Winter travel through the boreal forest, in Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve. Hiking on snowshoes through the snow-covered taiga, white spruce forest in winter.

Hey Folks,

I’m going to be putting a trip together for next spring, late March/early April, to do a snowshoe and backcountry cross-country ski trip. We’ll be staying in a cozy, warm cabin, not backpacking with tents, etc; a wood fire makes all the difference!

We’ll be doing day trips out to different parts of Wrangell – St. Elias National Park and Preserve. Stay tuned for details coming soon, when this summer winds down and I get a moment to add the trip to the website.

This trip will be a blast, and a great introduction to Alaska’s most awesome season. Drop me a note or add a comment here and I’ll be sure to add you to the list. This trip will be run via my backpacking and trekking business, Alaskan Alpine Treks.

Cheers

Carl

Hey Folks,

Mount Blackburn - Winter in Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Wrangell Mountains, Mount Blackburn, Kuskulana River, Winter, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Mount Blackburn, the 5th highest peak in the US; a grand mountain!

Sometimes those moments in the mountains are just too grand to describe; This is one of those views that is beyond the sublime. The Great Horned Owls hooting behind me only added to the ambience. The more time I spend in Wrangell – St. Elias National Park and Preserve, the more impressive the place appears.

As the light faded, I quietly breathed my “thank you”, turned the skis around, and eased toward the night.

Cheers

Carl

Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Wrangell Mountains and the Kuskulana River, Kuskulana Glacier, near Nugget Creek mine. Winter, Alaska. This photo is a closer look at the ice wall on the Kuskulana Glacier, from the photo I posted last week. I probably spent about an hour or 2 here, checking out this fascinating place. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

My friend Guy Tal posted (as usual) another great read on his blog; “Photography and the Environment”. I urge you to read his treatise; it’s a solid piece. Guy has a great knack for writing on particular topics without seeming to offend those who disagree with him, which makes his a powerful voice. At the same time, he’s not wishy-washy. that’s a hard line to toe.

One question Guy asks in the article is “Will another photograph on a web site in a stock library truly change public opinion? How about another thousand? Another million?”

I’d suggest, however, that this is the wrong question to consider.Turn it around; what if there were to be no more nature photographs? What if nobody photographed another sunset, another bald eagle, glacier, forest grove or great bear? What if no writer touched pen to paper to draft the next essay on climate change, the next article about mountain top blasting, or open pit mining, or overgrazing? What if poets stayed their ink, and said no more? What if musicians ceased their social commentary, singers fell silent? Cinematographers made no more nature films?

How might THAT change public opinion? I’ll submit here that art DOES foster culture. The voices of writers, photographers, musicians, painters, dancers, film makers, etc, are worthwhile. The art we create moves people. Expression, both collective and individual, reinforces and shapes who we are, what we value, how we feel, how we think, move, talk, how we treat ourselves, each other; in essence, how we live.

What if the voice for concern were left only to those who have none? What kind of culture would arise from a world where the only representatives of the natural world were those interested in nothing more than extraction and coin? This is precisely the kind of world that made the John Muirs, the Henry Jacksons, etc, so desperately critical. Rivers caught on fire and the greatest herds of wildlife the planet has ever seen are no more. Even given the great work of those luminaries, we still produce undrinkable water and unbreathable air; the skies rain acid, the ice melts and the  polar bear vanishes. It’s frightening to contemplate where we might be today if these giants of conservation, artists all, stepped away from the fray because they wondered if their work might make no difference.

No thanks; give me a world where “champions of the natural world” isn’t a phrase pertaining to competition and conquest, but a tribute to the voice of love and compassion.

Consider the work of great artists as part of a greater coterie; the voice of Bob Dylan, of Rachel Carson, Henry David Thoreau, Ansel Adams, Henry Jackson, Art Wolf, Wendell Berry do not arise from a vacuum. Those voices are certainly some of the loudest and most poignant; fine soloists indeed. But even Aretha Franklin sings with a choir. These legendary artists arise from a bed of creativity, a giant web, that includes, many, many other artists. It is this bed that generates great art and great artists, and it is this bed that might precipitate social change. The universe didn’t give us one Jimi Hendrix. The universe gives us hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of kids growing up playing guitar, making music, making art; and Jimi’s incredible performances are part of that, an outgrowth of that web.

Furthermore, artists don’t create single works. Artists make art, and maybe, sometimes, if we’re lucky, just one of those creations might generate public comment. Photographers shoot literally hundreds, thousands of images, in the vain, oft-concealed hope of possibly making one really great image. Cartier Bresson said “Your first 10,000 photographs are your worst.” So if your photo isn’t enough to truly nurture a change in public opinion, shoot another. And another. And yet another.

