On Ansel Adams

06/08/2006 10:50 AM – 11:08 AM

They say that the moment that Ansel Adams went from being a photographer to Ansel Adams the photographer was when he realized that he couldn’t capture the majesty of the scene he was photographing, he had to make it in the final print.

A realistic portrayal expressing the exact tonal contrast of sky and rock wasn’t enough. In order to invoke the sense of awe he experienced in the presence of nature, he had to change the picture. He darkened the sky and decreased its information content. He lightened the cliffs and increased their data. By changing from realism to iconism (albeit subtle iconism), he was finally able to invoke naturalism in his viewers. I find this very amusing for some reason.

Why is it that this was the thought that kept coming back to me as I sat? Why didn’t pass through? Why is my mind so fascinated with this that I’m risking being late just so I can get it down? I don’t know. The sky is oddly the more permanent thing in the picture. The granite rock face, which seems so sure, rose and will fall beneath the fluid consistency of the airy sky. The sky requires constant upkeep, as is demonstrated every night when the atmosphere grows transparent in the absence of sunlight. But when the glorious rigidity of Half-Dome has crumbled to Yosemite’s valley floor, the sky will still be that distracted blue that it is everywhere else in the world. The transient illusion outlasts the reliable solid. If he could get a bottle of bourbon out of it, Mr. Id would love this. Save your money.