"Our job is to record, each in his own way, this world of light and shadow and time that will never come again exactly as it is today."~ Edward Abbey
Back in the fall of 2006 I met Jeff in Yosemite all geared up with my new Mamiya RB67 and twenty-plus rolls of Ilford FP4+ film and a few filters excited to shoot the iconic scenes of Yosemite in medium-format. I had not been there for nearly ten years and had only photographed there in 35mm the last time I visited.
So I did.
Then I developed the films. And aside from maybe this shot, that was it. I was done.
Shortly after then I printed that plate in my darkroom, promptly framed it with a gallery mat in a nice frame, wrapped it up and stuffed it in a box which lives in my basement.
Then I just took digital snapshots. I did not shoot medium-format film. I did not try to print anything. Nothing. My reasoning of course was logical to me: everything had already been photographed. A million times. Probably more. And others had done it better so why bother? I knew in the back of my head that it was because I had set out to shoot these iconic scenes - iconic for a reason in that they had been photographed. A billion times. Probably more. But it did not seem to matter or permeate the malaise of just feeling like fine art landscape photography had already been done and in it there was nothing new to create or capture. Oh well.
But I have been excited about it again of late - ironically, quite for the very reason at which I used to scoff. Digital. I have really enjoyed shooting this year with my Canon 20D that I picked up off craigslist back in April or something. And converting to black and white (although somewhat laboriously) and printing on an Epson printer. I have recently framed my first couple of black and white photographs taken and processed and printed completely digitally.
But this is not a shout out to digital or even a comparison between that and working with film in a darkroom which is magical all in and of itself. But I came across this quote at a friend's house reading one of her books and it hit home what Abbey (who is a wonderful writer) said and the picture he paints with his words. That it is not the fact a photograph of Zion Canyon or Cathedral Peak or Mount Rainier or the Grand Canyon or any other of the wonderful and incredibly beautiful natural icons we find on this planet called Earth has already been taken - it is important for us, regardless, to record it in our own way the light and shadow and time and it all everything. With a digital SLR. Or a camera phone. Or a slightly-rusty old 4x5 view camera. Or a beautiful cherished Hasselblad freshly dusted off and pulled out of a closet.
And I will look at that frame of Zion Canyon above and remember standing there shivering in the cold under layers of down and fleece gloves and hand-stitched wool hat pressing the shutter waiting for the timer to expose the sensor. Holding my breath while the shadows crept up the illuminated canyon walls as time inched forward. Taking another frame. Maybe one would turn out. Maybe not. But I just stood there in complete awe watching the light change in that place and I know now what he was saying.
Abbey was right.
