Feature
When Men and Mountains Meet
The Photographer – Ian Evans
Continuing Irvine Butterfield’s short stories of mountain folk, this is the first in a five part series about those who have built their lives around the mountains
“ Many people come,
Looking, looking, taking picture,
Too many people ..
No Good,
Some people come, see - Good “
The quote highlighted was made by Dawa Tensing Sherpa, a pivotal member of pre- and post-war British expeditions to Everest who was honoured by The Queen for his contribution to the team’s success in 1953. Dawa retired to a modest home near Thyangboche in the Khumbu region of Nepal and it was here, during his first visit to the Himalayas in 1977 that an impressionable Ian Evans met this visionary Sherpa who would, in years to come, provide not only the inspiration for Ian’s photography, but also a very different philosophy on life itself. It was the influence of those words remembered, and the images contained within the book of the same title by the late Galen Rowell that were to inspire Ian to return to the Himalaya time and time again.
This interest in mountains and photography seems a far remove from his native heath. Having been born a Scouser and raised and educated in that great city of Liverpool, his interests might have well have centred on urban pursuits. Ian confesses that during his formative years he had absolutely no interest in mountains whatsoever, although he was a keen sportsman and played rugby and cricket at school and at club level. His main interest was in music and as this was the time of “Merseybeat” in the early sixties, much of his spare time was spent playing guitar in a Liverpool group.
It was only when he married Shiela and set up home in North Wales that weekend excursions into the Principality first awakened an interest in walking. His first “walk” was on a miserable wet February morning in 1972 when friends took him to Llyn Idwal in Snowdonia. Having no outdoor gear, he got totally soaked. But as the party drove away, Tryfan briefly appeared out of the mist, and Ian was so moved by its striking outline that he wanted to return and see more. The hills had made their first impact on a receptive mind.
Triggered initially by curiosity, this new interest led to further visits with climbing mountains very much a regular feature of every available weekend and holiday, firstly in Snowdonia, then the Lake District and The Highlands. As with so many aspirant hill goers of his generation, he learnt everything as he went along, steadily acquiring the gear he needed, with the books of W.A.Poucher one of the few mountain guidebooks available in those days acting as guide and mentor.
Poucher’s black and white guidebooks were not only a great help in route finding, but were also an inspiration to any aspirant photographer. Indeed, Ian openly admits that the work of Poucher provided a solid foundation for his understanding of mountain form, and the choice of viewpoint and camera angle. Ian’s initial efforts were poorly rewarded as his camera had a faulty meter, and as many a novice was to discover, over exposure seriously affects the results! Tenacity and experimentation would eventually repay his efforts as the enduring charm of mountains grew ever stronger, and would, in time, become the very hallmark of his definitive photographic style.
By 1975, Ian’s thoughts had turned to distant horizons, and for many an Alpine apprenticeship would have been the obvious way forward. But this was the beginning of an adventurous era of exploration in the Greater Himalaya and the newly re-opened Karakoram, and Ian’s interest was inextricably drawn to the stunning images that were filling the pages of the mountaineering magazines. Enthused and entranced by what he read, Ian set out on a course that was to have a profound effect upon the rest of his life.
And so it was in 1977 that he found himself at Thyangboche, a member of a small trekking group and within sight of Everest for the first time. As Ian recalls it was not a good trip as he suffered from altitude sickness, although this was to prove the one and only time. In those days trekking was a pretty basic affair, with none of the luxuries one expects today, the whole expedition running to a very tight and inflexible schedule. Returning home, Ian felt that little had been achieved and he was not encouraged to go back. But impressions far greater than he recognised had been made by both mountains and people, and in more relaxed moments of reflection he realised that his eyes had been opened to something new.
The mountains were not to be denied and Ian did decide to go back again as a client on several other trekking trips. The spell of the Himalaya was now well and truly cast, and from then on it was to be roughly one trip every year. In 1986, Ian drew together a small group of friends, and invited them to take part in a photographic reconnaissance of the Everest region which was to culminate in an ascent of the then relatively unknown Island Peak (20,540 ft). Encouraged by the success of this trip and by the positive responses of his new found companions, he decided to try again and, drawing on the experience of trekking pioneers Jimmy Roberts and Robin Marston, organised several ground-breaking treks and climbs to lesser known corners of the Nepal Himalaya.
