Worth a Thousand Words

Warren King wondered if he should get down on his knees and beg. Or make a polite suggestion. Or--dare he try it?--give an order to one of the world’s most powerful men.

On that autumn morning in a Paris airport at the height of World War II, the soft-spoken 19-year-old photographer fretted about how to approach George C. Marshall, the U.S. Army’s chief of staff ultimately responsible for mobilizing 8.2 million soldiers.

With his four-by-five Speed Graphic camera in hand and almost no field experience, King’s stomach churned as the plane landed and the four-star general walked down the stairs toward him.

“You Sgt. King?” he asked.

Without hesitation, King gave the orders, snapped half a dozen photos of Marshall and learned a lesson that he would pass on to thousands of students throughout the decades.

“When you have a camera, you are in charge,” King says.

Over the last 50 years, King has taught photography to more than 16,000 students, many of whom have become successful professionals whose pictures have graced hundreds of magazine covers and received Pulitzer Prize nominations.

Although King retired from teaching high school in 1986, he continues to offer photography lessons at the Reseda Community Adult School and, at age 76, has no plans to quit.

“I’m having too much fun,” says King, whose curious brown eyes belie his gray hair.

That’s good news for his students, some of whom have taken his class for 20 years straight. Others have waited hours in lines snaking two blocks around Reseda High and years on waiting lists.

Students Are His Friends

Praising King’s skills and dedication, his adult school students are paying tribute to the beloved teacher with an exhibition of their photos called “Selected Images by Friends of Warren King,” on display through Saturday at VIVA, the Valley Institute of Visual Art Gallery in Northridge. Another King homage is planned next spring.

“Warren helps you see magic,” says Sandy Kaye, 68, of Hidden Hills, who has taken King’s class for two decades. “Warren has made me see a door but not just the door. He shows me the texture, the knobs, the design. He helps me look beyond the ordinary.”

King says he learned to see pictures while serving three years and 13 days in the Army. He traveled in Europe with U.S. troops, documenting wartime horrors and victories: the makeshift graveyard in an old woman’s garden, the soldier upside down in a ditch with blood pouring from his mouth, the hungry and tired German troops surrendering.

“I saw a lot of death. Too much,” King recalls. “I cried a lot.”

He mastered how to take a good photo when gunpowder hung in the air and made the day dark. He learned never to think about making a mistake, even when confronted with the intimidating Marshall, who would go on to craft the $13-billion U.S. economic aid package to war-ravaged Europe and receive the Nobel Peace Prize in 1953.

But it wasn’t until 1950, when he was 25 years old, newly married and managing a portrait studio in Westwood Village that King found his true joy.

“Warren,” asked his former English teacher from Fremont High in South-Central, “why aren’t you a teacher like your father?”

The idea clicked. King had always admired his father, Elmer R. King, a hard worker who taught print shop and journalism at Fremont. King also enjoyed the thought of sharing his photography skills with generations of students.

Although King had not attended college, his seven years of practical experience--during the war and working in commercial and portrait studios--qualified him for a teaching credential.

By September, King had settled into the third floor at the same school where his father had begun his teaching career, Polytechnic High, then located near downtown Los Angeles.

Learning to Focus on Motivation

King had three darkrooms, a studio and a full-time assistant dedicated to helping him teach photography as an art and a vocation. “On the first day of school, I would ask students what their fathers did for a living,” he remembers. “Whether it was medicine or police work or any field, I would show them a link to photography. It was a way to motivate my students.”

Five years later, Polytechnic relocated to the San Fernando Valley and King transferred to Reseda High School, which opened in September 1955. By then, King already had a respected reputation among teachers and students, who flocked to his classroom.

“I’m not looking for a good photographer,” King told prospective students. “I’m looking for people who want to learn.”

In 1973, an arrogant young photographer named Jeff Widener decided during his senior year to transfer from Cleveland High School to nearby Reseda High.

“One day, I rode my bike to Reseda High to see the student photos from King’s class, and I was just blown away,” says Widener, a staff photographer for the Honolulu Advertiser. “I had never been so hyped in my entire life than on that day.”

Learning From No-Nonsense Teacher

A self-described “cocky dweeb” in high school, Widener says he sometimes clashed with King, who would raise an eyebrow and let it be known when a photograph wasn’t all it could be.

“I had a huge ego and took my work very seriously,” Widener says, laughing. “But [King] was no-nonsense. He put me in my place so that I could see how to improve.”

That spring, Widener won the prestigious Kodak Scholastic Competition, one of four students in King’s classes to do so. He went on to cover the world for various newspapers and wire services and, for his 1989 photo of a lone Chinese man standing before a tank in Tiananmen Square, became a Pulitzer Prize finalist.

King revels in his students’ successes. “I feel they are a part of me . . . “ he says, his eyes watering. “I am so proud.”

“Selected Images by Friends of Warren King” runs through Saturday at the Valley Institute of Visual Art Gallery, 8516 Reseda Blvd., Northridge. The gallery is open Wednesday-Sunday. For hours, call (818) 576-0775.

Anyone interested in next spring’s tribute to King can log on to www.sedlik.com/kiss.