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

Colorful duplex and garden, Orsono, Chile. Please click the image to view a larger version of the photo.

Hey Folks,

I’m depressed. I just watched “Manufactured Landscapes”, (2006) and if you haven’t seen it, I recommend you do. It’s a pretty intense documentary, featuring amazing photography by Edward Burtynsky. Burtynsky creates some powerful imagery of some of the most unlikely subjects – largely industrial wasteland. Coal mines, dams, factories (the opening shot shows the inside of a factory over three quarters of a kilometer long), parking lots, construction sites, destruction sites, you name it. It’s compelling stuff – the beauty in his photos is moving, yet discomforting. The reality he brings to the viewer is a bit overwhelming; this stuff IS our world, today.

The film is set in China, largely, though the narration points out that this industrial development is global; almost all of the products being pieced together in factories throughout China consist of raw materials shipped in from around the globe, then shipped back off to meet demand overseas. The stark reality here is that China’s environmental problem is our problem; insatiable demand from the “developed” world is altering not just the landscape, but the land itself.

Burtynsky captures this sense of the land much as a more orthodox landscape photographer might hope to. His eye for composition presents gripping graphic images; subtleties of light interact with his subjects, creating a tension that, for me, is spellbinding. The paradox of shooting such debris, for example, a metal scrapyard, with such an eye for beauty is unanswerable. The ambivalence or duality of expressing beauty in toxic garbage has me grappling with the situation; and I think THAT struggle is what really gives the film its power.

Comparisons to Scorcese’s “Koyaanisqatsi” are inevitable, but I found “Manufactured Landscapes” somewhat more connectable. It hit home, in part, I suspect, because Burtynsky shot the film with such neutrality. He states in the film that he tries to not say ‘this is bad‘ or ‘this is good‘ in his work, but leaves that open to the viewer. His message is both simpler and more powerful; ‘this is what is‘.

I think the film would lose some of its power had he set out to say ‘industrial development is toxic‘; his knack is to simply show industrial development and leave the judgement to the audience. Here the film becomes more abstract, and an infinite array of questions arise for the audience as a result.

Burtynsky’s film presents the viewer with a reality that we have somehow cultivated an amazing ability to simply not see. We all live this life, and consume endlessly, but largely pretend this is not ‘us‘, it’s always ‘them‘.

Watching a Chinese family sift through piles of metallic debris 150′ tall had me squirming on the couch; knowing I have a 20″ iMac computer sitting on a table in my room right now, that needs to be ‘tossed‘. How do I dispose of this broken computer? I can take it to a recycling center, which is largely a code-name we’ve created to not feel so bad about our waste. The bulk of this stuff isn’t recycled, it’s landfill.

How long will my new computer last? I got barely 5 years out of this last one, and the logic board (it’s 2nd) is gone. I ordered a new computer, and it’s faulty; Apple are now sending me a new one. I got the tracking info via email this morning and a shiny new 21.5″ iMac left Shanghai, China at 6:15pm. Cruel justice that tonight I watch “Manufactured Landscapes“, a film that powerfully exposes this kind of waste, consumerism, destruction and sheer devastation for what it is. The finger points squarely at myself.

And yet, now I sit here listening to “One Quiet Night“, by Pat Metheny, on iTunes, typing a blog on my computer. The kilowatts are, I’m sure to be reminded tomorrow, running up. I just watched a documentary that shows the despoliation of building the 3 Gorges Dam on the Yangtze River, built largely to provide electricity to a growing industrial nation. A dam so large it displaced 3 cities, possibly as many as 1 200 000 people, and caused the earth to wobble on its axis as it filled with water.

The electricity generated in China is largely in order to produce commodities for people like myself, far across the world, who have little real need for them.

The other uncertainty in the film is the question ‘what do we do about this?‘ It’s so clearly a problem of such scale that nobody really knows. I certainly don’t. All I can say, unfortunately, is we need to do better. As Burtynsky says in the film; ‘it’s not a simple right or wrong – we need a whole new way of thinking‘.

Watch the film. Amazing stuff. And, if you can, figure out what we do about this mess.

Cheers

Carl

Waterfalls, Baker River, Rio Baker, Patagonia, Chile. Click the thumbnail to see a larger version.

Hey Folks

“How many rivers do we have to cross, Before we can talk to the boss, eh?” – Bob Marley, “Burnin and Lootin’”.

Today, Feb 6th, 2010, is the 65th anniversary of Bob Marley’s birthday. Bob is one of my highest musical heroes, and this tune, of all his great songs, is probably the one that I love the most. So, in honor of the great Bob Marley, here’s a version of his classic ‘Redemption Song‘ that I recorded a few years back with my friend Steve on vocals.