The last point I might make here is a more personal one. My photography might not, probably will not, ever, “truly change public opinion”. But my photographic pursuits have changed my opinion; the ways I see the world, the things I care about, the respect I feel for the world around me, have all grown in leaps and bounds through artistic engagement, and continue to do so. That alone makes the quest meaningful.

Cheers

Carl

An ice cave on the Kuskulana Glacier, in the Wrangell Mountains. Winter snow and freezing temperatures ice up the water of the Kuskulana River, and the this wall of ice is a myriad of patterns, colors, and textures. Kuskulana Glacier, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Thank you, Dr. King.

Cheers

Carl

A backcountry skier stands above the Kuskulana River, near Mt. Blackburn. Cross country skiing in Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, winter, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

A quick photo from Wrangell – St. Elias National Park.

Skis: cheap
Pack: not very much $$
View: free

Temperature: Minus 40 degrees.

By the way – if you want to see some great work – check out Jim Goldstein’s blog post, including links to  over 160 photographers’ favorite photos from 2010.

Cheers

Carl

Winter is a great time for backcountry skiing in Alaska. Cross country skiing and ski touring in Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, along the Kuskulana River, near Mt Blackburn and the Wrangell Mountains, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

Happy New Year, and Welcome back to the blog. I had a somewhat mixed couple of weeks, which I’m sure I’ll tell you all about here soon enough. Before I get all that together however, I’ll post a short note about this news I saw, an article concerning a new publishing of the Mark Twain classics: “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer” and “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” edited by Professor Alan Gribben of Auburn University at Montgomery. It differs from other editions of those books because Mr. Gribben has turned the word “nigger” — as used by Tom and Huck — into “slave.” Mr. Gribben has also changed “Injun” to Indian.

This is interesting to me. I’m a huge fan of Twain, particularly those novels, and the idea of editing (i.e., rewording) such great work is almost ghastly .. on the surface. On the other hand, we live in a world where art, including ‘great art‘ is constantly being ‘adapted‘ for presentation: consider films presented on television, for example. How are bleeps, voice-overs, cuts and blurred body parts any different to a publisher swapping out words that might be offensive or inappropriate? Or updated versions of Shakespearean classics, making them infinitely more readable for kids? How about song lyrics bleeped for radio play? Or, better yet, literary classics like Nabokov’s “Lolita” banned from schools altogether?

How about the outcry over John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High”? The US Senate held a hearing in 1985 to deal with explicit lyrics in pop music. So we’re not talking about anything new here at all. Indeed, one of the most popular shows on TV in recent times is American Idol, where countless classic tunes have been butchered by this generations’ most current attempts to throw its own heros up the pop charts.

The examples are myriad. And then we’re still talking about final versions of the artworks being edited. This doesn’t include edits and changes made before release. Next time you rent your netflix video, check out the editor’s cut and compare it to that version released in the movies. For a great look at the film industry, I’d recommend watching ‘This Film Is Not Yet Rated‘ .. interesting stuff.

It’s similarly important to remember, I think, that this is simply one publisher’s “rendition” of the book. The book is still widely available (thankfully) in all it’s original glory. I’m sure there’s a Cliff Notes version of the book available somewhere else; which is really more problematic, editing potentially offensive words from a classic, or editing 90% of the content?

On the whole, I don’t think it’s a good step at all to present work like Twain’s classic with such drastic alterations. At the same time, if we so readily embrace this kind of editing and censorship everywhere else, is it really such a bad thing when it deals with a book like Huck Finn? Some schools, for example, won’t teach this literature because of the content, and maybe getting American classics like this in front of schoolkids, even in a whitewashed form, might be worthwhile. What use is a “classic”, if it becomes, as Twain himself defined it “A book which people praise and don’t read”?

Censorship, it seems, is simply a bane of society. The right to self-expression is tempered by the responsibility to our neighbor; “Civilization is the limitless multiplication of unnecessary necessities.” ~ Mark Twain.

Cheers

Carl

Hey Folks,

A lil’ holiday spirit. As this is published, I’m probably somewhere right around here:

A black and white photo of the boreal photo in Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, wintertime, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of the photo. And Happy Holidays, everyone!

Cheers

Carl

Backcountry skiing on a ridge on Flat Top Mountain, Glen Alps, near Anchorage. Chugach State Park, winter, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of the photo.

