The photographs I’ve chosen for the Silence of Nature exhibition were taken last spring in Iceland. They are part of a larger series to be titled Drive By Shooting.
My first glimpse of Iceland from the air reminded me of Prince Edward Island, with its wide expanse of red-toned earth perched on the edge of nowhere, but once we landed and were on our way to Reykjavik we could have been on the moon. On either side of the roadway, black volcanic fields stretched to the horizon. The vastness of the barren land was hypnotic. We traveled for miles before I saw anything but tumbled rock.
Iceland is a photographer’s dream. The light is clear and intense. The scenery is varied and dramatic. The added bonus for me was the many hours spent traveling because I particularly like the exhilaration of photographing from planes, cars, buses, boats – anything that moves.
While moving, the window view becomes a flowing ribbon of images - tiny, bigger, biggest, gone. The vista unfolds like a film. Capturing a segment is thrilling. It’s completely intuitive. You’re totally focussed and alert. Objects pop into view and slide by the window. You only get one chance. A camera captures these unique moments and allows us to examine them, savour their beauty and question what is beyond the frame.
A case could be made that there’s a contradiction presenting the Silence of Nature as seen from a speeding car yet the images convey the landscape as I saw it. I reveled in the stillness and majesty of all the magnificent views. I hope you do too.