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I thought this photo would be a fitting accompaniment. This photo is of the waterfall on the Baker River, beginning of a series of Class 5 and Class 6 rapids through an unbelievable canyon. The Baker River runs through central Patagonia, Chile; a river currently being dammed (illegally, I’m told by locals). It won’t be too much longer and sadly the view you see here will be no more.

I was in Patagonia, on the Baker, in 2007. It’s frustrating being so far away now, and completely removed from a situation I would gladly stand and fight against. I can’t help but wish there was something to be done, but what? This kind of endless development and pursuit of ‘more‘ is undoubtedly man’s end.

“You ain’t gonna miss your water until your well runs dry;
No matter how you treat him, the man will never be satisfied.” – Bob Marley, “Could You Be Loved”.

Bob Marley transcended musical boundaries, cultural boundaries, spiritual and religious paths; the truths he sang lashed out at political oppression and social injustice. I know he’d have seen this kind of devastation as equally destructive. “How long shall they kill our prophets?”, he asked, in ‘Redemption Song’. Perhaps the best answer is ‘as long as we continue to allow them to‘.

Thank you Bob Marley, for your music, your inspiration and redemption. Thank you to the Baker River. Thank you to the people of Chile who’ve overwhelmingly opposed the damming of the Baker (along the the BioBio and the Pascual). Thank you to my good friend Steve for your voice on this tune. Thank you to you folks for reading this. The gifts you offer us are far more powerful, important and beautiful than any number of kilowatts might be.

Muchos Saludos

Carl

Hey Folks,

Here’s another image from Chile, the Futaleufu River. This rapid is called ‘Casa de Piedra’, which translates in English as ‘House of Rock’. See that big huge boulder smack in the middle of the river? The one with 4 small trees growing on top of it. THAT’S the rock. It’s huge – I’ll try to dig up an image that might give a sense of scale here – the rock is easily bigger than a regular house – a huge boulder that crashed down to the valley floor centuries ago, and now resides in the Futaleufu River.

Casa de Piedra is a Class V rapid, and a really technical run. Guides would often not let some guests run the river, if they weren’t strong enough paddlers – once you enter the rapid, from just upstream and to the left of the rock (which would be ‘river right’, facing downstream), it’s a non-stop run for over 200 yards of holes and waves and pour-overs. Usually we’d stop a few miles upstream, and decide who wanted to go on, and if they were up to it. If we cold round up a boat full of people, they’d consolidate into one or 2 rafts, and head off downstream. The last few miles were pretty sweet whitewater, with Más o Menos (‘More or Less), a huge wave train of Class IV and V water, some smaller rapids, and then Casa – the wickedest rapid on the lower Futaleufu. The guide really has to know his way through – ‘stop’, ‘back’, ‘all forward’, ‘left back’, ‘get down’, ‘hold on’, ‘all forward’, … the calls from the guide don’t let up until your boat comes out at the bottom of the run – it’s pretty full-on. This shot was taken late in the season when water levels were down, and you don’t really get a sense of how intense this rapid is – even standing on the shoreline it wouldn’t look so bad – in the middle of it, with nothing but walls of white, foamy water, immense boulders and thunderous falls all around, the perspective is a bit different. One of the guides, Manu, the Swiss Giant, broke 2 oars in 2 consecutive runs through Casa (I don’t think anyone else broke an oar anywhere on the river all season). I was shooting one of the times from this side of the river, and over the roar of the rapids, I could hear the oar ‘CRACK’ from his boat all the way across the river – amazing sound.

I miss Futa, and hope things aren’t too bad down there right now with the volcano eruption. I’ll post an update as soon as I hear something further.

Cheers

Carl

Hey Folks,

I’m sure you’ve heard of the volcano eruption in Chile this last week – down at Chaiten, a massive eruption has devastated the towns of Chaiten and nearby Futaleufu – ash up to 12 inches deep covers much of Futaleufu. Geologists say the volcano hasn’t erupted in nearly 10 000 years. The volcano is still erupting, a week after the initial explosion, and wind is carrying the ash and dust east and over the town of Futaleufu. The poor little coastal town of Chaiten has been totally rocked, and Futaleufu is hurting – so far all but a few people have left town. A National Geographic vulcanologist has said this particular type or eruption is the worst kind, and could easily continue for months.

I have fond memories of my time in Futaleufu, and am sorry to hear of the hardship those good people presently endure. At present, the people are in need of some assistance – food and water are being chartered in, and some help is needed. If you have the time and some spare change, a donation would be greatly appreciated. You can go to this page set up by H2O Patagonia (a whitewater rafting company) and make a donation – that would be awesome.

