08/25/2026
The world is a little less colorful today.
Jay: You taught me, you berated me (with love). You sharpened my eye. You told me to walk slowly. To breathe, and to see.
The last conversation I had with Jay, he was ailing and we chatted a bit. I talked of the ups and downs I was having as a shooter, babbling, really. I concluded with a lame, transparently obvious assessment along the lines of “Well, you know, taking my bumps. I ain’t the greatest photographer in the world.”
There was an awkward pause. And Jay chimed in, acerbic as ever. “You waitin’ for me to disagree?”
I took his famed workshop at the bank. I recall it was a $5000 fee. (Extremely worth it.) But I sent in my money in increments, 1000 here, 1500 next month. He called me. “I knew you were gonna be a pain in the ass! I love you, but no discounts!”
First day, I showed up and Jay had the broad surfaces over cabinets that you could place your stuff on. I was as eager as a first grader on the opening day of school. I had my little bag of small flashes, and my nicely organized backpack of gear and I was positively beaming for the teacher.
He came up to me and queried, “What’s all this sh*t?” “Well, Jay, it’s you know, my gear,” I explained, stumbling over my words like an idiot. (Jay did not suffer fools gladly, nor was he fond of meandering discourse. Like his pictures, he got to the point.) “Uh, uh, McNally. For you, this week, no lights, one camera, one lens.”
It was an important week for me. I had his voice in my head constantly, and certainly, during critiques, he handed me my ass several times. He had a visual intelligence that was remarkable, and he offered you his thoughts in direct fashion. One of his famous critique reactions went something like this. “Obviously you were moved to put your camera to your eye and make this picture. My question is, why am I not moved?”
But he also praised a good photo when he saw one, and I did turn in a couple of those. He pushed. He realized I was trying to work on my craft and force myself to see in a different way than I did on much of my assignment work.
His voice rang true. It’s still in my head. It always will be.
