Published again!
I have finally received notice from Black & White Magazine of the date of publication of my Neo-Topographic portfolio. It will eventually appear in the April 2019 issue. (Don’t worry, I’ll blog out a reminder as that date approaches!)
As a”Portfolio Contest Winner” I will get a four-page spread showing off a few of my images as well as a nice write-up about my thinking behind them.
This is the second time in three years I have been chosen by B&W Magazine for this honor and naturally I’m thrilled! (My first such portfolio–Orwellian-like photographs of buildings in New York City–was published in the June 2017 issue,#121, and you can see the write-up HERE.)
New New Topographics, or Neo-Topographics, Explained
For a short explanation of this next, upcoming portfolio (Neo-Topographics, as I now call it), I’ll offer up what I wrote about it some time ago:
“New Topographics” refers to a movement in photography with roots in the 1950s through the 1970s (and continuing, somewhat, today) in both Germany and the United States. The focus is the difficult and complex relationship between humans and their natural surroundings…how we were affecting the landscape, sometimes positively, but more often with unintended consequences that weigh heavily on the negative side of the scale.
Robert Adams, with his clean, plain, simple–but powerful–study of suburban expansion along Colorado’s Front Range is one example of this kind of “topographic” work.
It seems to me that we need to renew the emphasis on this type of understated, yet essential, photography, despite today’s apparent lust for imagery heavily laden with drama, crisis, shock, and/or special effects.
Steadily and generally ignored, the bulldozers plow on…vegetation is scraped away…the water tables drop…farms are sold off…condos and McMansions are vomited up…roads are paved and widened…auto traffic increases…ecosystems are damaged or destroyed…suburbia expands, encroaching ever more on the last refuges of the original, pre-European invasion landscape.
This is all quite logical and understandable (and desired by many with vested interests). After all, the basis of our current way of life on most of this Earth is that the system must constantly consume and grow–or die.
What is the answer? I don’t know. But I do think photographers have a key role in calling this ongoing process (“progress”?) to the attention of the public. Thus my call for a “New New Topographic Movement”, or Neo-Topographics.
I have actually found it quite fascinating to tromp around these construction sites with camera and tripod and treat the scars and the heavy equipment as if they were “normal” wilderness landscapes. I prefer Sunday mornings as the sites are quiet and I can go about my imagery business unhindered–and there is something eerie about seeing the massive machines at rest and the worker-bee human beans absent…calm before the Monday storm.
There are some common themes in these images…the appearance of the American flag, Nature–under pressure–in the background, disruption of Nature in the foreground, and, very often, storm clouds–or at least ominous ones.
A few very recent images from this same project…
The big helium balloon marks the location of the Wyndham Hill subdivision sales and information office:
The big helium balloon cuts loose in the gusty winds and climbs above a Wyndham Hill oil pumpjack (Kansas-bound?). Yes, many of these pumps are still active and kick on automatically at programmed intervals:
Setting the foundations of future homes, with Longs Peak (bear and mountain lion country) visible in the far distance:
More progress, American-style. But isn’t Volvo a Swedish company?
“Road Closed” is but a temporary measure until the field beyond can be plowed and paved. The view of the Front Range enjoyed by these folks is also temporary, lasting only until more homes can be built. Again, the presence of an American flag on the railing (and the basketball hoop!) help identify this as a photograph of the American dream:
This farmhouse probably dates from the 1940s or so and looks recently abandoned or sold. The Autumn Valley sign helps explain why–the surrounding land (and maybe even this very lot) is slowly being bought up for “development” into housing subdivisions and strip malls which will surely bring happiness to many (or not):
Near Frederick and Dacono, Colorado with Longs Peak in the background. These are oil and farms fields now, but likely destined to become commercial and residential areas as the winds of progress blow steadily across the Great Plains:
Leave a reply