Jason Sandford
Jason Sandford is a reporter, writer, blogger and photographer interested in all things Asheville.
Steve Dixon stalked shots.
The Asheville Citizen-Times photographer for 27 years, who died Saturday at age 61, hunted his pictures like a well-trained sniper. Once he had a subject in mind, he’d wait patiently for just the right moment, or return to a scene over and over to be sure he got the shot he wanted.
I worked with Steve for about 14 years. At one point I was his supervisor, which was kind of silly, because Steve was the guy I looked to for photo advice, and the guy I looked up to in general.
At work, Steve didn’t say much. He didn’t have to. He let his camera do the talking. That, and the “No Whining” button he often wore on his trademark hat. When Steve did talk, I listened. I was always waiting for a compliment on one of my photographs – if I scored that, I knew I was doing something right. If I was on an assignment, I wanted Steve’s photos to illustrate my story.
I knew little about Steve outside of work. He had an appreciation for travel, and visited France on several occasions. (He was conversant in French.) He would always have the Tour de France up on television at work when that time of year came around. And when I lived and worked in Germany for a couple of years, Steve talked about coming to visit, but we never quite made it happen.
Steve made several trips out West to photograph landscapes in Yosemite, just like one of his heroes, Ansel Adams. He came back with amazing work.
Steve appreciated a good beer. He drove a black sports car for years. He and his son were very involved in Boy Scouts. He loved the mountains of Western North Carolina, and he had a special fondness for the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.
But Steve’s driving passion was his photography. He knew all the makes and models of cameras, like any shutterbug. He also had a technician’s knowledge of shutter and lens, light and shadow, film and jpeg. Steve’s art stemmed from his incredible technical ability. In recent years, Steve hauled around a big, old-fashioned view camera to shoot landscapes on 4×5- or 6×9-inch film, then develop it and print it up at home. He’d shoot skies, mountains, churches. He saw potential everywhere.
Here’s an example, from Steve’s website, stevedixonphotos.com. This is what Steve wrote about a beautiful photograph of a tree he shot:
This was one of the first images I made when I returned to the view camera after many years’ absence. I had seen this tree on the side of a dirt road next to a corn field near the airport, and thought I’d go back when there might be an interesting sky. One evening when it looked promising I made the drive, set up in the corn stubble, and waited. As the sun set, the beautiful clouds I’d seen from town dissipated, leaving only the most tenacious. It’s not the super-dramatic image I had pre-visualized (always dangerous to do that), but a more subtle, somewhat enchanting photo nonetheless. The tree’s still there – maybe I’ll go back this winter.
Here’s Steve again, talking about a stunning shot from Yosemite:
There are times when a photo seems to seek out the photographer rather than the other way around. I woke up a bit later than usual at Yosemite, and there was a line at the shower, so I decided to skip that and eat breakfast. As I arrived at the cafeteria, about a hundred middle school kids were in line ahead of me, so I decided to go look around. I drove over to Ahwahnee meadow, remembering the dogwoods I had seen in bloom the day before. When I parked the car, I saw this band of ground fog lying across the meadow. I set up the camera, and just as I was ready, the sun hit the grove of spring-green trees, lighting them up like fireworks. I shot four frames and changed lenses for a tighter shot, which is on another page. I couldn’t help thinking that if the showers had been available, or the line for breakfasthad been shorter, I would have missed this photo altogether. I don’t think I have thephilosophical or theological depth to understand why these things happen, but I’m truly thankful.
I’m saddened by Steve’s death, but comforted by the photos he left behind. Like any great photographer/artist, Steve made me see steeples, trees and trails around Western North Carolina in a new way. His view gave me a greater appreciation for what we already know is most valuable – our family, friends and surroundings.
Sweet Steve. I can close my eyes and hear his voice…his kindness to a troubled girl in the early '70s. Edwin, Betsy, my sister, Pam, playing bridge, much laughter and sarcasm…parties and beer…lots of beer. Steve working at the camera store and dreaming of being a paid photographer. He did it paid or not and did it very well. I went to NYC to have some 'work' done back in '01 and showed the Dr. a 30 year old picture Steve had taken of me, his first response was 'what a fabulous picture'…his second was a gentle laugh and comment that he couldn't turn back the clock that far. After leaving NC in the late '70s I ran into Steve in a plane from Asheville to Charlotte after my father's funeral in 1998. It was like no time had passed. Over a beer in a airport bar I learned of the deep love and pride he had of his family…shared pictures and memories and e-mail addresses. After my sister's death I stopped e-mailing but took pleasure remembering him every so often. I knew he was doing well with a full, meaningful life. He was an fine man. The mountains won't be the same without him.
