Striking a Balance
Fred Agho chronicles the majesty of his native national park
Scattered across the dusty plains of Big Bend, West Texas, violet cacti litter the locale like some kind of strange martian foliage. Hike across these unbalanced grounds and you’ll confront lizards, snakes and reptiles — otherworldly creatures traversing a terrain of distorted rock formations and imposing sand dunes.
“It’s like another planet,” Fred Agho beams. “I kept telling people that it wasn’t real. The backdrop really is that beautiful.”
Off the beaten tracks of the Grapevine Hills, pathways wind and bend like the taupe contortions of pillar inhabiting the horizons. Further down the line, the trail opens up to reveal another perplexing spectacle: a spectacularly large boulder, effortlessly stable atop two parallel columns of stone. Contours of scrawled beige enhance the unusual poise of something so lethally large, and it’s this ‘Balanced Rock’ that provides Fred with a principal focus.
“There aren’t many people who’ve properly documented this before,” he remarks incredulously. “It’s so scenic. I figured it would be a cool place to pose, and significant exposure for the place itself.”
As well as juggling portraiture, Fred captures the Texan landscapes with finesse and flair. Taken as a collection, his images are a serene glimpse into the Lone Star State’s ecological beauty, molded together with unconventional model shots.
“I didn’t want to box myself in, so I thought I’d do both,” he shrugs.
A multilayered mixture, the contrast of styles proves ambitious, but the strength of the imagery remains unhindered. Fittingly, this carefully realized sense of balance becomes especially apt when framed against the sight of the stone, suspended in mid-air.
“I’m really enjoying portraiture at the moment — connecting with people, telling stories with my images. I want the scene to be seen, but I also want you to appreciate the person I’m photographing. I’m cognizant of both aspects,” Fred explains, reinforcing this figurative link between sentiment and surroundings.
“In certain instances, I’m hoping to showcase the scale. In other shots, I wanted to get in tight and have him perform motions that reflected his persona. Over time, I’ve learned how to look at people and analyze them. I want to demonstrate their spirit, and how that can relate to certain spaces. It’s about capturing that interplay, that story. I’m always trying to connect the two. Some people are more open than others, but it’s all about finding a way in.”
Faced with a formidable landscape, Fred soon realized his efforts weren’t just about symbolic steadiness. Offsetting various photographic styles had to be matched with careful navigation of Big Bend’s geography.
“I love the image of him jumping across the rocks. He did that about six times under instruction. I wanted to show his grace and beauty, but it’s also logistical — you’re going to have to move in a measured, cautious way when crisscrossing a space like this. It’s so picturesque and peaceful, but you need to be aware of the terrain, too.”
Pondering the reasoning behind his portraits, Fred expands upon motivation, and a deeper, more substantive purpose emerges. Look closer and these images become more than just sleek reflections of a photogenic model — they’re important snapshots of African-American culture, mounted in an unconventional space.
“It’s hard to engage with things when you can’t envisage yourself doing them,” Fred muses. “Think about what you do for a living — at some point in time, you encountered somebody who made that tangible. Somebody relatable; someone who made an abstract ambition an achievable possibility. It’s exactly the same principle here. The aim is to provide my community with the chance to see themselves in places they aren’t normally acquainted with. In turn, I hope that motivates them to go to these areas. When people who look like me see these photos, Big Bend becomes a location they can really imagine themselves exploring.”
For Fred, image creation has always been tethered to his cultural identity. A rich and lively upbringing meant a camera was never far from reach, and enjoyment was always something to be logged, snapped, and preserved.
“Being Nigerian-American, we have many events — plenty of partying,” he chuckles. “Being the eldest child, I would host a lot. Naturally, that progressed to me having a camera in my hands, periodically capturing whatever I could throughout the night. I loved that feeling, but never saw it as an artistic venture. It was about moments in time… goofing around with family and friends.”
Accustomed to the apparatus, photography was a purely organic aspect of life — a routine means of documenting the energy of celebrations worth remembering. When he began attending Texas Southern University, a natural inclination developed into something more impassioned.
“My love grew. That’s when I got my first point and shoot… a Fujifilm, incidentally. I really enjoyed the results, but when I looked at certain websites and other photographers, I was disheartened. I wanted to be able to achieve more professional results. I reached out to a Houston wedding photographer, who asked if my camera had a detachable lens. It didn’t, so he advised me to get my hands on a DSLR. And thus began the topple, straight down the rabbit hole.”
Using FUJINON GF23mmF4 R LM WR and GF80mmF1.7 R WR for his portraits, Fred emphasizes visual distinction with his lens choices.
“Both can cut out the subject and give you crazy bokeh, but you can still decipher what’s going on in the background. But take a few steps in and it all gets swallowed up again. That’s versatility,” he points out. For the landscapes, a more adaptable GF45–100mmF4 LM OIS WR was preferred. “Those sands seemed to stretch out forever, so I went with a zoom. It really did the trick. On the whole, the GFX 50S II really feels like photo making. It slows you down, so when you look through the viewfinder, you have to think about what you’re creating.
“When I’m taking photos with a cropped sensor, I’m rapid firing, forcing you into the space. I might shoot 200 photos. When I opt for medium format, I’m taking 50 or 60. I’m very intentional, and that approach means the end results are ultimately better. The files are huge, and the shutter is significantly slower. It’s all very deliberate.”
When you’re stuck in the concrete routine of urban cityscapes, spaces like these are often ignored and underappreciated. The neighborhood becomes the norm. Big Bend is left uncharted, and the spectacle of wildlife remains constrained — observed solely through TV documentaries and internet videos. But nothing compares to the intimacy of physically observing nature’s wonders, raw and unimpeded, in the flesh.
“When you interact with these things, the more connected you are, and the better you move in this world. I believe that,” Fred meditates. “I love nature. There’s so much beauty on this planet, and it’s all free. You just have to get out there and bear witness. I’ve been to the White Sands, and I’ve been to Lincoln Park. Don’t get me wrong, they’re both great, but Big Bend is something else entirely. Taking photos of these landscapes was a no-brainer. They’re huge. Have you ever been anywhere and thought, ‘if I got lost here, I’m done’?” he laughs. “It’s so quiet. Eerily so. You’re left alone with your thoughts.”
Encompassing a staggering 801,163 acres, the sheer size of Big Bend permits an uncanny calm, revealing itself in stillness and tranquility. Gazing up at the skies, light pollution is virtually non-existent. The heavens are palpably formed, its shapes unmistakably clear.
“I’ve never seen stars like that,” Fred recalls, a glint in his eye. “Shimmering, spread across the sky. Absolutely amazing. We camped and made a little fire outside, cooked hotdogs and sausages… a hard reset from day-to-day city life. A massive contrast, big time.”
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