Celebrate Black History Month: Capturing the soul of local Pulitzer Prize winning photographer Matthew Lewis Jr.
{All Photos Courtesy of Grace Kanoy}
This image was taken by Matthew Lewis Jr. at the March on Washington in 1963. Burt Lancaster, Harry Belafonte, Marlon Brando, Joseph Mankiewicz, James Baldwin and Sidney Poitier greet each other at the event.
With jazz-like syncopation stirring in his soul, Pulitzer Prize-winning photographer Matthew Lewis Jr. was determined to create magic with his hands. He tried his luck with music, playing the clarinet, alto and tenor saxophones, he even tried sandblasting in a Pittsburgh steel foundry. It was the heartbreak of losing his first wife to cancer that led him back to his grandfather’s photography studio and the camera.
“I can see emotion through the lens and I have to capture that moment,” he says, eyes closed and mimicking the motion of the instant boom that comes with perfect timing. “When I first started taking pictures I felt so much emotion that my hands would shake, making my pictures blurry.” There, in those spiritual first moments, the destined third generation photographer fell in love with the camera. Eventually his hands steadied, and Lewis and his camera have been telling soulful stories together ever since.
Born in the small town of McDonald, Pennsylvania, young Matthew Lewis Jr. grew up carrying heavy cameras for his grandfather, Harvey James (HJ) Lewis. HJ was the proud son of indentured slaves and a pioneer in early twentieth century photography. He built a studio in 1905, complete with an Eastman Kodak Studio camera and a custom printing machine. HJ established himself as a noted portraitist and leading color photographer.
Lewis’ father, Matthew Sr., also a photographer, worked in the newsroom of the Pittsburgh Courier. His son spent time in that newsroom with his dad, but never imagined himself as a photographer. After varsity football, working on the railroad, and jam sessions with friends, in 1947 the young Lewis began attending Howard University in Washington, D.C., as a music major on a path to becoming the next Jazz legend.
Lewis was quick to confess to failing as a jazzman. After struggling to keep up with the riffs and rhythms of late night sessions in a college dorm room, he packed up his alto saxophone and returned home, never to play it again. He enrolled at the University of Pittsburgh where he studied medicine. Lewis then joined the Navy, serving as a medic, and arrived at Camp Lejeune (in Jacksonville, North Carolina) just before the last soldiers were deployed to the Korean War.
Matthew Lewis Jr. views a negative of a photograph taken in 1959 at Cross Creek Presbyterian Church by his Grandfather, HJ Lewis in celebration of the church’s 180th Anniversary
Lewis credits his aunts for prodding him to apply for a faculty position in the audio-visual department at Morgan State College in Baltimore, Maryland. It was there he met and became captivated with a blind wrestling student’s motivation and challenges. This was a personal photography project. After sharing this work with James Lewis, director of the Morgan State Fine Arts Program, the director arranged a meeting with his good friend, the prolific and world-renowned photographer, writer, composer, and filmmaker, Gordon Parks.
Parks, the first African American photographer for Life Magazine, was legendary among his contemporaries. Parks requested to meet Lewis at New York City’s luxurious Plaza Hotel, the adventurous thirty-three-year-old was speechless. The nascent photographer boarded a bus and headed north to meet his idol. “It took a lot of courage for me to walk in and sit in front of Gordon Parks.”
Parks advised him to switch cameras during assignments, this would challenge his photography skills even further. Parks also complimented Lewis’ work but then encouraged him to trade in his 35-millimeter lens for a longer 200-millimeter. As Lewis remembers him saying, “Your lenses are like your adjectives and adverbs, each one will instantly tell the story you are trying to tell.”
With that advice, Lewis went on to record award-winning photographic moments by freelancing for The Afro-American (Baltimore, MD.), Washington Post, and the Post’s supplement Potomac Magazine. In his assignments, he covered landmark events including John F. Kennedy’s funeral, during which he captured one of the few images of the First Lady, Jacqueline, openly crying.
When his editor at The Afro-American recommended he obtain a press pass to be front and center for the March on Washington in 1963, Lewis declined. He recalls, “I didn’t want one. I am a people person.”
It was from within the crowd, experiencing the cadence of everyday people’s lives, that he was able to capture powerful images, including photos of Jackie Robinson, Harry Belafonte, and James Baldwin casually greeting over handshakes.
Lewis’ work, including a riveting photo-essay about migrant workers, earned him a full-time position as staff photographer at the Washington Post. It was while working for the Post he was able to photograph countless movie stars, presidents, and queens.
Lewis’ images of John Lennon and Yoko Ono in the bedroom of their New York St. Regis Hotel Suite in 1971.
Lewis photographed John Lennon in his New York suite with newlywed bride, Yoko Ono. He spoke of missing his closing on a new home in order to photograph Queen Elizabeth, an image that appeared on the front page of the Washington Post, yet he still criticizes his camera angle on that shot. He also questions why no one asks about the time he bravely photographed a swaying fifteen-foot cobra. “I came eyeball to eyeball,” Lewis insists as he stretches his hands. “Nobody could see the person holding its head.”
In 1975, a feature story color photography portfolio was chosen to win the famed Pulitzer Prize. That portfolio belonged to Matthew Lewis, Jr. He arrived at the Washington Post, where he was told he won the prestigious award, covered in chicken feathers, he'd just come from shooting a profile of Frank Perdue of Perdue Farms.Lewis went on to become assistant managing editor and remained with the Post for twenty five years.
Lewis retired from that position in 1990 to fulfill a promise to his second wife, Jean nine, to return to her hometown of Thomasville, North Carolina. The two had visited the area over the years, and Lewis explained, “I just couldn’t get over the people.” He recalls getting hugs and smiles from strangers. In all of his travels, he had never seen anything like it. He, his wife and their dog, Christie, now live a modest life in Thomasville.
His adoration of the people of Thomasville and his love of photography led him to accept when Sara Sue Ingram (late editor of the Thomasville Times) offered him a position as photographer for the paper. Ingram reminded Lewis of his former colleagues at the Washington Post, and they had an instant synergy.
Of all of his accomplishments, he deems the Thomasville Memorial Day Parade photo calendar his most important annual assignment. He says his heroes are the men and women who have served our country. Having narrowly missed deployment from Camp Lejeune, there is a mist in his eyes when he speaks of his admiration for veterans and their families. Lewis almost didn’t make one parade due to a heart condition and asked his son, Kevin, to assist him in capturing the images, a task he considered his duty. Kevin, the fourth generation photographer, naturally agreed to the project.
People may ask why the iconic award winning photographer, honored by presidents and dignitaries and featured in magazines, newspapers, and on radio and television would agree to accept what may be considered a modest position as a small town newspaper photographer. But if you spend any time talking to Lewis, you will know why. Like his grandfather before him, Lewis is drawn to telling the stories of regular folks, and this is why he continues to capture the images of teachers, school children, and parades in Thomasville.
You can almost hear moderating musical rhythms when you look at Lewis’ photographs. His body of work captures the emotional elements of Blues and Jazz, energetic high notes, lingering low notes, and long soulful arcs of sensitivity seamlessly resound in each of his images.
The one-time musician captures all that emotion through the lens of a camera.