Steve Dixon was a terrific photojournalist. He was superb in his craft. I am proud to have worked with him early on at the Citizen-Times. He was a fine person. My condolences to his family and friends.
Jay Banks
I'm still terribly sad about Steve's passing. I loved working with him and knew that if he was assigned to shoot art for one of my stories I'd end up with something great.
When I shot my own assignments I often found myself wondering how Steve would shoot it.
I remember working with him to illustrate a story former C-Ter Amy Miller was writing on inappropriate student-teacher relationships. It was fun to watch him work. He was a true professional. And once on a winding drive out to Lake Lure to photograph the HGTV Dream Home, the autocross driver in him was just bursting to get out.
He will be missed.
A. Rodriguez
Steve liked Coors, the Banquet Beer. He always kept the mini fridge in his garage stocked with Coors and set at a frigid temperature. He once told me that drinking light beer was "a waste of time." I always appreciated that. He also stored film in the same fridge because it was near his darkroom.
Steve also liked to play guitar. He had a beautiful Gibson acoustic guitar that I picked on a little when I was at his house. One evening, I brought my Guild over and we jammed with his wife Susie on some Beatles tunes. It was a very peaceful experience.
Steve also liked to bicycle. He, I and a couple other friends rode the Hilly Hellacious a few years back and Steve, being twice my age, completely humbled me on those mountain roads.
God I miss him.
Steve was a professional and a great guy . He is missed. Karen Cragnolin
Much like Kathi Peterson, my exposure to Steve was limited to having him come out to MANNA on assignment. I recall the first time I met him, being struck as a man who reminded of my father in his approach to photo journalism, as somewhat of a throw back. His work spoke for itself and his passion for detail and capturing and captivating was evident in most every piece. WNC will miss him.
What a nice tribute, Jason. Thanks for sharing.
Steve was an example I wish I could live up to, as an artist, technician and person. He was extremely bright and gentle and never made a false move. Having known him and worked with him for many years was a gift and a blessing. Rest in peace, Steve. You are truly loved.
I had the pleasure of working with Steve on "Chef's Table", a book on local restaurants we published when I was at the ACT. Food is terribly difficult to photograph, but Steve made it look easy. A real pro. He will be deeply missed.
Jeff Green, Publisher, Winston-Salem Journal.
I (like everyone I believe who worked with Steve) loved the man for his kindness and thoughtfulness and gentleness. His professionalism, his calmness, his damned fine photography. His particular brand of humor.
Steve and I spent a week together working on a series of stories in Oklahoma about the Cherokee Nation's ties to the Eastern Band. A good friendship grew even closer then. I remember watching him work and work and work on getting the light just right, the angle just right, the timing just right. It was a terrific lesson on doing things RIGHT from a pro, and an invaluable lesson in patience and attention to detail for this often impetuous reporter.
I will miss him. A lot. The newspaper will miss him. A lot. We are poorer without Steve Dixon in our lives, and without his photographs gracing the pages of the Asheville Citizen-Times.
I'm not clear on when the services will be – this coming Saturday seems indicated from Barbara's story in the newspaper? Quintin Ellison
I remember many times waiting for a C-T photographer to show up for a story — never knowing who would be assigned. Always loved it when that little black sportscar convertible zoomed in, driven by a man wearing that signature hat. (I honestly don't know if I ever saw Steve without a hat on, and I knew him for 20+ years!) Seeing Steve drive up meant two things: (1) We'd get a great shot and (2) Doing so would be a completely pleasant and seemingly effortless experience.
61 is much too young. his photos are striking.
Well written, Jason.
Well said, Jason.
I only knew Steve briefly during my tenure at the AC-T, but he was always supportive of those who tried to get both the stories and the images right. You could tell that meant a lot to him and that meant a lot to me.
As I can tell from your post, he will be missed by many who were lucky to call him both a colleague and a friend.
– Jonathan Rich