Simply put, Ansel was burned out: the muse of inspiration had vanished. And he knew it, confessing to Beaumont and Nancy in 1952 that making photographs had become a bore.1 He had come to believe that all artists moved through these stages—rise, plateau, and descent—and he saw himself as being in the final phase. He thought that perhaps he had accomplished all he could and it was now time, at the age of fifty, to follow another path, as had been the case twenty-five years earlier with his musical career.2 As the 1950s progressed into the 1960s, Ansel turned his still-considerable energies to writing, making portfolios, consulting, and teaching. Commercial assignments did not require the inner spark so crucial to his creative work, and they continued to supply his basic income.3 From 1949 until the end of his life, working as a consultant for the Polaroid Corporation kept him busy and gainfully, if but part-time, employed.4 Ansel and Polaroid’s founder, Edwin Land, developed a mutual admiration society.
