Outbuilding, Leelanau County, MI

“Outbuilding, Leelanau County, Michigan”

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.

Rolling Mill, West Side Cuyahoga

Early February provided a perfect day to photograph smoke stacks at the former J&L Steel melt shop and rolling mill on the west side of the Cuyahoga river. Purchased from “Otis Steel”, J&L’s mill was home to thousands of steelworkers and millwrights since 1942. Over several generations the facility has been through numerous incarnations, the most recent of which was its acquisition by LTV Corp. (a consolidation with Republic Steel in 1984), a shutdown in 2002 pursuant to ISG’s purchase and finally the eventual acquisition by Luxembourg-based ArcelorMittal and the mill’s reopening in 2004.

The billowing “smoke” animating the image is really only steam as the morning’s low air temperature (-10°) created ideal conditions for condensation. The shot reminded me a little of a Braque or Picasso Cubist painting … each of the pieces reassembled, seemingly creating more than the sum of its parts. There is something ironically anthropomorphic about the structure with its jaws turned skyward and hot breath billowing in successive bursts. I resisted the temptation to include the sprawling length of the mill in a landscape format. And finally, rather than producing this as a black and white image, which would have reduced the image to a study in “shapes,” I retained the colors to add tonality and dimension.

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 found Schweitzer’s marsh to be an embodiment of that quote.  Early this morning, when the temperature was still below zero, the sounds of silence crossing the ice were broken only by the bones of long dead pin oaks creaking against the passage of time.