The Terra Galleria Blog – QT Luong

Dear students,

Thank you for taking the time to write, and for your nice words about my images. Above all, I hope that the article got you interested enough that you will be inspired to go and see those places for yourself. Ask your parents to take you to a National Park ! If you thought the image of the waterfall was cool, think how much cooler it would be to experience the mist on your face, and see the water flow vary with the wind, maybe producing a rainbow.

It’s great that you sent an actual letter, however I thought that instead of just mailing to you the replies, I would publish them here, so this would give you the chance to be exposed to another medium, the internet blog, which I think will be growing in importance. On the blog, you can follow up with more questions and comments.

I have named this post “Open thread”. This means that any student is welcome to ask me questions here by leaving a reply. I will try to answer here so that everyone can benefit from the exchange.

Note also that prior to starting this blog, I have replied to a few frequently asked questions here.

Gabriela,

The first time I climbed a snowy mountain, I was indeed a little scared. That was a terrain I was not familiar with, and I was afraid that if I would slip and fall I would die, or at the least get hurt. Fortunately I was with good, experienced friends, and nothing bad happened. Subsequently, as I became more experienced, I would be scared only if the situation was really dangerous, which is sometimes the case. One doesn’t need to be afraid to be scared. Experiencing fear is an opportunity to surmount it.

Jennifer,

The light you see in the Mammoth Cave image is under water, in a small pool of water, shinning up. Because the water in the cave is greenish, the light looks green. Brown bears come to the waterfall in Katmai National Park because at that time of the year, the salmon swim up the river in order to lay down their eggs. The bears need to eat a lot before they hibernate. They know that they can catch a lot of salmon there. I have not visited Loriella Park in Virginia yet. I’ve been focusing my travels mostly on National Parks for many years. I did not find sleeping on the cliff scary, because I was attached to the rope while I was sleeping. Besides, do you often fell out of your bed, no matter how high it is ? I use a lot of different cameras. You can read about them in this article, and here are pictures of me with my cameras.

Karen,

How I took the pictures could be the subject of a whole book, so I am afraid I cannot give a brief answer, but I’d encourage you to take a photography class, and you’ll get a better idea of the process. It’s not that difficult, but there is a lot to learn. The bird with the red head was very tame. It walked around on the grass for a while. This was taken in a urban park. You can tell that because the grass is a lawn. In those places, animals often get used to humans, so they are not afraid. You are right, my shoulders sometimes get tired from carrying a lot of heavy equipment, but there is a price to pay for everything, and nothing great has been accomplished without a dose of pain or effort. Don’t you think the pictures make it worth it ?

Rafael,

To take pictures up close of animals, you use special lenses called telephotos. They magnify distant subjects just like binoculars. To take pictures up close of small things, you use special lenses called macro lenses. They work a bit like a magnifying glass. Many mountains are easy to climb, since there will be a trail to the top, so it’s just a matter of walking. Others are covered in snow or ice, in which case you need to wear crampons on your feet and use ice axes in your hands. Some are made of very steep rock, so you climb them using both your hands and feet, like you climb a tree. With so many different mountains, the time it can take them can vary from a few hours to a few weeks. On some mountains, the risk of falling is quite high, as is the risk of being trapped by bad weather. I have been scared in those conditions, but the point is to control your fear so that it doesn’t control you (and make you panic). There was a time when a bear came towards me as I was taking pictures. He did not attack me, but I had to abandon my equipment to hide behind a tree to be safe. It is fairly rare for bears to attack humans. Although they are powerful animals, they are actually afraid of us. The 100,000 miles mentioned in the article that you read were driven in a car. It would take a very long time to walk.

Yareliana,

The lava is flowing down from the volcano crater as it is driven by gravity, just like water. It is entering the beach because the beach is lower than the cliff which is above it. The reason you don’t see a continuous flow (which makes you wonder where it comes from) is that sometimes, it flows beneath older lava. The older lava has hardened and become rock. It then forms a tunnel for the new lava to flow underneath. At Katmai, the distance between the observation platform and the falls where the bears fish is about fifty feet, which is quite close. Normally, you wouldn’t want to get that close to a bear, however there you are standing on a platform. That’s in fact one of the only spots in the world that I know where you can get reliably and safely that close to wild bears. El Capitan is very easy to find. It dominates Yosemite Valley, and you can see it from most places in the Valley.

