CLYDE BUTCHER I first met Clyde Butcher in 1996 at his gallery in the swamp at Ochopee, Florida. Like many before me, I was driving from Naples on the old highway when I caught a glimpse of the simple black and white sign advertising"The Big Cypress Gallery" Strolling inside, I was taken aback at first by the large, stark black and white photographs of a countryside that I had come to see as bright, brilliant and extraordinarily colorful. But, the photographs were awesome and the man himself was mesmerizing. I quickly fell in love with both and resolved to learn more about the photographs and the man behind them. That chance meeting eventually led to the opportunity to show his work at a new gallery my wife and I were opening in Key Largo and, to the wonderful opportunity to help share Clyde's vision with the many who pass through our gallery. In a way, we've become one of Clyde's missionaries. His work is always on display at The Gallery at Kona Kai and his photographs never fail to bait the casual visitor or serious collector into a conversation about saving some part of our precious state. Clyde's vision of preserving the naturaI beauty of Florida is contagious. After fishing the Florida Keys flats any number of times with guides Barry Vich and Billy Wert, I began to feel that the beauty of the backcounrty needed to be seen and understood by more than the few lucky enough to fish it. While visitors to the Keys are constantly being shuttled out to "the reef," as far as the bay went, it was simply seen as where the sun disappeared. I wanted people to understand the fragile beauty that was out there at every turn and on every flat. But, how to do that without turning those same flats into another overcrowded tourist mecca? How to do that while preserving the spawning and fishing grounds and the tranquility that one experiences while poling around a mangrove patch or simply sitting and waiting for the right moment to cast a newly hand tied fly? Clyde and his camera became the obvious answer and our friendship proved enough to entice him out on a backcountry flats boat. That's when Clyde and I met AI. Like so many, Albert Wells had retired to the Florida Keys with the requisite all purpose boat; too much draft for the shallowest of flats and not enough for the challenges of the ocean outside the reef. But just enough to carry the not so small Clyde, his 100+ pounds of equipment and me. Al had wandered into the gallery one afternoon when Clyde was visiting. Admiring the photographs on the wall was enough to get Al's heart beating faster, but meeting Clyde was all it took for Al to offer his boat and his days to help search the backcountry bays for the magic that only Clyde could capture. |
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