William Albert Allard: The Photographic Essay

Every now and then I'm revisiting some of the photography books and other items on my shelves here. This time it’s . . .

Whenever I feel the urge to write a book review I like to browse over the shelves in my studio to see if a particular title jumps out at me. Today, to my surprise, the book that jumped was this one, The Photographic Essay, looking at the work of William Albert Allard. The surprise came perhaps because I hadn’t looked at this book for many years or really thought about Allard’s work much in that time. Some photographers just stay within you though and I realise now how much of an important early influence he was on me, especially when it came to working in colour and working with colour. More on that later.

There is one photograph by Allard, however, that I have looked at pretty much every day for nearly twenty years. It shows two children running, or rather flying, down a street in rural France; a beautiful image he shot in 1969, perfectly capturing the spirit of childhood in soft tones and pastel colours. I had cut it out of a magazine, framed it and placed it on the dresser in our bedroom. Since then it has accompanied the lives of our own two children growing up in a similar landscape here in Italy. Luckily in researching for this review I found it for sale on Allard’s website so I’ve placed an order for a signed print to replace the old magazine clipping. Happy days.

France, 1967

William Albert Allard, or Bill Allard as friends call him, was born in Minnesota in 1937. That means he’s in his late eighties while I write this, and hopefully keeping well. He’s had an interesting life, full of ups and downs but above all marked by a determination and dedication to his work. Best known as a National Geographic photographer, he also worked as a freelance for other magazines covering human interest stories around the world.

Like me he came to photography after trying other jobs, studied as a mature student and felt an early sense of urgency to ‘catch up’. I bought this book in 1989, the year I made my own career-changing move to study photography while not really having any clear idea how I might enter the profession. It’s a book that is part retrospective, part working diary and at the time it offered me much-needed insights into the world of editorial photography, the logistics, the relationship with editors and publishers and the problems of approaching and photographing people. More than just a collection of beautiful images, the text running throughout the book follows Allard’s career, his technique and thoughts on particular projects.

As I mentioned earlier, William Albert Allard was an early influence on my approach to photography. He shot almost exclusively on Kodachrome slide film; notoriously unforgiving if you don’t get the right exposure but offering a rich colour palette that Allard was able to exploit to its limits. Like every element in his framing, colour was there to serve a purpose. It was a protagonist, not a bystander. In his workshops Allard also emphasised the importance of simplicity and this is something I really took on board at the time:

“What you exclude is as important as what you include. Simplify. That doesn’t mean your pictures can’t be complex. But if you strive for simplicity you’re more likely to reach the viewer.”

William Albert Allard, The Photographic Essay.

His style of composition fascinated me. It was structured but not static, sometimes placing a subject at the edge of a frame but balancing it with other elements. He played with dark and shadow, not afraid to under-expose or to shoot handheld in low light. He had an eye that worked quickly and intuitively. I loved that about him. I can remember a couple of projects I made at college in those years.. a boxing club in East London, a Hare Krishna temple.. where I approached the subject with a very Allard-like technique, shooting on Kodachrome in low light, playing with composition, light and colour, learning how to gain the trust of the people I was photographing and how to tell their story. It taught me a lot..

So perhaps this book jumped out this morning to remind me, 36 years later, of the learning process that I went though (and continue to go through). I’ll take the opportunity to thank Bill Allard as one of the many photographers that have unknowingly helped and inspired me over the years. Good health to you.

William Albert Allard, The Photographic Essay. Published by Bulfinch Press/LIttle Brown, 1989