I’ve posted new images of the Allagash Wilderness Waterway, the third installment of images of the Maine North Woods (trip report).

There are not a lot of places where you can be hiking through a remote forest and suddenly stumble upon huge, rusting, but otherwise well-preserved, steam locomotives, stuck one hundred miles from the closest modern track. One of the things that makes the Allagash so interesting is the possibility to discover remnants from a bygone lumber industry in unexpected places.

The locomotives were part of a short railroad, build by Edouard Lacroix in the mid twenties against all odds, that was used to solve the problem that the adjacent rivers flowed North, to Canada, while they wanted to float the logs to mills in Millinocket. Half a decade later, by 1930, the area was logged off, and the railroad stopped operations.

courtesy Jean Lacroix / www.cumberlandinc.com

When I asked in Greenville and Millinocket, nobody knew the exact location. However, once I traveled North, past the Teleos checkpoint, everybody that I asked (a checkpoint clerk, a ranger, and a forestry worker) was aware of it. Terry Harper, who has personally worked on the locomotives, provides precise directions to the locomotives (including GPS coordinates) in Railroad.net. Since I’ve used a slightly different route, I’ll provide my own below, including coordinates for the locomotives themselves.

You *need* to get the new Delorme Atlas for Maine. Since I respect copyrights, I won’t reproduce the relevant sections here. On the atlas, the site of the Lacroix Locomotives is clearly marked on Map 55 as “Tramway”, on the shores of Eagle Lake. If you have a canoe, you can get from within 100 yards of the locomotives from Eagle Lake. Otherwise, it is a 2 mile hike. I had a rental Ford Focus (a regular car), which was enough to make it to the trailhead, but in the area everybody else was driving trucks. The secondary roads were slightly overgrown, but not overly wet or rutted.

To get to the trailhead, drive Golden Road, then Teleos Road (checkpoint) to Chamberlain Bridge (there is a ranger station there). On the map, it’s quite clear that you need to follow Grande Marche Rd, but on the terrain, since the roads are not marked, it can be a bit confusing. The road through John’s Bridge is longer, and according to the checkpoint clerk, less well maintained. Follow the signs for the “Loon Lodge” until a T-junction where the road to the lodge is on your left, but you’ll continue straight. You will soon cross a bridge over the Allagash Creek. Continue about a mile, then take the first unmaintained road on your right, and then after slightly more than a mile, the first road on your right again. Drive until the road is blocked by boulders, or maybe 1/4 mile past that point if you can squeeze in, and park your car (N46 20.176′, W069 23.948′) before the road becomes too overgrown.

Walk on the road for less than a mile. You will see a trail on your left (N46 19.777′ W069 23.436′). The trail is fairly faint and unmaintained, but if you are an experienced hiker, you will be able to follow it. When I was there, the whole trail was marked with tape, making it fairly easy to follow, but Terry warns you that you should not trust tape. You will intersect railroad tracks twice at a short interval. The second time, make a left. The locomotives are in a clearing (N46 19.360′ W069 22.550′).

If I was to come back, I’d get there earlier than I did, since there are quite a few artifacts to explore in the area. I started to hike in the afternoon, and left the locomotives half an hour before sunset. It was getting dark in the forest, which was kind of scary since the trail was not that easy to see, and despite the short hike, the area felt remote (I didn’t meet anybody after leaving the main road). The North woods are not a place you want to be lost, but with a bit of care, they can provide personal discoveries.

I’ve posted new images from Moosehead Lake in Maine, the second installment of images of the Maine North Woods (trip report).

Moosehead Lake, the largest in Maine, sits in a beautiful area of the Maine North Woods. The lake, bordered by low mountains and rolling hills, features an intricate lakeshore (280 miles long) and more than 80 islands. While Baxter State Park is preserved as a wilderness area, on the shore of Moosehead Lake there is a popular resort, Greenville. Yet so far the developement has been limited.

In 1998, the Plum Creek Timber company bought 900,000 acres of Maine woods, becoming the largest private landowner in the US. Those lands include over 60 miles of shoreline along Moosehead Lake. Although the company initially stated it was only interested in doing sustainable forestry, it is in fact a Real Estate Investment Trust. In 2004, Plum Creek announced its plans for the largest development in Maine history, along some of the most beautiful sections of Moosehead Lake. Those sprawling plans include a thousand house lots and two mega-resorts, a golf course, marina, and RV parks. For an update on the situation, check Natural Resources Council of Maine.

