By now, we all know that Brian Cox was one of the most amazing and gifted photographers of the 20th century.
Born in 1932, Cox began his photographic career in the early 1960s.
At the time, there was no standard way to capture the moment of an event.
But in the years to come, many photographers would experiment with camera-enabled film and the technology would evolve from camera to camera.
In the early 1970s, Cox became the first photographer to use the Polaroid film camera.
He would continue to experiment with different cameras throughout his career, eventually going to work for a number of major photographers and magazines, including Harper’s Bazaar and the New York Times.
Brian Cox’s passion for photography would not die with the death of his father, who was also an accomplished photographer.
The elder Cox had been the editor of the photography magazines and book publishers in the late 1960s and early 1970S.
When Cox went to work at Harper’s, he had a great relationship with editor-in-chief Walter Ehrhardt, who worked closely with Cox to ensure that all his photographs would be published in Harper’s.
As Cox later recalled in his memoir, The Art of Photography: A Family Story, Ehrhart and his family came to visit him at the studio in New York City.
“As the studio doors opened, they were greeted by my father,” Cox wrote in his book.
“He introduced himself as Walter E. Ehrhard, the editor-at-large of Harper’s Photography.
It was an honor and privilege to meet with my father and to talk with him.”
Brian Cox would have enjoyed meeting his father.
He said that he was very proud of his work and he was proud of the quality of his images.
“I am proud to have worked on a Pulitzer Prize-winning film,” he said.
“My father’s contribution to photography was very important to my own development.
I would like to thank him for that.”
After meeting with Ehrbert, Cox was given the assignment to shoot a portrait of the President.
“We were invited to a small reception,” Cox said.
Cox said he thought about shooting a portrait as he walked into the studio.
“There was an older gentleman, the only one in the room,” Cox recalled.
“The only one to whom I could talk,” Cox continued.
“And he said, ‘I would like you to shoot this portrait, Brian Cox.
I’m not going to do it if you don’t like it.'”
The young photographer, however, did not take his advice.
“A few minutes later, he asked me, ‘So, you think you can shoot a good picture?’
And I said, I don’t think so,” Cox remembered.
Cox was offered a $3,000 advance, which he declined.
“When I looked at it, it was only a dollar,” Cox explained.
“So I thought, ‘Why not shoot the portrait?’
But then I thought of the other person, who is an amazing man, and I thought about him and thought, I really don’t know.
I could shoot a great picture.
So, I said no.”
But Cox did not decline his offer.
“No one can live as long as a photographer, Brian,” Ehrhaldt told Cox, according to Cox’s book.
Cox, though, would not go quietly.
He continued to pursue photography as he was given a chance to work with the New England Society of Professional Photographers.
He spent many hours in his studio, and he took photographs of everyday life, including a group of children playing in the woods near his house.
The pictures that Cox took during those days of shooting and making photographs would have a profound impact on many photographers who would go on to work in many different fields, including architecture, photography, and architecture and planning.
Cox’s work, however was not just about making photographs of people.
He also made photographs of animals, birds, and other animals, as well as plants and other natural and human-made objects.
“Brian Cox’s art was an exploration of the natural world,” wrote photographer Robert Smith in his biography of Cox.
“It was a constant search for the mysterious, the sublime, and the surprising.”
As Cox continued to work, he would often spend time in his home, and his home was often a sanctuary for him.
He loved to spend time with his family and his beloved cat, Chub.
“They were my most important companions,” Cox told the New Yorker in an interview published in 2012.
“Their very presence in my life meant the world to me.”
But when Cox’s father died in 2011, Cox did his best to honor his father’s memory.
In his memoirs, he described the funeral as a special experience for him, but he did not know what his father had intended.
“To my father, it must have been a strange moment,” Cox recounted.
“Because the man I