D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
March 2010
Sonny Hale, Photographing Rock Art
Page: 2"I was completely devastated," says Hale, eyes wide and still shaking his head in disbelief. "That petroglyph meant so much to me — and now it was gone. I immediately made a vow to start taking pictures of as many petroglyphs and pictographs in New Mexico as I could, knowing any one of them could disappear at any time." (Besides theft and vandalism, much such artwork is also lost to weathering: Freeze-thaw cycles slough off chunks of rock, rain stains cliffs with mineral deposits, and sun bleaches away peck marks and pigments.)
At age 65 Hale quit work, sold his backhoe, and headed into the hills and canyons, devoting himself virtually full-time to the documentation of rock art. "I'm not a scientist, anthropologist or archaeologist, and I've never been to a camera school," he says, without apology. This is a man on a mission, notwithstanding his lack of access to fancy equipment or wealthy patrons.
Ninety percent of Hale's photos have been taken with a pocket-sized film camera — he is uncomfortable with digital technology — either hand-held or tripod-mounted. Processing is done at the Walmart in T or C, with large prints made by professionals in Hillsboro or Las Cruces. Even though friends have taken to donating him their old cameras, most of his pictures are still taken on an inexpensive, point-and-shoot Olympus.
"Somehow I had the idea that I could make a living by selling my pictures," says Hale, collapsing into a paroxysm of infectious laughter. "Boy, was I wrong. In fact, tryin' to make money at it kinda gets in the way."
As it turns out, he barely earns enough to cover the cost of making the pictures themselves. A few years ago, Hale opened a tiny, one-room gallery behind the General Store Caf, which also displays some of his work. Occasionally a gallery in the area will show and sell his pictures, which illustrate a line of note- and postcards as well. A few years ago Hale self-published a limited-edition coffee table book, One Man's Quest, that he sells for $120 apiece.
"I just want to do what I want to do," Hale says firmly, "and I think it's worth it." The ongoing project keeps him busy and focused, following a calling that has filled this retiree's life with new meaning. He recalls the admonition of one local resident who insisted Hale was "too old" to pursue such an ambitious goal.
"No," he replied. "Now is when I need one more than any other time. I've seen too many people who say that some day they're going to do something and then they just get too old and can't get out of the bed or the car or the chair or whatever. So I'm going to do this while I still can, for as long as I can."
Hale's obsession eventually caught the eye of Hillsboro photojournalist Jan Haley, who mentioned her neighbor in an article published by New Mexico magazine and later advised Albuquerque cinematographer Erin Hudson, who spent two years making an award-winning documentary about Hale entitled In Place Out of Time. The 45-minute production has screened on PBS affiliate KRWG-TV Las Cruces and at various film festivals. Described as "a poetic portrait," the film follows Hale as he searches far and wide for rock art he has not yet photographed.
The immediate area around Hillsboro, he points out, actually has few petroglyphs, which prompts Hale to sometimes drive hundreds of miles in pursuit of unexplored territory.
"I call him 'the king of the wild frontier,'" jokes Bonita Barlow, a Kingston-based painter. "Sonny is the sweetest man you will ever meet."
Others in the community confirm such assessments, describing Hale as the kind of person who is always willing to lend a helping hand. He, in turn, is convinced he would not be able to survive without the benevolence of Hillsboro's 200 or so residents.
"Sonny is a man who truly follows his heart," Hudson told me in a recent telephone conversation. "He is a fourth-generation New Mexican with a genuine attachment to a place, a landscape, and the memory of those who were here before us. His life isn't easy, but his passion keeps him going."
Hudson's film is surprisingly intimate, showing her unabashed subject grappling with an overdrawn bank account, broken vehicle, uncooperative weather, and high gas prices. Yet Hale seems always to confront every obstacle with a wide grin and disarming guffaw.
"I have a bond — a kinship — with this place," he allows. "Life is so fleeting, and yet these petroglyphs are constant. I know they'll be here after I'm gone, telling their stories and sharing their mysteries. I'm not trying to offend any Indian people in what I do. I just want to try to do justice to as many of their [petroglyphs and pictographs] as I can, for just as long as I can. This is what I live for."
Richard Mahler is a free-lance writer in Silver City, where he leads
walking tours of the historic district. Learn more at www.richardmahler.com
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