Landscape

Winterness Portfolio I

The Cuyahoga Valley of OH

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Winterness Portfolio I

The Cuyahoga Valley of Ohio

“Cuyahoga” is a Seneca/Miami word that translates loosely as “open jaw”, a reference to the path of the river. With headwaters near Lake Erie, the Cuyahoga travels over 100 miles to empty into the lake 15 miles from where it began. The river gives the impression it is taking its time continuing what it has done since it was fed by glaciers retreating north. Long periods of quiet punctuated with “100 year weather events” that result in raging floods remind us who is in charge.Halfway through the journey the river runs into an east-west continental divide that changes its direction from south to north. In this area there are places where cliff walls go up 50 - 100 feet and it is easy to imagine a time of glaciers. Boulders that have been dragged by the glaciers all the way from the Appalachians are not uncommon here.Photographically, the Cuyahoga Valley is similar to other places adjacent to a river like Yosemite. There is no El Capitan or Half Dome to place in the background however, and one has to approach the Cuyahoga on its terms to learn its secrets. This land, once referred to as the “Western Reserve” marked the end of civilization and the beginning of the frontier. There are legends of Chestnut and Elm trees more than 200 years old with savannah grasses taller than a man growing under them, gone now because of disease or the appetite of a new world that needed cabins, canal boats, furniture, and railroad ties. After being clear-cut twice the forest has returned, populated by several kinds of Oaks, a half dozen species of Maple, American Beech, Cottonwood and Sycamore by the river, Hemlock and Tamarack in the shadow places.

Winterness Portfolio II

Tuscarawas River, OH

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Winterness Portfolio II

The Tuscarawas River

A statue of a Native American carrying a canoe stands near my home marking the southern terminus of an 8 mile path from the Tuscarawas River to the Cuyahoga where an identical statue marks the beginning. Known as the “Portage Path” it was originally a fur trading route for native peoples traveling from southern Ohio to Lake Erie.Water from the “Tusc” flows south to join the Muskingum River, empties into the Ohio, which flows to the Mississippi River and beyond to the Gulf of Mexico. This trail and the surrounding lands, visible on Spanish, French, and British military maps dating back to the 1500’s represented not only trade routes but military options for moving armies from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico. A half mile walk from my home, the Tuscarawas River is shallow enough to wade across in low water times. A half mile in the other direction is the Ohio and Erie Canal towpath trail. Because this is an East-West continental divide the water on one side of my city flows south to the Gulf of Mexico, the other side north to Lake Erie. The era of canals ended over 100 years ago and since that time the forests and green spaces have recovered in the places where protected. Like the land around the Cuyahoga, Maple and Oaks thrive here along with other native trees. In winter it is a wonderland with subtle beauty not only around the river and trees but also in the lower wetlands. Winterness Portfolio II is comprised of 10 Silver Gelatin prints printed by the artist from large format negatives, selenium toned for permanence and mounted on museum materials.

Winterness Portfolio III

Extracts

Winterness Portfolio III

Extracts

The work in Portfolio III are abstracts made in the lands surrounding the Cuyahoga and Tuscarawas Rivers. Images of the ice on the ground were made when the temperatures were extremely low and it is not uncommon to see air bubbles under the ice as well as random objects blown in by the wind. Patterns observed in nature are frequently repeated in other natural situations. The repetition of line, the flow in direction are patterns I have seen in sand dunes, skies, and along beaches. Some situations are a mystery as seen in the frozen pond containing circles of various sizes dusted in a snow that resembled confectioners sugar. The same geometry repeats itself in the frozen cattails and the silver pond images. The wonderful triangles of ice were made visible because of the light at the time, a luminance I would describe as effervescent, pearlescent in color. A different light would have interfered with the subject. The geometric shapes were caused by a very rapid drop in temperature over a couple of hours.

Winterness Portfolio IV

Boundaries

Winterness Portfolio IV

Boundaries

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Winterness Portfolio IV

Boundaries

Portfolio IV, a departure in subject echoes the same bright tones as the other works in this movement. An overnight snow event prompted me to head to the Cuyahoga Valley with hopes of wet snow clinging to the trees. A difference in microclimates between home (South Akron) and the Valley meant I found only a powder upon my arrival. Convinced the day was a waste I decided to start walking, following a mantra that I live by; there is always something to learn.

Paralleling a road I’d driven a thousand times I walked a fence-line normally obscured by high weeds and trees. This fence, the boundary around a working field, drew me in with its repetition of pattern. What stopped me in my tracks however was the breaks in the pattern, overlaps, places where a tree had fallen requiring repair to the fence. The powdered snow in the field on the background provided a perfect canvas.

The edges of things in the world are where the interesting things happen. The silence between musical notes, words divided and then restarted by punctuation. The interruption of that man-made repetition is what appealed to me in these fences. But Boundary work connected with me in a personal and historical manner as well.

My grandfather who passed the year I was born traveled as a “ranch hand” working on some of the big name ranches in West Texas and Eastern NM. Men who did this kind of work had to do everything from breaking horses to herding cattle. Grandfather was in demand for his fence building and repair skills, not an easy thing to do in the hard pack caliche dirt of the Llano Escatado. Several of the images in this portfolio involve patching a break in the fence and I think of him each time I view them.

Trees

In my sixth year we moved from Coastal Texas where trees grow wide to Lower Michigan where they grow tall. My walk to school was under a canopy of Elms that reached for the sky, blocking out the sun on summer days with the last 200 steps of my journey skirting a city park populated by Pin, Burr and White Oaks. My arrival to the 3rd grade coincided with the arrival of Dutch Elm disease and in one week the Elms were cut down to prevent them from falling on houses and people. The change in light and temperature was profound and I felt the loss in my young bones. When given free time in art class I began drawing from my memories of those Elms a stark, “Winter-ness” using only white and black crayons. The experience of walking under those Elms and recording my love for them, for all trees, has informed my photographs for 35 years.

Trees are the lungs of the Earth, they are the thing in nature most like us — reaching for the sky, each other and healthiest when growing with others of their kind. A tree grown in a windless environment would snap in half and die at an early age as the movement of the wind contributes to its strength as much as water and light do. So it is with us — it is the trials of living that help us grow strong.

July 2023