“Awed by the subtleties of nature, Richard H. Marx took great pains to entice the moments he saw onto film. In doing so, he created a remarkably inspired collection of photographs which have been preserved and greatly cherished by his family. However, he meant for his pictures to be shared.

Dad developed his own negatives and enlarged his own prints. We could sit next to him for hours in the dark as he swished photos back and forth, cycling through the trays. Every so often, at a moment only he seemed to anticipate, an image sprang to life. When he was satisfied, you knew it. But often, after some slight adjustment, the lights went out and he would try again. In the end, his discerning eye allowed him to mount only those prints possessing precisely what he sought to reveal.

Yet the prints contained herein are but a small fraction of his complete collection; space limitations forced difficult choices. These prints were lovingly selected to illustrate both the sensitivity with which he approached his craft and the astounding range of his work. Each is a gift in its own right.

An assiduous notetaker, Dad carefully logged his equipment settings and chemical choices. In respect of the considerable care and attention evident in his handwritten notes, all such text is included as a corresponding endnote. Titles provided are also his own.

What photographers perceive often transcends what is seen through the lens. On page 302 of his copy of “The Language of Nature” (David Hawkins, 1964), Dad underlined the following passage:

“For nature does not transmit articulated little messages, but a simultaneous variety in many dimensions. Perception achieves a selective inattention to all but a small part of this variety.”

Selective inattention was no doubt essential to the way Dad perceived what reached his eyes – via telescope, microscope, or through the camera lens. In his prints, he sought to draw the eye to that layer of beauty which captured him in the instant of shutter release. When looking into his prints, I cannot help but see the brilliance of our world – and of the artist on the other side of the viewfinder.

At the age of 47, Dad lost a long stoic battle with cancer, leaving Mom to finish raising the three of us and to make a life for herself without him. Still, more than 25 years later, the mark he left on his family and friends remains indelible. We remember his passion for philosophy, astronomy, art, medicine, music, and mathematics. We remember his lightning quick wit, his gentle nature, and his faith in fairness and honesty. Most of all, we remember his kindness, devotion, and love for family. His memory remains a blessing for us all.

Richard H. Marx didn’t really take photographs, he gave them.

So it would delight him immensely to know you are enjoying his gifts today.”

January 2000 / E. J. Marx