I was once to experience something of these successes myself when I joined Ian on a photographic trip to the Everest region. Sadly I got mountain sickness just one day short of Base camp, but I still witnessed something of the enthusiasm for his craft and the pleasure given to others attempting to capture their own images. Ian always took a lot of trouble to ensure that everyone got a chance to get the best angle and composition possible - me included.
Amidst this busy period of Himalayan exploration with ventures to Pakistan, Sikkim, Bhutan and Tibet, Ian landed a job in the Highlands and moved base to Fort William in 1981. At the time it seemed a dream come true; what more could a mountaineering photographer wish for than to have such a wealth of riches on one’s own doorstep? Sadly work commitments dictated otherwise and, disappointed at this lost opportunity, he moved to Lochmaben in Dumfriesshire. Accepting that the area was not as scenic as the Highlands, he did, however, calculate that all the major mountain areas of the UK were within striking distance, and that with more time at his disposal his skills could be given free rein.
A developing interest in sharing his images with others, combined with his musical background, resulted in experimentation with sound and vision when Ian started to produce audio visual presentations. As a consequence of exposing his material to a wider audience, he was encouraged to take some pictures to a printer in Fort William. An image that Ian called “Ben Nevis in Winter Raiment” prompted the printer to remark “you should try to sell that here in Fort William”. It was an astute and prophetic observation, for everyone in Fort William seemed to think that this was the defining image of their mountain. The first print run of 3000 sold out in 6 months; it has sold more than 40,000 copies and still sells today. In 1983, the success of this and subsequent prints gave birth to Ian’s business Mountain Images and finally, in 1996, the opportunity to work at his photography full time.
A similar image was to become the cover of one of my own successful books, “The Magic of the Munros”; it proved to be an inspirational choice as the book was instantly selected and short listed for the British Book of the Year Award in 2000. Ian was also instrumental in putting together an audio visual to promote the book, and together we took it on a countrywide tour. However, the real show stealer was his Himalayan presentation “Endless Horizons, Eternal Summits” whose powerful imagery of the world’s 8000 metre peaks set to expressive accompanying music was to be described in the most superlative terms.
Despite these presentational skills, Ian remains somewhat reclusive, happy to be alone in the mountains seeking to capture them from new and different angles, in different lights and different moods. He loves the sense of wilderness, and freedom, and heaven to Ian is being in some remote corner of Snowdonia or the Scottish Highlands at dawn or dusk in perfect weather with his camera for company, shutter primed ready to capture the mood of the mountains.
A dedication to originality and quality are his guiding principles and one quickly learns that, for Ian, good is not good enough … he is his own harshest critic… it has to be the best. It is not surprising to hear from time to time that he is recently returned from some pre-dawn expedition to a chosen viewpoint in anticipation of good early morning light. But forecasts are not always accurate and many repeat visits involving long overnight journeys may be in prospect before the final image is considered to be to his satisfaction.
The advent of digital photography has improved Ian’s ability to get new images into the public domain; a new shot can be recorded in the morning and for sale as a print that same afternoon. But despite the other powerful capabilities that digital media has to offer, Ian stubbornly refuses to resort to any kind of image manipulation. He holds firm in the belief that nature creates its own spectacular displays of colour and effect, and it just needs an observant and skilful photographer with a sound knowledge of his subject to convert a good view into a stunning image.
Even today, 35 years on from the day he took those first tentative steps into the mountains, Ian’s fascination remains much as it was. There is no ambition simply to “bag” peaks. He is dedicated to seeking out fresh images of the mountains and using them to show others how wonderful yet fragile and vulnerable our areas of wilderness have become. In this respect, Mountain Images is not only a commercial outlet for Ian’s material but also a vehicle by which he actively encourages others to enjoy and protect the mountains through an appreciation of their scale and beauty.
Ian considers himself very lucky – without that chance meeting all those years ago, things could have been so radically different. He has unreserved affection for his Sherpa friends in Nepal whom he claims have taught him the true value of the mountain experience and who are the motivation for sharing a love of the mountains with others and encouraging them to do the same. The inspirational thoughts of Dawa Tensing, and a lifetime spent within the shadows of the very highest peaks of all, have led Ian to advocate a principle very similar to that of his illustrious mentor - “Mountains should be icons of beauty, not objects of conquest”.