This past Saturday, I dived one of the most beautiful sites I had seen. Although I had done three trips to the California Channel Islands before, I had never gotten into the water there.

Part of the reason was that, being used to diving in warm waters, my only diving experiences in California, near Monterey, were rather unpleasant. I remembered the difficult beach entries, cold water, poor visibility, the feeling of being restricted by the thick suits, hood and gloves, as well as the attendant difficulty to control buoyancy. But now, I had to travel to Thousand Oaks for a photography exhibit opening on Friday night, only half an hour away from the Channel Islands harbor in Ventura, and I knew that October was one of the best times there, with warm and calm waters. The Channel Islands being part of a Marine Preserve, that was an important aspect of the National Park that I had missed.

Bottom photo by Patrick Smith who exhibited beautiful seascapes in an instantly recognizable style at the Westlake Village Four Seasons Hotel.

The week before, I had asked master underwater photographer Philip Colla for advice. Philip, who was most generous with his time, recommended that I had my Nikonos serviced, since it hadn’t been used in a while. Once the workhorse of underwater photography, the venerable camera seems to be well on its way to extinction. Nobody in Northern California doesn’t service it anymore. Since I didn’t have time to send it out, I just greased and replaced o-rings, and then hoped that the body wouldn’t leak. When I was reloading film on the boat, other divers looked with curiosity. On Friday, just before the exhibit opening, I had spent one hour and half trying to find film in Thousand Oaks (In 100 ASA, I had only expired Sensia in my freezer) without success.

I signed up with the Spectre which turned out to be excellent. After the exhibit opening, I drove to Ventura and slept on the boat. At 6am in the morning, the rented diving gear was already there. The crew was most friendly and helpful. Diving from a boat is the way to go ! It was so much easier than diving from the shore. Yet it had been so long since I last dived (at that time 35mm film cameras were largely superior to digital) that I was exhausted from the first dive. It didn’t help that I was missing weights. Fortunately, as the day progressed, I felt more at ease in the water.

The underwater beauty made it all worth it. Diving in the giant kelp forest there was unlike any experience I had before, in its shear three-dimensionality. I had dived kelp before in Monterey, but the visibility was so poor that I couldn’t appreciate the size of the underwater forest, while all I could see was the surge motion that made me feel sick. But there, in the Channel Islands, the visibility was probably 50 feet, and the sight of those tall columns of seaweeds rising deep from the ocean floor to the surface was truly wonderful. As many of the dives were in a Marine Reserve, there were also plenty of fish and a few seals.

As I didn’t have a strobe, my goal that day was just to photograph the kelp forest at shallow depths. My briefing with the divemaster went something like that: “Do you have a buddy ? – No – I can find you one – He might not be happy diving with me, since I want mostly to photograph kelp – When was your last dive ? – It’s been years – Do you still remember skills ? – Maybe, not sure – Hmm – I’m gonna dive to less than twenty feet – OK, Tuan, be careful.”

Although it was a great day, I won’t know if I had been successful until I get my film back. In the while, have a look at Phillip Colla’s images of kelp, which anyways are most certainly superior to anything I hoped to do. Even if you do not scuba dive, I would highly recommend that you snorkel the waters of Channel Islands. You won’t experience moving inside the kelp forest to the same extent, but it will still be a marvelous sight.

I’ve posted new images from Baxter State Park in Maine. This is the first installment of images of the Maine North Woods (trip report). Second installment next week.

Baxter State Park is one of the largest wilderness areas in the North East of the US (the only other comparable area are the Adirondacks in upstate NY). Established as a gift to the people of Maine from Percival Baxter, a former governor who used his personal fortune to purchase the more than 200,000 acres (800 sq km) of the park, with the goal to keep the land forever wild, it has the particularity of having no commercial activities, paved roads, running water, or even electricity, so come prepared ! There are, however, plenty of trails, campsites, and natural beauty.

Access is more strictly controlled than other parks that I have visited. You have to check in during opening hours (the gate is closed from 10pm to 6am), receive a permit under your name that is affixed to your windshield (the reverse of the permit reminds you of the 20mph speed limit). When you exit the park, you return the permit.

