Here is a bit of a rant .....
Up in Superior, I have always been bothered by the roadside graffiti, spray painted on the rocks. Well, this year it got worse. I went to photograph a large glacial erratic (boulder) sitting in the Sand River. As I got closer, I saw that it had been "tagged" and some attempt had been made to clean it up. Nonetheless, the Rock was ruined for me - it visual essence scarred.
Hiking along the beaches and trails, I came across all kinds of "construction projects" (not simple trail markers. These were often Inukshuk-type piles, and in some beaches, there were obvious piles every 10-20 yards! I personally like to imagine that I am in a relatively wild setting, even if I know that other hikers have come through here with regularity. On driftwood beaches, all sorts of structures are piled up from logs, often in quite conspicuous locations. Trying to photograph these locations, I have no other choice than to "disassemble" these things.
Why do we have a need to leave a mark on the land? Can we not be content to simply be part of the landscape and move on, leaving no trace of our passing, so that others can indulge in the momentary fantasy of seeing the land as it was before Man came to change it?
Some friends of mine were quite surprised when I told them that I routinely took apart "Inukshuks" and other construction projects in wilderness areas (not in the Arctic!!!). Sorry, I don't want my wild landscapes tagged! Do you?
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Return to Superior
I was finally able to return to Lake Superior after 2 years absence.
It was as remarkable and inspiring as my first trip almost 10 years ago. You are immediately struck by the magnificent, rugged scenery, but as you look, you begin to see the textures and details of the unique landscape.
There are dramatic peaks and cliffs, picturesque coves and headlands. On a smaller scale you notice that the firs and spruces begin to outnumber the birches and maples.The rocks are covered with mosses and lichens, often brilliantly coloured. In early fall, the berries, especially the bright red ones of the bunchberries, dot the forest floor. The air is pungent with the smell of conifers, fallen leaves, and freshness!
As I hiked around the area photographing once again, it really hit home that this area has really been my muse for many years. It was here that I found inspiration to work on a series of images that attempt to convey the uniques qualities of Superior. It now feels like home, almost more than my real home, for reasons that I do not fully understand. Perhaps it is a deep instinctive connection to the wildness of the place, largely unspoiled by human presence.
Having just returned, I have to look after more mundane matters, like getting my film processed. That does have its interesting side though: unlike digital, I both worry and wait with excitement to see what I did capture - what were my successes, and what lessons need to be learned for next time.
It was as remarkable and inspiring as my first trip almost 10 years ago. You are immediately struck by the magnificent, rugged scenery, but as you look, you begin to see the textures and details of the unique landscape.
There are dramatic peaks and cliffs, picturesque coves and headlands. On a smaller scale you notice that the firs and spruces begin to outnumber the birches and maples.The rocks are covered with mosses and lichens, often brilliantly coloured. In early fall, the berries, especially the bright red ones of the bunchberries, dot the forest floor. The air is pungent with the smell of conifers, fallen leaves, and freshness!
As I hiked around the area photographing once again, it really hit home that this area has really been my muse for many years. It was here that I found inspiration to work on a series of images that attempt to convey the uniques qualities of Superior. It now feels like home, almost more than my real home, for reasons that I do not fully understand. Perhaps it is a deep instinctive connection to the wildness of the place, largely unspoiled by human presence.
Having just returned, I have to look after more mundane matters, like getting my film processed. That does have its interesting side though: unlike digital, I both worry and wait with excitement to see what I did capture - what were my successes, and what lessons need to be learned for next time.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)