As something of a disclaimer, I know not all of my thoughts here may make sense, and I know my connection between environmental issues in the West and landscape photography is tenuous at best, however because I believe so strongly in a strong sense of place guiding the production of quality landscape photography, I do believe there is a connection here. So, please humor me, and if you have any thoughts to add, feel free to leave a comment.
A little bit over a year ago, I wrote a blog post, “Citizen of the West,” in which I began to think about the landscape of the West, not just in terms of the topography, but of the culture, the art, and history as well; I was intrigued by how all of these components intersect to shape the West we live in today. The general idea I wanted to convey is that landscapes like those of the West are more than just named places on the map–because of an inherent sense of place, they become part of who we are. The places–just as much as the experiences–are what define us. For many in the West, these bloodlines, as they are, run thicker than clay red Colorado River mud.
I recently watched a powerful and somewhat dark short film, “The Death of the Bar-T,” directed by Anson Fogel from the Camp 4 Collective, that highlights this uncommon connection to the land and illustrates the complexity of some of the issues Westerners face–the collision of the old and the new West. The old versus the new; a theme that is ever-present. Another example of this was given just a couple of weeks ago by American Rivers when they named the Colorado River–the lifeblood of the West–as the most endangered waterway in America. As the population of the West grows (the arid Southwest states are among the nation’s fastest-growing), its precious little water is being strained beyond limit.
To me, landscape photography has an extremely strong Western influence–Ansel Adams’ work in the Sierra Nevada, Eliot Porter’s images of Glen Canyon, Edward Weston’s images from the California coast, Philip Hyde’s work from Utah, California, Colorado–all of these photographers shaped landscape photography as we know it today. Because of their work, the named places that dot maps of the West are practically ingrained into our DNA and their images give the feeling of a sense of place whether we’ve visited these locations in person or not. This is why so many flock to the national parks and monuments of the West each year.
As far as places go, these natural icons continue to be sought after by many as the holy grails of landscape photography, and in the name of originality, their portrayal is being pushed farther and farther to the limit of aesthetics. The old versus the new: the icons as established by the f/64 school of thought, being reinterpreted by technology-driven pictorialists.
Family ranchers are still succeeding in places, but the culture is slowly losing its grip as larger operations take over, among other things. Landscape photography, too, is changing (much has been written on this–see here or here). Whether or not you eat meat, and whether or not agree with my thoughts on photography, there is much reason to defend Western culture.
Those who live here know the West is a challenging place–it is hard and arid and unforgiving, with no offering of shade or water in summer and no shelter from winter’s blizzards. This challenge is the one against which we built everything. Without it, we have fragments of memories–a mere recollection–of what was.
Things change, shifts in culture and perspective are inevitable. I understand that, and in some ways, I suppose it’s silly to hang on to the past and avoid facing what’s here. But, on some level, I feel compelled to think about these things. All of them, from cows to photographs. Because they all matter.
A powerful meditation, Greg. I love posts like these, which evoke and invite the reader to think. The antelope image is quite compelling, too.
Thanks, Robin! I appreciate your comment, and I hope it got your wheels turning as well. I’m still working on fleshing out these ideas, but as I said, I think there’s something in there.
Another great post, Greg. Pretty much the one thing that is always constant is change. But the degree is the key to whether the old ways, the old landscape, the old life can fit into the new. I’ve never understood why the “old” is so disregarded as things progress. The “old” has a lot to offer whether in arts, crafts or just plain living. The fast pace of living today is taking a toll on people which will only show later in life. How often are we hearing people regretting “not taking the time” to enjoy the simpler things in life?
This is something most of us struggle with and I envy those who are able to push speed and progress to the side and enjoy life as it is without concern for making things better, more productive or more profitable.
Be careful, Steve, you’re opening the door for a whole other blog post. 🙂 I agree completely with what you say here; while it’s important to focus on where we’re going, there is much value in looking back from time to time.
As for the pace of life we live, someone else (I can’t remember where I read it) said it best when they asked why anyone would want to live a life that they want to get away from. Yet, we hear it more and more, “I need to get away…etc etc etc.” To me, there’s not much value in a life like that, and I am working harder than ever to simplify and minimize…
…and as far as hanging on to the past, I’m trying to keep my roots, even if I do have to grow and expand.
Thanks for the comment.
“I suppose it’s silly to hang on to the past and avoid facing what’s here.” —
True enough. On the other hand, I’d say that a connection with our past is vital to our ability to continue as a specie. Wisdom and understanding require this context. We won’t understand our present if we ignore our past.
Great, thoughtful post.
Well I certainly don’t think we can know where we’re going if we don’t embrace where we’ve been. I agree with you completely!
Thanks for the comment, PJ.
Yes, they all matter!!!
🙂 Thanks, Monte.
This is a very strong post that begins powerfully and discusses important ideas, but I want to hear more. I feel almost as if you are just getting started here, like you were just getting revved up and then left off. I am not sure that you got to the heart of what you wanted to say, or to the climax of the story or whatever you want to call it. Great stuff though. Hope to read more on this soon.
Hi, David, thanks for commenting. I always appreciate your feedback on posts like this, when I’m tossing around ideas in my head…
Yes, I think there is more to say. I’m just not sure how to say it yet, or exactly what to say. You and I have talked before about your belief that landscape photography is largely a west coast phenomenon and I see parallels between thoughtful landscape photography and the western ethos all the time. Drawing them up on paper is challenging, but I’m working on it.
Thanks again for your comment!
Greg