“Untitled”

“Untitled II”

My preoccupation with geese traces to childhood and the scarcity of what now has become abundant. This is the second in a series. Note, the gander trails the female always protecting his territory.

What works (I think) about this image is the context (marsh grass in the foreground) and the center focused composition.

Outbuilding, Leelanau County, MI

After printing this image I tried to imagine whether the scene would have appealed to three of my favorite artists, Edward Hopper, Grant Wood and Andrew Wyeth, each whose work may be considered an example of modern American realism. I think the almost surreal landscape would have attracted Wyeth; the nostalgic throwback, Wood; and the solitude of the scene, (especially the isolation of the towering outbuilding), Hopper. I mention these artists because, for many years I’ve been drawn to their work and suspect it has influenced the way I see landscapes and architecture.

This outbuilding resides on the property of Carsten Burfiend, the first settler of Leelanau County, Mr. Burfiend built two farms in the late 19th century just north of Glen Arbor. The farm is closed though restored and sits between a spine of dunes to the east and Lake Michigan less than a mile west.

I printed this recently for the first time as a large format (48″x38″) using archival pigment ink and canvas.  It is on display in Still Point’s exhibit space at the moment.

Silent New Year

Not a sound at the marsh today (January 1st, 2017). Hundreds of acres covered with a thin sheet of ice, perforated only by tiny islands of marsh grass and dead pin oaks. The few remaining geese and ducks have moved to the open water of lakes and rivers. Not a sound, not even “the sweep of easy wind …”.

Groves of dead oak still stand in silence after more than fifty years, gray with age but unaffected otherwise. Today’s blue sky and early afternoon light accentuated the bleached wood and made for a dramatic black and white image close to shore. 

First Note

“First Note”
Among the blessings conferred by early morning excursions into the marsh has been the opportunity to observe Red-Winged blackbirds as they usher in the day with their first notes. In the morning twilight, almost an hour before sunrise, this blackbird was first to rise from the marsh to greet the morning with its song. Abruptly, the landscape erupted in a cacophony of disparate songs; harmony in its dissonance.

Isolated on a dead pin oak before sunrise and silhouetted, Kirie-like against the eastern sky, its colors were indiscernible. It made more sense to process this photo in black and white without the slightly hued and muddled colors of the predawn sky.

This is a moment I wish for everyone.

Coot, Two Geese and a Mallard

A contemplative scene from a visit to the marsh the morning of April 11, 2013. Enlarging the image one can see a mallard flanked by two geese. The solitary coot lists slightly in the foreground. None seems particularly anxious to begin the day.

For me, this day was an unexpected gift, yielding extraordinary opportunities for wildlife and light. Most importantly, I had come to the marsh before dawn to reflect on my father who had died on April 11, seven years earlier.  As I look back on that morning I have to think my father had something to do with the way in which I saw the landscape.  And, one might imagine he had something to do with presenting the opportunity.

Edge of Winter

Andrew Wyeth said, “I prefer winter and fall, when you can feel the bone structure of the landscape – the loneliness of it – the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it – the whole story doesn’t show.”
I suspect Wyeth would have loved Schweitzer’s marsh as it seems to illustrate his quote so well.  Early this day, when the temperature was still below zero, the sweep of silence across the ice was broken only by the bones of dead oaks.