The centerpiece of Baxter State Park is Mount Katahdin, at 5,267 feet (1,605m) the highest mountain in Maine, well-known as the northern terminus of the Appalachian Trail. Trails on the mountain are also strictly controlled. Although I was eager to ascent Katahdin, when I was there, the mountain was constantly cloud-capped, with serious chances of rain. Instead of finding myself with zero visibility, I hiked to a shorter peak, South Turner Mountain, whose summit was under the clouds. Before the rain came, the storm conditions created beautiful spots of light over the autumn landscape.

On the way to South Turner Peak, I passed Sandy Stream Pond, considered to be one of the top spots for observing moose in the North-East. The game there is to set-up your tripod on the small observation platform (in order to preserve vegetation, you are not allowed to step out of it), which was near full capacity at 8am on a weekday. You then wait all day for a moose to come out. I went hiking instead.

Quang-Tuan Luong’s images of the National Parks are featured in the Fall 2009 issue of Common Ground, the official magazine of the National Park Service published for the Heritage Community. They run in an article discussing the National Parks film by Ken Burns. The issue also has articles about Ansel Adams, and Japanese-born painter Chiura Obata who both worked extensively in Yosemite.

I just returned from a trip to an area of north western Maine known as the Maine North Woods. I envisioned it as an extension of my work on the National Parks. Since the mid 1990s, some have talked about creating a new Maine Woods National Park there. The idea to possibly contribute to conservation by depicting the beauty of an area was most appealing. The National Parks Conservation Association had expressed interest in obtaining images of the area. I knew that the idea has been controversial, being opposed by some local residents and Maine’s government, so I was also interested in having a good look for myself, and compare the area with the 58 existing National Parks that I had visited. Pictures galleries will follow in about a week, but for now I will give a short account of the trip.

Although many people are involved in the fight to establish MWNP, Roxanne Quimby’s life could make her a character worth of being featured in the Ken Burns series. In 1975, Fresh out of art school in San Francisco, she and her boyfriend George traveled to Maine with just $3,000 that they used to buy 30 acres of woods. They built a cabin where they lived without electricity, running water, or a car – their WV bus had died. Twins were born to the couple, however they separated after a few years. In 1984, Roxanne bought honey from a beekeeper named Burt Shavitz – they eventually became partners. Looking to use Burt’s stockpile of wax, she began to create products, such as candles and lip balm that she initially sold at fairs. In 2007, Burt’s Bees, the leading natural personal-care brand, was acquired for nearly a billion dollars. In the while, Roxanne had begun to buy vast expenses of Maine land, with the goal to preserve the landscape forever by establishing a park, much like John D Rockefeller Jr did for the Grand Tetons and Acadia, and Percival Baxter for Baxter State Park. More of the captivating story can be found in a Yankee Magazine article, The Most Controversial Woman in Maine.

As I was traveling towards the East, I spent the first day in Greenville and around Moosehead Lake. On the second day, I explored the area between Greenville and Millinocket around the Golden Road. The third day was spent in Baxter State Park. Because Katahdin was in the clouds, I hiked a secondary summit that was initially under the clouds. The next day, I visited the Allagash Wilderness Waterway, where I managed to locate the two locomotives curiously stuck in the middle of a remote area at the end of an unmaintained and unmarked trail (this might be the subject of another posting). On the fifth day, I explored the vast area North and East of Baxter State Park, eventually exiting the North Woods at the town of Ashland.

What struck me first about the proposed area for MWNP was the sheer size, 3.2 million acre, larger than Yellowstone and Yosemite combined. There is a historic opportunity to preserve a large swath of land, but that szie makes it a very ambitious proposal, and I could see why this alone would be controversial. If you look at the other national parks, only those in Alaska are larger. However, unlike the proposed MWNP, the Alaskan parks were mostly undeveloped wildernesses that were already federal property. Moreover, in the last forty years, there was only one new national park that did not begin as an existing NPS unit, the National Park of American Samoa. I suppose the way you negotiate is to start with an extreme position and work towards a compromise, and I foresee that the proponents of MWNP will have to significantly reduce their ambition.

