Christopher Springmann photographed Georgia O’Keeffe at her Abiquiú and Ghost Ranch homes in New Mexico for America Illustrated in September 1974. Enjoy his collection of photos and learn more on his website.
“The Iconic Spiral OK Pin”, photography
I knocked on the big wooden door, surrounded by thick adobe walls—no doorbell or house number. The door opened. There she stood, smiling. “You must be Christopher,” she said. “Yes, and you’re definitely Georgia.” She laughed, motioning me into her living room. “This is my favorite place. Your timing is perfect. I love the light, color, warmth, and especially sitting under Sandy’s (Alexander Calder’s) beautiful mobile.”
“Sitting in the Light, Color, and Texture”, photography
I started shooting. With each click, she repositioned herself slightly. “You’re a joy to photograph— you’ve done this before!” She leaned in, nodding, “Oh yes, dear Christopher, a few times . . .” (since 1917, starting with eventual husband Alfred Stieglitz).
“Skulls are Very Lively”, photography
This image and others have acquired a life of their own, as collector prints and in books, including the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum exhibit and catalog Georgia O’Keeffe and Her Houses: Abiquiú and the Ghost Ranch.
“Walking the Chow Chows at Chimney Rock”, photography
“I found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn’t say in any other way.” – Georgia O’Keeffe
“In the Midst of Chamisa at Sundown”, photography
We drove to her 12-acre Ghost Ranch house and studio, with a 22,000-acre “front yard” and endless vistas. Georgia’s collaboration delighted me, but my editor needed an establishing shot of her in the landscape. So . . . “Could we take a walk, please?” She called her companion, “Juan, we’re taking a hike. Please bring the dogs!” Not just any dogs—Chow Chows, ready to run, in Chimney Rock’s shadow.
“In the Shadow of Chimney Rock”, photography
As we walked to the parking area, Georgia picked up stones, saving some in her big pockets, discarding others. As I left, she reached out, palm down. I responded, palm up. She placed a small black stone in my hand. “How sweet, thank you,” I said. She replied, “Maybe it’ll bring you luck?” I looked at the stone, then back at her. “It already has.” She clasped her hands together, joyfully, stepped back, and slowly turned to go home. I still have that stone.
“Sunlight Under the Veranda”, photography
I watched until she disappeared into the land she loved, painted, and shared so graciously with me, now with everyone who sees these memorable photographs.
Christopher Springmann invites you to follow him on LinkedIn, Facebook and Instagram.