David Zickl’s Camera Lenses Go to the Heart of People Stories
Sometimes if you want to make an unforgettable image, you have to be willing to look for interesting characters in dark places — and maybe brave the karaoke.
At least, that’s one insight that emerges from the vivid work of photographer David Zickl, whose images consistently grab me by the lapels and yank me into a story.
Of course, faithful readers know that Zickl made a big splash in his August 2001 Arizona Highways debut with his powerful environmental portraits of the people of Big Sandy Valley. He’s now a regular contributor, including recent stories on Kingman and Flagstaff. These days, I have to restrain myself from giving Zickl every people-story photo assignment.
“I’m not a landscape photographer,” he says. “I’m primarily a conceptual environmental portrait photographer, and I hope to tell the stories of towns or places through their people. Generally, I spend about two weeks working on an Arizona Highways photo assignment spread out over a couple of months. I like to do my research on the spot. I’ll find the local watering hole and introduce myself, and describe what I’m doing. Then the locals steer me to the memorable characters in their town. Other times, I just bump into them.”
Zickl can turn a simple portrait into art by paying attention to the details of lighting and composition. Moreover, he creates compelling scenarios around his subjects by incorporating interesting environments that reveal the essence of the person. Zickl’s mastery of putting people at ease in familiar surroundings allows them to shed facades and inhibitions, exposing themselves honestly to his camera.
“I enjoy the act of making photographs and interacting with my subjects,” says Zickl. “A glance, a gesture, an emotion, an expression of someone who has opened themselves up to me. The final image is a constant reminder of that experience.”
Zickl’s portrait of Juanita Bastian served as the opening spread for our September 2004 story about Kingman, and provided one of Zickl’s most memorable experiences.
He tells the tale: “My assistant, Dawn Kish, and I set up to shoot the neon sign outside the Kingman Lounge at dusk. Unfortunately, when the light came on, part of it was burned out and it just said ‘King.’ Disappointed and tired, we packed up and went inside for a beer. It was karaoke night and Juanita was there to sing. Totally awesome gal.”
Zickl asked Juanita if he could make her portrait. They agreed to meet the next day. “We picked her up at her house, and she sang Patsy Cline songs to me as we drove to the shoot in her old Lincoln,” Zickl recalls.
No wonder Zickl loves his job. “I wasn’t cut out for a desk job,” he admits. “My cousin, George L. Zickl III, is a fashion photographer, and he introduced me to photography when I was 19. I dropped out of the college where I was studying business and enrolled at the Southeast Center for Photographic Studies in Florida.”
Later, he worked as an assistant for Annie Leibovitz, Bruce Davidson and several photographers with Magnum Photos. But Zickl credits National Geographic photographer Michael O’Brien, whom he assisted for many years, as his biggest influence.
These influential photographers stretched his photographic style and helped him develop his approach to his work. He prefers using his Hasselblad 2¼-inch-square format camera, 80 mm lens and Fujichrome Provia 100 film and rarely shoots digital. “Film is still the ultimate storage medium,” he explains.
Zickl approached the “A Day With the Dead” assignment a bit differently.
“I knew I wanted to shoot it in black and white to bring dark and dramatic mood to the portraits, so I bought some 4×5 black-and-white Polaroid film and brought my view camera in addition to my Hasselblad. It was raining that day, so the turnout was nil and the dining aspect turned out to be one hot dog vendor.”
So Zickl ad-libbed.
“A group of girls from Tucson came to put on a fashion show and to dance and role play in some small skits,” says Zickl. “Most were dressed in black, so I worked them into my scenes. A few family members showed up to place flowers and reflect on their lost loved ones. I photographed whoever was available.”
Demonstrating his knack for building images even from the scraps of a story, Zickl weaves loose threads into harmonious compositions.
Renowned photographer Joel Meyerowitz observed: “You fill up the frame with feelings, energy, discovery and risk, and leave room enough for someone else to get in there.”
In David Zickl’s case, his photographs leave room enough for all of us.
by Peter Ensenberger, director of photography
Used with permission from Arizona Highways