I spent 4 months here, Dec 2006-April 2007, and I can’t speak highly enough of the people there – wonderful, friendly, beautiful people. My friend Mitch, from H2O, is a great guy and definitely someone who will ensure any donation you can make will be put to good use, and not wasted. Please help out some wonderful people in their time of need, and give a little. And when all this settles down, head on down and see some of the most people and landscape you’ll ever see, in Central Patagonia, around Futaleufu.

This photo is of a mountain called Las Tres Monjas, which translates in English as ‘The Three Nuns’ – a classic peak, catching the last ray’s of the day. The river here is the Rio Azul, which joins the Futaleufu about a mile downstream from where I took this photo.

Cheers

Carl

Hey Folks,

Here’s another from the Rio Baker – at the end of the first canyon, which is 5 enormous rapids over 2 miles, there’s a flatwater section, and then just down from the take-out spot is a big playwave. We bought an extra kayak, a smaller playboat, just for this one wave. You’d never want to run a river the size of the Baker in such a small boat, unless you’re a kayaker with world-class crazy skills – a bigger volume boat is what you need for running such big rapids. But, once down at the playwave, those big boats aren’t as handy for doing tricks and surfing, like this small Wave Sport ZG playboat. Being smaller and less volume, the boat is more maneuverable, and in the hands of someone like Santiago Ibanez, from Peru, it rocks and rolls with ease. Santiago’s a great fella, a helluva great kayaker, and he guides on the Futaleufu River when he’s not in Peru.

By the way, if you haven’t read my earlier blogs on the Baker, the river is scheduled to be dammed in the coming year. Hopefully enough activism and enough demonstrations will stop that from happening. For more information, visit these pages:

Baker River and also here.

Cheers

Carl

Hey Folks,

Simpler times indeed. Last year at this time I was in the Andes Mountains with some good friends, on a trip to the Rio Baker, or Baker River, Patagonia, Chile. A series of insane Class 5 and 6 rapids make this one of the biggest whitewater kayaking runs in the world. This is the first of the 4 rapids, a cool drop over a waterfall. This kayaker is my friend from Futaleufu, Chilean native Memo, who’s real name is Guillermo – we just called him Memo. It was his first time on a river this size, and he paddled it with aplomb. I’m hoping to get back down to Chile maybe next winter and revisit some old friends and places. We’ll see if that happens.

Cheers

Carl

Hey Folks,

Here’s my first attempt to bring an mp3 (Dad, that’s an audio file) online.

[display_podcast]

I have no idea if this will work. This is a tune I recorded with a few friends of mine years ago, for an album a group of John Hiatt fans recorded, called We Love The Jerk. The album is named, tongue-in-cheek, after one of his songs called “She Loves the Jerk”. Each person who wanted to recorded a song, and submitted it to the group, where the compilation was put together, including a cool album cover, and CDs shipped out to the John Hiatt fan club. Kind of a fun little project.

This tune is me playing guitars, my good friend Steve F playing bass, Steve Lusk singing his a** off, Chip Lunsford playing drums and Randy Hoexter playing piano. Randy recorded it at his studio. I really need to get in and do some more recording/writing and get some tunes online — maybe that’s another project I should finish. The song, Slow Turning, is the title track on John Hiatt’s “Slow Turning” album .. one of his best efforts, IMO. Definitely check out that album.

The photo is a friend of mine, Nate, way down in Futaleufu, Chile, right now, about to run the 3rd rapid of the Baker River, or Rio Baker – big, big water. Nate got smashed!

Cheers

Carl

Hey Folks,

Sometimes we’d run a full river trip down the Futaleufu instead of the more common “Bridge to Bridge” section, which is the standard day-trip, about 12km of solid whitewater. On the full river section, we’d usually make it an overnighter, and enjoy the flatwater runs between the various sections of whitewater. Halfway along the trip is this killer place to go rock jumping. A nice sunny day, a deep, flat pool of water and a high ledge made for great fun for everyone. You’ll notice Gabby in the orange Jackson kayak just downstream, in position in case anyone got hurt jumping and needed some assistance. As always, safety first.

Cheers

Carl

hey Folks,

I’m a little tired, so I’ll make this brief. This image is of a rock form called “Cara del Indio”, which translates to english as “Face of the Indian” – because the rock form resembles the profile of face of a wizened old Indian; the native people of this area were the Mapuche, who were mostly wiped out by the Spanish Conquistadors. The word “Futaleufu” by the way, is a Mapuche word that translates as “Big Water”, and yes indeed, the Futaleufu River is Big Water. Chile.

Cheers

Carl

PS – Oh, I should’ve added: this feature is just before Mundaca. Generally rafting trips will pull over on to a small beach below Cara del Indio, have a quick rest, and the guides will go over the plan for running Mundaca – it also allows the safety boats, like the cataraft and a kayaker or 2, to get ahead and set up for safety, if needed.