I spent five days in the area and had barely began to scratch the surface. It is criss-crossed by a very extensive network of forestry roads, unpaved but well-maintained and easily passable by car. The Delorme Atlas is necessary to navigate them, and even though it is still easy to get confused, as signs are rare. Besides those roads, development is limited to remote camps and private lodges. I saw relatively frequent traffic, maybe one truck (nobody there besides me drove a car) every fifteen minutes, yet the area feels remote. Such a large, relatively undeveloped block of forest is certainly unique in the eastern US.

Within the area, there is a mix of mountains (the most spectacular of which is Katahdin, already protected within Baxter State Park), lakes (including Moosehead, largest in Maine), wild rivers (including the Allagash, protected as a Wilderness Waterway), and ponds. This mix makes the terrain more varied than some other Eastern Parks. Although I am no expert, the forest itself, a mix of evergreens and northern hardwoods, appeared to me not to include much old growth. On the other hand, while I encountered many logging trucks, the harvested zones were small in size, unlike the large clearcut areas of, for instance, the Olympic Peninsula. The area is certainly beautiful, although like in many eastern places there are not a lot of spectacular views, as the forest obscures them below the timberline. In parks such as Acadia, Shenandoah or the Great Smoky Mountains, the road takes you above timberline (or almost), but in the Maine North Woods, a long hike is necessary.

Although most of the land is private, the areas that I visited (managed by North Maine Woods Inc) were opened to the public much like a publicly-owned park, with fees charged at “checkpoints” comparable to the parks entrance stations. There was a registration procedure more strict than in the public parks I knew. You had to obtain an individual permit under your name and check in and out. Baxter State Park operated also the same way. This combination of private ownership and public access with relatively liberal regulations happened at a scale I hadn’t seen before, and I could see why this model could be more attractive than the national parks model. Most recreational activities were authorized, included hunting. As I arrived at the height of the hunting season, I saw more moose than I ever saw before, although all dead!

With all those characteristics, I could understand the reluctance towards a national park. However, the problem is that the current situation is hardly stable. Economic globalization has made local logging uncompetitive. With land ownership shifting from timber companies to real estate developers, the care of the land and access could rapidly change for the worse. The Maine North Woods are at a cross roads. Although it should eventually be for the public to decide, the option of a national park should at least be given a serious consideration, in the form of a feasibility study.

Oakland is the third largest city in the San Francisco Bay area. When I was working at the University of California, Berkeley, I’d sometimes drive there for a medical visit with Kaiser Permanente. Since then, Oakland has been largely out of my map, maybe because the perceived urban grit didn’t appeal.

It wasn’t until one of my readers, Freddie, complained about the omission two years in a row that I decided to have a good look. I frequently receive emails with suggestions for new locations. The more precise the ideas, the better, although exotic location have necessarily to wait. But this one was, so to speak, in my neighborhood. I found a ethnically diverse city full of character, historic buildings, and theaters, with a rich geography that includes a large freshwater lagoon lake, waterfront, and hills.

When I was starting, about twenty years ago, I had to be in awe of my environment to be compelled to photograph, which is probably why I concentrated so much on natural wonders. Although they is still a primary source of inspiration, I have found that as the years go by, I am increasingly able to find something of interest in more ordinary settings. The process of photographing is not foreign that evolution, for photography teaches you to look.

In my research, I’ve come across several more locations that I have still to check out in Oakland, so this is certainly not the last installment.

See the pictures of Oakland

I will be headed for New York City at the end of the week to attend two events in conjunction with National Parks Week NYC. The first event on Tuesday, Sept 22 is a Green Carpet Gala at Ellis Island that promises to be a quite formal fundraiser. A few of my prints will be offered for silent auction there. Since I don’t own a tuxedo, I will be dusting up the suit I bought for my wedding, hope it won’t be too tight :-). In contrast, on Wednesday Sept 23, there will be a free event at the East Meadow of Central Park that includes a concert, appearances, and a preview of the Ken Burns film on National Parks. 8 of my National Parks images – printed on canvas by a third party rather than original prints – will be on view in the VIP tent.

There has been a selection of those National Parks images on display since August at the Balboa Theater in the Richmond District of San Francisco. For a report, see here. That exhibit will run through the end of October, and there might be a talk/slide-show planned for a Sunday, so stay tuned for details.

