Profile: Chris Goodfellow

What brought you to Gladstone?

Nearly 20 years ago, I’d lost a photography position in Graphics at the old Shriner’s Hospital when they moved to Sacramento. At the time, my motorcycle mechanic worked in the Graphics department at Gladstone, and he told me about the job opening. We worked together for nearly 20 years after that. Small world.

What do you like about Gladstone?

Working with smart people—it challenges me. Working with young people—it keeps me young. Working with people from all over the world—what could be more interesting than that? And to add to the trifecta, it’s for a good cause. Plus, being part of the Communications Department is a joy. It has a hugely collegial spirit and sense of interpersonal respect.

Can you describe one of the people who influenced your career?

This is a funny one. I’ll say Michelangelo Antonioni. I’ll tell you that there are probably many thousands of photographers who were in their teens or 20s in 1966 who would answer the same. Antonioni made the film Blowup, which inspired every young male to be a hip photographer, live in swinging London, and photograph Veruschka and Vanessa Redgrave.

What can I tell you? Youth are susceptible. Later, I grew up a little and wanted to be Philippe Halsman or Jerry Uelsmann.

What do you do when you are not working?

Ride my motorcycle. I’ve been riding since the ‘60s. I guess it’s my primary form of recreation, since giving up backpacking. Growing up in Detroit, being a gearhead was obligatory, and motorcycles are just way more fun than cars—not to mention stupid fast these days. So, combining riding with travel has been my passion.

Traveling on a bike is a completely different animal than closed up in a car. You experience the landscape instead of observing it. And people are more likely to strike up a conversation with you when you pull up on a bike. Plus, my wife and I have met lots of our friends riding, and hosted moto travelers from all over the world. We have ridden in Europe and the Balkans, and all over the West and Canada. And every Sunday, we ride up in West Marin or Sonoma. Eat, sleep, ride, repeat. And stay safe by actively managing risk.

If you could learn to do anything, what would it be?

To play a musical instrument. Music is an important part of my life, and I wish I could play. I tried twice as a kid, but I never had the discipline to stick to it. To play say, guitar, like Django Reinhardt or Paco de Lucia—that would be a dream.

What is your hidden/unique talent?

I can look at a picture on a wall and tell you if it’s one degree out of plumb. I wish that were a job description, because I’d have very little competition. “The Human Plumbline.”

Name one thing that not many people know about you.

I was an English teacher…sort of. I got my teaching certificate back in Detroit and quickly realized, to the eternal gratitude of thousands of potential future students, that someone who spells “fonetically” has no business being an English teacher.

If you could meet any scientist from any point in time, who would it be and why?

Marc Reisner. Not a scientist, but an eco-writer who wrote the definitive book on the history and science of water issues in the West, especially California. I, like most transplants and even most Californians, never thought much about water until I picked up Cadillac Desert one day, and it made me a water zealot. I think the book should be issued to every new resident when they get their California driver’s license.

Reisner’s ability to grasp the big picture was remarkable, coupled with an immense skill for telling a good story. I’d love to hear his inside skinny about interviewing Floyd Dominy, the 50s and 60s Bureau of Reclamation Commissioner who never saw a river he didn’t want to dam, including the Grand Canyon.