BOB CHAMBERLAIN - eight lives to go
The risks of this world were seen through a lens of Buddhism.
“Bob passed away today…RIP”
This was the text I got two days ago.
Bob Chamberlain was one of the first people I met when I arrived in Aspen sixty two years ago.
We were both beginning to learn about images,
He was as close a friend as I had through those early days of the 1960s
Bob was sarcastic with a wry sense of humor. He moved smoothly, with precision, and he photographed that way too. He was a very good photographer.
For years, in Aspen and San Francisco he was my photography compatriot, we shared explorations of uncertain artistic terrain. “Ryan”, he always called me, “Chamberlain”, I always called him. That feigned formality that develops between close friends. We were the same age
We skied together. He was the best back country powder skier I knew, but he often departed alone on secretive excursions beyond the boundaries to find unexplored terrain. Risky business. For Bob, much of the risks of this world were seen through a lens of Buddhism.
That text proclaiming Bob’s demise had come from Don McKinnon who lives in the southern islands of Florida, 2,210 miles from Colorado but somehow keeps up on everything happening in and around Aspen, at least about all our acquaintances from our days there years ago. He said that Carter Jon, who had been helping Bob recently, sent the word that he passed away.
It was understandable.
For the last eight years Bob had been living in Carbondale in an assisted living home, and though he maintained his acute mental perception, he had declined into an inactive and unhealthy physicality.
I immediately fell into a pit of regret and introspection. We were going to do this, talk about that, go there. Procrastinated plans whose possibility suddenly evaporated.
I live in California, some thousand miles from Colorado, and far from most of our mutual friends. Although painful, it’s good to know right away of the demise of those we were close to. So I dug into my own photographs from long ago and sent a bunch off with words to people we knew. The only upside of friends dying is it is often a catalyst for curing neglected communication.
To Edgar, Dede, Travis, in Aspen. We had all talked often of making the trip to see Bob in Carbondale. To Lito, and Linde further across the Rockies, or maybe now in Chile. He had recently put together the memoir book of Bob’s words and photographs. (no one, especially me, knew that Bob was such a vivid writer) To Maude in Santa Barbara, Roger in New York….
And then… and then…. I got another text from Don:
“Bob didn’t pass away, Carter sent a confusing message.”
“Carter seems out of sorts recently”
So it turns out Bob is fine, at least the same as he was, in his Carbondale abode. With many books on Chaos Theory and Plato still to read and stories of his photographs to talk about.
Well, I guess we all still have the time to connect. The confusion of long distance communication.
As Mark Twain wrote upon an erroneous newspaper article announcing his passing:
“The report of my death was an exaggeration.
Maybe we all should plan a festive Irish Wake for ourselves and our friends while we are still here.
Greatly enjoyed your semi memorial to Bob. I was not aware that he was still with us....so was shocked at your opening paragraphs. He was a good friiend when he lived here in Telluride.....and gifted me his Leitz enlarger for my darkroom when he left. Great to see he is still circulating....so few of us left. S
💕