Waterton in Black & White – Walking in Bert Riggall’s Footsteps
My connection to Waterton Lakes National Park in southern Alberta runs deep. From my first visits as a boy after moving to southern Alberta, to living in the park, then just outside it, and returning countless times each year for more than four decades, Waterton has shaped how I see nature and photography.
A number of years ago, that connection deepened in an unexpected way.
I was contacted by a group working on a book of photographs by Bert Riggall, a photographer whose name I didn’t yet know. As I helped prepare his images for publication and produced prints for exhibitions, I learned his story and it changed how I look at Waterton forever.
Bert moved to the area in 1905, homesteading just outside the park until his death in 1959. He was a guide, outfitter, and photographer. That last role is where our paths, though separated by a century, feel closely aligned.
His photographs are extraordinary. Bert captured Waterton at a time when photography demanded patience, physical effort, and absolute commitment. He hauled heavy equipment, developed film, and made prints without electricity anywhere near his homestead. Every image he created required intention. And even in black and white, his photographs are powerful, dramatic, and timeless.
Waterton in Black & White – separated by a century
Inspired by his work, I’ve spent the past while photographing Waterton in black and white. Each time I press the shutter, I can’t help but wonder what Bert would think of today’s technology: lightweight cameras, instant previews, and the ability to refine an image with precision. Where his process was slow and demanding, mine is undeniably easier, yet the goal remains the same—to honour the land and capture its spirit.
The images you see here were created over the past year in and around Waterton. They are my quiet conversation with the past, a modern interpretation shaped by respect for those who came before me. Printed as fine art pieces, they are meant to be lived with, not just viewed.
In many ways, changing a dial and shooting in black and white transports me back to Bert’s era. The tools may be different, but the reverence for this place remains unchanged.
These prints are my tribute—to Waterton, to history, and to a fellow photographer who showed me how powerful a single image can be.
If you are interested my prints are for sale. Contact me and I would be happy to send you a price list. The purchase of my images helps me to continue to explore and photograph western Canada.
