both exhibitions opened Jan. 18 and run through June 22.

Even Partridge's environmental photography bears his humorous stamp, a trait that earned him few points with Ansel Adams. Adams disapproved of a now-famous image Partridge made of Half Dome in Yosemite National Park. The glacier-carved mountain stands at a distance, seen across a sea of cars in a parking lot. Partridge titled the mid 1960s photo, "Pave it and Paint it Green." "I admire and love Ansel," Partridge says. "I worked with him and disagreed with him, but I never took a photo like him."

Partridge reserves his highest professional esteem for Dorothea Lange, best known for her poignant 1930s portraits of migrant farm workers, impoverished mothers and their children. "Dorothea did a job, a work-a-day job to use photography to change the world -- and that she did," Partridge says.

One of the most valuable lessons she taught him, he says, was to photograph people from behind in a way that the viewer imagines what the subject looks like from the front. Determined to illustrate this point, Partridge jumps out of his chair and heads toward a tall wooden chest. "Somewhere in here I have an original Dorothea Lange, in one of these drawers," he says. Thunk-thunk. He opens and closes drawers, rifling through stacks of prints. "Yes! Here it is." He returns to the living room and tosses onto the coffee table a black-and-white image of a thick-waisted police officer in old-fashioned cap and high boots. Without seeing his face, one clearly imagines the officer's florid complexion and no-nonsense demeanor.

Partridge adopted the technique for one of his most successful portraits, "The Eye." Taken in 1953 for Life magazine, the photo appeared in a series about the birth of Partridge and his wife Elizabeth's second daughter, Margaret. In the frame, Elizabeth, who appears nude above the waist, props up her head with one hand as she lies on her side. In the triangle created by her bent arm, one eye of the infant Margaret gazes out directly at the viewer.

"I think 'Quizzical Eye' is a good (title)," Johnson says. "He has a very unusual viewpoint on things. It's a little askew."