I saw the beautiful picture below a couple of days ago in the New York Times, accompanying an article about the wildfires that were burning in Southern France. It shows people taking refuge on a beach as the fires burned in the distance.
As I look at the image more closely, I'm finding it difficult not to see the people in it as being at leisure, even though I am fully aware that they have been displaced against their wills. The quality of light in the foreground reminds me of the hour just before dusk, though the picture may have been taken in the middle of a sunny day darkened by smoke. Dusk often brings with it a lovely, calming light, and it is my favorite time of day at the beach.
I am currently recalling the hot and humid summer days of my childhood, remembering when early evening would sometimes lessen the oppressiveness of the day's weather. And even though the image illustrates what I believe must be a tragedy, it is hard to convince myself that there is not something of a relief to the scene, summer weather being on my mind as it is.
I began the second paragraph in this short blog piece stating that I looked at the picture more closely, because the first and last thing that I notice in it are the beautiful warm grey, grey-pink, and orange tones of the smoke which dominate it. Still, as I look at it for perhaps the fifteenth time, I find it difficult not to dwell on those beautiful colors.
I have always found it remarkable how stunning destruction can sometimes be when photographed.
I think of the color pictures on newsprint from the New York Times, the day after the September 11th attacks, and the small, beautiful bursts of fire from the plane fuel igniting. I saved those pictures for a long time.
Similarly, the concentration of orange color in the picture below serves as a focal point, and here functions as the catalyst for all of those wonderful grey hues. And although I don't believe I can see anything without context, I think that sometimes seeing can be a great pleasure all on its' own.
As I look at the image more closely, I'm finding it difficult not to see the people in it as being at leisure, even though I am fully aware that they have been displaced against their wills. The quality of light in the foreground reminds me of the hour just before dusk, though the picture may have been taken in the middle of a sunny day darkened by smoke. Dusk often brings with it a lovely, calming light, and it is my favorite time of day at the beach.
I am currently recalling the hot and humid summer days of my childhood, remembering when early evening would sometimes lessen the oppressiveness of the day's weather. And even though the image illustrates what I believe must be a tragedy, it is hard to convince myself that there is not something of a relief to the scene, summer weather being on my mind as it is.
I began the second paragraph in this short blog piece stating that I looked at the picture more closely, because the first and last thing that I notice in it are the beautiful warm grey, grey-pink, and orange tones of the smoke which dominate it. Still, as I look at it for perhaps the fifteenth time, I find it difficult not to dwell on those beautiful colors.
I have always found it remarkable how stunning destruction can sometimes be when photographed.
I think of the color pictures on newsprint from the New York Times, the day after the September 11th attacks, and the small, beautiful bursts of fire from the plane fuel igniting. I saved those pictures for a long time.
Similarly, the concentration of orange color in the picture below serves as a focal point, and here functions as the catalyst for all of those wonderful grey hues. And although I don't believe I can see anything without context, I think that sometimes seeing can be a great pleasure all on its' own.
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