About Ben Ham

A Visit to Ben Ham’s Gallery

I never had the privilege of meeting Ben Ham, but I did have the opportunity to visit his studio in Charleston, South Carolina. One object in particular caught my eye—one of his cameras displayed in the front window.

Ben Ham was the first name I heard when I started researching black-and-white photographers in the Lowcountry of South Carolina, where I now live. I found both his images and his story inspiring. As I continued my research, I discovered that he had two photography studios—one in Charleston and another in Bluffton, South Carolina.

I was excited because Charleston is one of my favorite places to visit and photograph. I knew that on my next trip, I would have to stop by Ben’s studio. At that point, all I really knew about him was that he was a respected black-and-white photographer whose work focused primarily on the landscapes of the Lowcountry.

Feeling inspired, I knew I had to plan a road trip, which led to a conversation with my business advisor and travel agent—my wife, Sue. A couple of days later, we were on our way to Charleston.

When we left our home in Myrtle Beach, it was overcast, but rain wasn’t in the forecast. Now, a smarter person might have checked the Charleston forecast too, but I didn’t. By the time we reached Mount Pleasant, it had started to drizzle. When we arrived in Charleston, it was raining steadily, so we began looking for a parking space—more on that later.

Parking spaces on the streets in the historic district are a rarity, but we found one near a restaurant Google had recommended. We parked, and I grabbed my Nikon Z6 III with a strap, just in case I found something interesting to photograph. What I didn’t grab was one of the three umbrellas sitting in the car. Halfway to the restaurant, it started pouring. I tried holding my camera under my T-shirt to keep it dry. It didn’t work.

While we were having lunch, I checked the hours and discovered that Ben Ham’s studio wouldn’t open for another couple of hours. Since it was still raining, I started looking for something to do indoors. There are several museums near the photography studio, and I found one that looked interesting: the Gibbes Museum of Art.

The museum featured portraits and landscapes dating back to the 1700s, which immediately caught my attention as both a history buff and a photographer. We bought tickets and spent a couple of hours exploring. During our visit, we could hear the heavy rain pounding on the roof, along with the roar of fighter jets from the nearby naval base practicing for an air show over Charleston Harbor the following day.

If you’re ever in Charleston, I highly recommend visiting the Gibbes Museum. By the time we finished, there was finally a break in the rain. On the walk back to the car, I managed to photograph several historic churches, a few narrow alleyways, and an old cemetery.

Now it was finally time to visit the Ben Ham Studio.

Before I tell you about my visit, here’s a little background on Ben Ham. Ben is an internationally known fine art landscape photographer, best known for his large-format black-and-white and sepia-toned images. Remarkably, he is self-taught. Inspired by Ansel Adams, he learned his craft by studying Adams’ classic books: The Camera, The Negative, and The Print.

Unlike most modern digital photographers, Ben still practices the meticulous craft of large-format film photography. He uses a lightweight K.B. Canham 8×10 wooden field camera and composes each image beneath a dark cloth on individual sheets of film. It’s a slow, deliberate process that requires patience, precision, and careful attention to every detail.

The Ben Ham Gallery is located on historic King Street, one of Charleston’s busiest and most well-known streets. It was really raining by then, but I was fortunate enough to find a parking space just a few doors down from the gallery. I grabbed my iPhone and my Nikon Z6 III with the 24–70mm lens, and we headed inside.

When we entered the gallery, I was expecting a few things that never happened. I was hoping to meet Ben Ham and tell him how much his work had inspired my own photography. I also wasn’t expecting the size of his photographs. They were enormous, beautifully presented in exquisite wooden frames. These weren’t just photographs—they were works of art created by a very talented photographer.

We were greeted by a wonderful woman named Katie, the gallery director. Since the gallery wasn’t busy, we had her all to ourselves and spent quite a while talking about photography, Ben Ham, and the gallery itself.

Although I never met Ben, I felt his presence throughout the gallery through his work and his dedication to his craft.

His photographs were stunning—large landscapes of Lowcountry marshes, waterways, and Southern live oaks draped in Spanish moss. There were also images from other parts of the country and the world. One photograph immediately caught my attention because I had stood in that very place a few years earlier during one of our trips to Utah. It was a magnificent photograph of The Narrows in Zion National Park. There were also photographs from Italy, reminding me that not all of Ben’s work was centered on the Lowcountry. Even so, it was obvious that his heart belonged to the South. That passion came through in every Lowcountry photograph hanging on the walls.

Another surprise was seeing one of Ben’s 8×10 field cameras displayed in the front window—the very camera pictured at the beginning of this story. Katie explained that one of his photographs required an exposure of approximately eighteen minutes. I believe it was the image from Zion.

I thoroughly enjoyed visiting Ben’s gallery. More importantly, I came away with a better understanding of how a photographer can create images that invite the viewer into the scene, almost as though they could step through the frame.

When I returned home, I took a deep dive into Ben’s work, his techniques, and his philosophy. I found several interviews where he talked about photographing places that, a hundred years from now, might no longer exist. His hope was that his photographs would preserve those places for future generations to experience.

That idea resonated deeply with me.

What an incredible experience.

But wait… there’s one more story.

The Parking Ticket

As if the day hadn’t been eventful enough, the drive home provided one last surprise.

We had just left the gallery and were making our way through the rain when the automatic windshield wipers swept across the glass. Suddenly, a bright yellow parking ticket appeared from beneath the driver’s-side wiper. I hadn’t even known it was there.

The next thing I knew, I was rolling down the window and reaching out into the rain, trying to grab the ticket before the next pass of the wiper launched it into Charleston Harbor.

Fortunately, I caught it just in time.

It was time to head home.

In spite of the rain, the parking ticket, the soaked camera, and not getting to meet Ben in person, I can’t wait to visit the gallery again on our next trip to Charleston.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

If you ever find yourself in Charleston and appreciate fine art photography, I encourage you to visit the Ben Ham Gallery at 416 King Street, Charleston, South Carolina.

Thank you again for spending a few minutes with me.

Gary Godfrey