I awoke this morning to a very sad message from my friend Sandi. She had FaceBook’d me to tell me that legendary photographer Charles Moore had passed away. His iconic civil rights images which were published in newspapers and ultimately LIFE magazine and are justly credited with playing a major role in raising the national outrage toward the treatment of blacks in the segregated South.
Several years ago, I had the great fortune thanks to my friends Sandi and John to spend the better part of day and a half with Charles discussing his life and work. He welcomed me into his head, his heart, and his home and took me on an emotional journey that I will never forget and from which I will remain forever inspired.
As a small tribute to the great visual artist and man, I thought I would reprint and article that I wrote for the Knoxville News Sentinel shortly after I met and visited with Charles. Here is that article.
Rest in peace Charles Moore!






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Images as implements of change
by BRYAN ALLEN, February 24, 2008
Can a photograph change the world? A few years ago, LIFE Books published a book titled “100 Photographs That Changed the World,” which pondered just that question and presented 100 iconic images to make their case. I have not read the book, but as a photographer, I have certainly considered the premise of the book. For me, the answer is an unequivocal yes! I hold that images provoke and alter human thoughts and that thoughts are powerful things. Thoughts continuously influence us and impact our actions both consciously and unconsciously. If an image can change the thoughts of enough people or the right people at the right place and time, then I would contend that an image can indeed change the world.
So, who then, is Charles Moore? Moore is a photographer who captured one of the 100 iconic images selected by LIFE for the book. His image, titled “Birmingham 1963,” depicts three young blacks, two males and one female, being pummeled against a brick building by a high pressure blast of water. That image, along with many more of Moore’s images from those tumultuous days in Birmingham, was published in LIFE, which at the time was read by over 50 percent of the adult population in the United States. As a result, many credit Moore’s vivid imagery with elevating the county’s social awareness and repulsion toward the ongoing treatment of blacks in the South and ultimately influencing the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
Truth be told, I didn’t know Moore, at least not by name. But, when one of my best friends gave me a copy of his book, “Powerful Days,” for my 40th birthday, I immediately recognized his images. After thumbing through the book and examining some of the incredible shots, my friend pointed me to the inside cover, where I discovered Moore had signed the book and written me a note encouraging me to continue to pursue my photographic passions. “Wow, what a gift,” I exclaimed. However, there was more. My friend then informed me that he had arranged for me to actually spend a day simply hanging out with the legendary photographer at his home in Florence, Ala.
My delight quickly transformed to anxiety as I contemplated spending a day in the presence of such a legendary and influential photographer. All kinds of thoughts and questions raced through my head.
Eventually I managed to get a grip on my own thoughts and set about researching Moore’s work and life. Of course, I read “Powerful Days” multiple times and studied his images intently. I also examined his extensive work covering other conflicts around the world. Finally, I canvassed my photography peers and mentors as to questions they would ask if presented with this same opportunity. Soon enough the big day came and, now confident in my preparation and convinced this opportunity had come my way for some purpose, I was off to meet Charles Moore. Nothing could have prepared me for the actual encounter.
Though we were not scheduled to meet with Moore until the next day, my friend and I had decided to visit a local gallery in Florence, where some of his work was on display. To our surprise and delight, in walked Moore. Impromptu introductions followed and then came a most memorable handshake. Moore is wiry, passionate, energetic and a former athlete who’s still in great physical shape for his age. His handshake is, as you would expect, firm and strong. However, the surprise is that he doesn’t let go so quickly. He tends to hold on to your hand, jerk you around by the arm a bit, and even turn you in a circle sometimes before releasing. When Moore agreed to accompany us to a coffee shop for a snack and a chat, I quickly found out that his handshake very much mirrors his communication style.
As we talked and I began to ask questions, Moore’s answers were seldom short or direct. Instead they were often fascinating trips through time and place, taking many turns and twists, but complete with vivid recollection of every detail of situational context, social climate, and technical detail. Eventually, he would come back to the initial question and answer it point blank. But getting there was often like enduring his handshake.
Moore was gracious, candid, unguarded and unscripted with me. We spent hours in that coffee shop and then spent nearly the entire next day together. He invited me into his home and his basement, which serves as veritable national archive of decades of work. Moore spent hours with me recounting the details of print after print. Images were printed and lying or hanging all about. He would simply pick a framed or mounted print from a stack or take one that I selected and go back in time, narrating the image capture as if we were right back in that place and time.
While I could have relished in this experience for weeks, it was clearly emotionally draining on Moore. By the afternoon, we decided to grab a late lunch at a local diner. At the diner, I summoned the nerve to ask one of the big questions I had been waiting to ask: “Where were you when you received word of Dr. King’s assassination?” He managed to communicate that he was not with Martin Luther King that day. His recounting of that day was cut short, though, as he was moved to tears and could barely go on. His girlfriend stepped in to change the mood, but in that instant, I had my answer to that question and so many more. Moore once stated in an interview, “I fight with my camera.” This conviction was palpable in my time with him.
I’m not sure why this opportunity presented itself to me. The universe has not yet revealed its plan to me. I remain convinced, however, that there was a reason for it. Maybe the simple act of writing this article and bringing some small amount of attention to this great photographer and his work will start some ripple of impact. Who among us can know mystery? One thing I know for sure though is that meeting Charles Moore changed me and convinced me that a photograph can indeed change the world.
Bryan Allen began his love affair with photography at age 7, when he bought his first camera. He is a part-time professional photographer with a passion for capturing people and their stories. The Virginia native and his wife, Brooke, and their daughter, Harper, live in Knoxville. He works for the E.W. Scripps Company
© 2008, Knoxville News Sentinel Co.
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by Bryan Allen
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