from the eMusings Archive...

Volume 13 • Number 5 • December 2020

In Your Own Back Yard

by Huntington Witherill

“Our job is to record, each in his own way, this world of light and shadow and time that will never come again exactly as it is today.” –Edward Abbey

As evidenced by a thick layer of frost blanketing the studio roof this morning, we’re fast approaching that time of year during which I’ve been fortunate enough to receive an annual gift that continues to be faithfully delivered to my attention, each and every year, with the celestial precision of the winter solstice.

Just outside the door to my office there is a framed exterior wall situated in such a manner as to remain all but completely impervious to direct sunlight for all but a few days each year. Facing slightly southeast and affixed to the shadow side of a wider alcove, the relatively plain whitewashed wall (accented by an entry door leading to a small laundry room) provides structural support for a covered walkway that separates my office/studio from the main part of the house. And, owing to the fact that the wall, itself, is located less than three feet from the entry door to my office, I’ve routinely passed by this very same edifice, at least twice a day (nearly every day) since having initially moved into this domicile, in 1977. (For anyone keeping score, that would be roughly 31,390 times!)

Now, owing to the fact that I am a photographer who, by profession, should likely be presumed to be a bit more visually observant than most, it came as a rather startling surprise to me when I finally discovered – some thirty-four years after first taking up residence, here – that the above described wall also serves as the canvas for a particularly spectacular light show that presents itself (shortly after sunrise on those days when the sun is not completely obscured by atmosphere) for a period of roughly thirty days, each year, between mid-December and mid-January. The annual mid-winter light show, itself, lasts no more than five to ten minutes on any given day. Yet, as might be expected, once I finally woke up to it, the discovery rewarded me with a fortuitous (albeit time-sensitive) opportunity for some recurring photography exploration.

In relation to the foregoing, and at a point in time now somewhat hazily affixed to the mid-1980s, noted photographer Ruth Bernhard shared an anecdote with me that involved a strategy whereby she would challenge her workshop students to engage an exercise designed to sharpen their visual discernment skills. To paraphrase Ruth’s explanation, she would encourage her students to pick a random spot (preferably close to home) and, from that fixed point, to literally tether themselves to a ten-foot length of cord while, thereafter, carefully and thoroughly exploring their surroundings in effort to find and produce a dozen good photographs, all within the confines of the resulting twenty-foot leashed perimeter. Her point being that compelling photographs can be found most anywhere, provided one is willing to expend the requisite amount of time and effort to actually look carefully enough to uncover them.

The wisdom of Ruth’s exercise continues to resonate. Although I must admit that I don’t often find myself with a hankering to be tied up, I have indeed found the principal of her recommended discipline to be demonstrably sound. The idea of working to create meaningful photographs within the confines of one’s immediate surroundings remains a worthwhile strategy for any photographer to consider. Given what Ruth liked to refer to as the Gift of the Commonplace – the essence of which she routinely celebrated through the uncommon elegance of her own photographs – her recommended approach provides ample evidence that the commonplace will always hold the potential to be transformed into the exceptional.

Iceland, Antarctica, New Zealand, Patagonia, and any of a hundred other exotic photography destinations that might come to mind do not, in and of themselves, hold the ultimate keys to meaningful photographs. While such destinations are undeniably alluring, the ongoing potential for exquisite photographs to be made in your own back yard should not be overlooked.

In the case of the wall outside my office door, once its magical properties finally captured my attention (in 2011) I followed Ruth’s advice and during the brief window of opportunity provided each winter (over a span of three consecutive years) I managed to focus long enough on the same spot so as to more thoroughly explore its aesthetic possibilities. And while I have, since 2014, continued to focus on a variety of subjects other than the wall in question, I never fail to stop and take notice of the exquisite display of light and shadow that annually visits what, otherwise, remains a rather ordinary outpost in my discernible universe. And of course, each year when I do so, I fondly think of Ruth.

Having not previously posted a number of photographs that were captured at what should rightfully be considered one of the most exotic photography destinations I’ve ever visited — a destination which, by coincidence, happens to be less than ten feet from the desk where I currently sit — I thought I’d take the opportunity within this issue of eMusings to feature selected examples from an overall series of photographs that, in homage to Ruth Bernhard, celebrate the gift of the commonplace.

The series is titled: Etudes, and I hope you will enjoy it.


Huntington Witherill