Hidden Discipline -

The Photography of James Hubbell

By Laurel Costa, Archivist
Photos by James Hubbell

“Recent discoveries in the Ilan-Lael archive reveal a trove of photographs taken by James himself.”

The world knows James Hubbell as a man of many talents: prolific poet, philosopher, sculptor, painter, designer, and builder. Not surprisingly, he was also a talented photographer. Recent discoveries in the Ilan-Lael archive have revealed a trove of photographs taken by James himself.

James working with Laurel Costa and a macro lens to photograph an iris bloom at Ilan-Lael. Photo by John Wheelock

A closet clear-out revealed a large box full of slides, photographs and papers. Dedicated volunteer Kent Richardson re-sleeved the color slides into clean archival slide preservers. Some patterns emerged. Each roll had at least one beautiful portrait of Anne Hubbell. Most of the rest were images of sculptures, commissions, family, travel, and another category of photographic studies not previously seen in our archives: his examinations of architecture, nature, and art. All were carefully composed images by a skilled photographer. These studies were clearly for research: macro flower studies, architecture details, studies of other artists’ sculptures, rock images, and many more.

Additionally, we found wonderfully experimental images of his own sculpture, forged iron and bronze works, oil paintings, and unconventional uses of stained glass and glass-cullet (waste glass).

Following the discovery, I started asking people who were close to Jim whether or not he talked about his photography. Did he ever do a photography show in the past? All answered no, but most did recollect that he took a lot of photographs. His sons say that he always had good photo gear and considered taking photos “part of his job.” His longtime secretary and friend, Mary Ann Prue, said that he really kept up with film technology.

Jim had many professionals photograph his art over the years: notably John Durant, Otto Rigan, Tom Lamb, Michael Gerdes, John Waggaman, Joe Holly, Graham Wilder, Gene Faulkner, and countless others. He loved photographers; he was always searching for someone who could capture his art along with his vision, something that was undoubtedly challenging to represent. Jim’s greatest artistic endeavor was meant to be a human experience, and thus was difficult to capture in two dimensions. But we continue to try, and that is a beautiful and fulfilling effort. He often tasked other people including me, my colleagues, summer interns, and his own family with photography projects big and small.

Mati Moon, the Art Programs associate here at Ilan-Lael, recalls Jim saying, “Try to make something really small seem really big.” He had me photograph his brother Bert’s sculptures over and over again for years, always asking for another iteration that represented them “as feeling alive.” I tried video, and did take after take of a small ceramic creature careening into the garden brush and then recorded audio of his grandchildren making funny voices to dub over the video. He often remarked at how our then-gardener Mati would take the time to observe a dying tree’s colored leaves as they shifted from yellow to red to purple in the fall. Jim would ask me to photograph them and add them to his Within the Branches blog.

The most convincing evidence of James Hubbell as artist/photographer is an abstract film called Purple Cathedral he created in the 1970s with an unknown filmmaker and collaborator. The 16mm film presented a piece of organic “cathedral-like” architecture alongside poetry with a final reveal where the camera backs out and shows that all along you were inside a purple iris. He asked me to re-create it in 2018 and I did the best I could. (Jim had a way of pushing me outside of my comfort zone in a gentle, amused way.)

Since stumbling upon this evidence of yet another genre in Jim’s body of work, I’ve thought about whether it’s correct to conclude James was a photographer if he didn’t describe himself as one. It is significant that this wasn’t just a few rolls of snapshots. He cared deeply about this art form and utilized it often, both on his own and by giving direction to other artists. It was a way of slowing down, observing life’s fleeting moments, and catching things to remember and savor for a later painting or sculpture.