Last, I will be participating in a group exhibit at the Four Seasons Hotel & Resort in Westlake Village, California (near Los Angeles), from October 16th, 2009 thru Jan 16th, 2010.

I have seen many of my images reproduced on a variety of mass media (editorial publishers usually send a copy), sometimes in a somewhat unsatisfactory way. I understood that the limitation of reproductions are due to the problem of having to render continuous varying tones with discrete dots of inks, and that the primary mass color printing process used to solve the problem involved halftone and offset printing, but I never knew how those techniques worked, and why they became so dominant.

In the eighties, I dabbled in darkroom work, doing both black and white and color printing which gave me some grasp of the silver processes. However, I did not know much about the long evolutionary history of those processes, how they came to be that way.

Besides my own photographic practice, I try to see many as many photographs as I can, either in exhibits or in books. This made me aware of the variety of methods that can be used to make a print, such as carbon printing, cyanotype, platinium/palladium, contact printing on azo and dye transfer. And then, there are all of the “historic” processes, such as wet-plate, who have been revived with great effect by photographers such as Sally Mann (whose new show, Proud Flesh opens today in NYC). I had a basic knowledge about all those, but never really understood the relationships between them, and why those various prints look the way they do.

Reading The Printed Picture by Richard Benson answered all those questions.

Richard Benson is possibly the most authoritative voice on printing today. A former dean of the Yale School of Art, he is a photographer exhibited in such venues as the Museum of Modern Art (NY) and the Pace McGill gallery. As a offset printing expert, he helped create reproductions of the seminal “The Work of Atget”. His personal interest in printing led him to collect many historic prints and reproductions, some of which are shown in the book.

The Printed Picture surveys the whole history of image printing processes, from the earliest books to today’s digital processes, with a particular emphasis on the photographic image and its reproduction.

Venerable process such as woodcut, engraving, etching, and lithography are first described. The attention then turns to the fundamental principles of silver-based photography, including the latent image, through an examination of daguerreotypes, early silver papers, and tintypes, before the innovation of the dry-plate that opened the door for photography to “become more like poetry than carpentry”. The problem of reproducing photography in ink is tackled next, through letterpress halftone, gravure, collotype, and then photo offset lithography. A short discussion of digital printing concludes the book. Benson has a word there to say about inkjet prints versus lightjet prints, but that would be a subject for another post.

Although I haven’t counted them, there are probably more than a hundred processes described. For each of them the ideas and mechanics are described concisely but precisely, in a one-page essay facing at least one visual example, which is enlarged so that the astonishing craftmanship of some the earlier methods can be seen. Understanding all the steps involved in some of the processes still require quite a bit of concentration, not because the description is confusing, but because those processes are so complex. One cannot help but marvel at the ingenuity used to produce something that nowadays we tend to take for granted.

What is most remarkable is that Benson manages, despite the tremendous amount of information provided, to weave threads through clear classifications that illuminate the evolution of each process through its relationship with previous processes. One example of such classification is his division of processes between relief methods (ink is laid on raised surfaces), intaglio methods ((ink is laid in depressions), and planographic methods (ink is laid on a flat surface). The evolution from stone lithography to modern offset printing, or from early engravings to rotogravure becomes clear. Color reproduction, with its unique challenges, is given a distinct thread that ends with some warnings about the limits of color management that echo my experience, and that of other experienced printers I have talked to.

Beyond the technical explanations, which are presented with the highest clarity I have seen, the book is much enriched by Benson’s musings on esthetics. Much of the book has a lively and conversational tone. The author is never afraid to tell us his personal opinion about each of the process described. For example: “Despite its occasional successes, gum bichromate is a poor process, unable to render the clear and beautiful tonalities that lie at the core of the photographic medium”. He even goes on more philosophical considerations about photography in general, and its enormous cultural and social influence, such as “The power that the photograph gets out of its assumed connection to the world from which it was made is almost always stronger than the idea of the artist who tries to alter it”.

The idea that the medium’s artistic accomplishments cannot be separated from its technological innovations was the main organizing theme of John Szarkowski’s history of photography, Photography Until Now. In turn The Printed Picture makes the point that the characteristics of a given process affect the meaning of the image reproduced by it. I’ve learned a lot from the book and highly recommend it to anyone interested in the medium.