Bill’s photos are powerful in part because he had a knack for catching moments—the split-second expression on a face, the bustle of a busy street, the shadows on a wall. His photos are not just beautifully composed, but imbued with his curiosity, empathy, and sometimes humor. And they are powerful because of his story as well. Bill took these photos just before, during, and after his combat tour as a U.S. Army officer during the Vietnam War. Almost none of them reference the war itself, but they shouldn’t be confused with escapism. Rather, they reflect a young man’s awe of the world and the people inhabiting it -- an awe that perhaps served as a meditation and a balm during a season of turbulence and disconnection. Finally, they are powerful because, within Bill’s lifetime, the places where he traveled have irrevocably transformed. His photos from Afghanistan predate both the Russians and the Taliban, and show a vibrant, joyful, beautiful place that deserves to be resurrected after too many decades of war. He has a whole batch of photos from what was then known as Ceylon, a place still in the process of transitioning out of colonialism—now present-day Sri Lanka. For most of the places he photographed, if you visited these cities now, and stood where he stood, there would probably be a Starbucks and a McDonald’s visible in your shot. He was developing film in a darkroom; now we live in a world with VR and 3D art. His photos remind us of how profoundly the world has changed just within one lifetime, and that we can’t even imagine what the world will look like in another 50 years. The question is not whether the change is for better or for worse—we simply marvel at the passage of time and the way Bill captured it as it rushed by like the river in India, the canal in Venice, or the boats in Vietnam.