Hey Folks,

I recall a conversation or 2 on the subject of art and science; essentially, what differentiates and what connects the science and art. Art is exploration. Science is similar process with maybe more strictly defined boundaries. Certainly they’re both forms of creative expression.

I think the critical illustration of their differences is very simple; artists are so often WAY cool, and scientists way nerdy.

Cheers

Carl

I was photographing toward the mountains when 2 snowboarders came on by. I snapped this photo of one of them before he took off down the mountain. A snowboarder walks across the ridge near Flatop Mountain, Glen Alps, near Anchorage, in winter, Alaska. Mt. McKinley, known as "Denali" in the distance. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey folks,

A quick word of advice. If you think it looks like a nice afternoon to go out and shoot some photos (i.e., the light is rockin’, fresh snow on the mountaintops, etc, etc, etc), the very best of advice I might offer you is this: Head out on your own.

I know better than to think I might do some photography when I head out with non-photographers. Well, I like to THINK I know better, but I today did it yet again. Sometimes I’m a just a flatout non-learner, I guess.

So, as the setting sun turned the sky and nearby mountains a glorious pink, instead of photographing the grandeur, I was packed up and skiing my way back to the parking lot, my camera and tripod safely tucked away inside my daypack.

Photography and non-photographers just don’t mix well. The first time I was given this lesson was years ago, in a discussion with the late Bill Silliker, Jr (a  great photographer and a good man); we were talking about being a photographer versus being a musician. Bill had been a drummer in his younger days. His words were “Carl, one of the best things, for me, about photography as a gig is that I don’t need a bass player”.

Not only do photographers not need a bass player, they do better without them. Much better. Drummers, not so much.

So, the lesson, as I need to be reminded, is that if I want to photograph, and photograph well, I do a whole lot better to head off on my own (or with other photographers). So, anyway – next time I think it might be a good afternoon to do some skiing and bring my camera along to shoot a little late light, alpenglow and mountains, I’ll make sure I’m not on a curfew.

Cheers

Carl

PS – Oh, and hey look , there’s Denali in the distance.

Backcountry skiing, exploring the Root Glacier, with Stairway Icefall in the background. Springtime brings melt, opening a small pool of water on the glacier's surface. Cross country skiing, Wrangell - St. Elias National Park and Preserve, Alaska. Please click on the image above to view a larger version of this photo.

Hey Folks,

I think art involves exploration, the process of stepping into the unknown, and taking a journey of sorts. In this way, I think we might relate the idea of art to the idea of “icon photography” discussed earlier. Seeking out the new is a vital fragment of making art, in my opinion.

At some point, we delineate art from craft. Art, to me, involves a greater element of the unknown, while craft is more a process of refinement and control. One hones one’s craft, but I don’t think that’s necessarily the case with art. Art might simply involve turning a new direction with each step (though maybe it doesn’t have to do so). We don’t have to refine anything.

On a trek through the mountains, I enjoy the exploration, the wander itself. Though I guide hikes in places I’m obviously familiar with, I make an effort to reserve at least a trip or 2 each season as an exploratory hike. This summer, for example, we’re heading to the Arrigetch Peaks in Gates of the Arctic National Park, a park I’ve visited once, my very first remote hike in Alaska (wow, what a great memory that is). Venturing into the unknown is an artful process; a game of chance. I don’t know what we’ll find on the trip, and that itself is motivation for the undertaking; to simply experience that gift of the hidden.

Jazz musicians understand this, every time they step to the mic to improvise a solo they do exactly this. That’s the beauty of jazz. That’s also the beauty of art. The other is artifact.

In this sense, it helps to understand the idea and value  of ‘practice’, honing one’s basic skill set as a kind of safety net for that leap of faith. Jazz musicians know their scales, their chord harmony, develop an ear for improvisation, and off they go. Trekking, I might do the same thing; I acquire (and practice) my backcountry skills, get my gear together, a basic outline of possible routes, and step across the void into the realm of wildness.

I read an article recently that commented on the issue of photographing icons that somewhat startled me; the idea that somehow a trip to a new place to photograph might come with an added cost of not finding a worthwhile subject. I wish I could find the article again. I thought what kind of artist DOESN’T take that risk? What kind of art is yielded not by merely reducing that uncertainty, but by erasing it?

The answer, of course, is none. What we might produce via this approach moves toward craft, not art. Art is a speculative journey, not a given. So pull out your pack, strap on your boots, saddle up, and decamp. Examine all you can along the way. It’s not about what might or might not be around the corner, but what sits in front of your eyes. All we have to do is open them.

Cheers

Carl