Light on water

I am out at the northern-most reaches of Eyjafjördur with Jón for some hours on a brilliant and long July day in 1992, there is an Arctic breeze blowing from the North. The sky is the transparent pale blue of high latitude summer. Most summers, Jón puts his 1-1/2 ton fishing boat, the Arnarberg R101, out to harbor on Hrísey, and whenever someone in the family will join him, he steams north to the mouth of the fjord to catch cod, sea carp, and sea trout with hook-and-line.

Earlier in the spring I spent a few days with Jón on Hrísey, carefully painting the name and number of the boat on the external bridge walls, port and starboard, and helping tune up the mechanicals of the boat for the upcoming season. Jón is retired from a life of fishing on the North Atlantic and loves to be out on the water. He has the far clear sight of a sea captain.

Because we are almost exactly on the Arctic Circle, the sun never gets very high in the sky. Thirty-seven degrees at high noon on the summer solstice to be exact. Consequently, when out on the sea in a small boat, the sun is almost constantly in position to both reflect and shine sunLight direct in one’s eyes from the sky and from the water simultaneously.

The spectrum of the Arctic Light is shifted towards the cold blue/ultraviolet and shorter wavelength end of the visible spectrum because of the filtering effect of the atmosphere — the Light is sharp and intense. Quite the opposite of the red-shifted tropical and southern Light which manifests more at the warm red/infrared and longer, softening wavelengths. I recall being surprised at the color of the rising sun and moon in Iceland. There is nothing of the dull dark red of the industrial southern sun or the pregnant orange moon—more a sharp white-yellow glare at the moment the sun crests a far horizon, and the full moon rises slow with a dainty and pale pink. There are also some similarities between Arctic Light and Light manifestations at high altitude—significant time in the Rocky Mountains, the Alps, and the Sierra Madres teaches those characteristics—high contrast, sharp delineation of objects, Light, and shadow, and a most of all, a penetrating presence.

When moving through the landscape or seascape of Iceland it is impossible to avoid the intense and energizing impressions, the elemental flux of Light in electric synergy with water. That particular day on the ocean is only one of many memorable instances where I experienced this powerful binary electrification. At one exact moment that day, the brilliant Arctic Light entered my eyes and penetrated deep into my Mind where, to this time, it burns a Place in my Soul. Using the Light and Silver of the photographic process, I make images in an attempt to further synergize this internal and external manifestation of life force. I have selected a few of the three hundred images made up to now. I guess I have always been conscious of this phenomenon, especially as a swimmer and surfer — I find it strong magic to be interacting and absorbing Light through the eyes. It is no coincidence that I am drawn to photography, as it is a medium that confronts, mediates, and reflects the energies of Light at myriad levels.

It was after my first full winter in Iceland when a small but significant change crept into my writing. You notice here, whenever the word Light appears, it is with an uppercase “L”, always. It was not a conscious decision, it merely happened that way. I notice now, when I am at lower latitudes, that I am much less sensitive to Light as an element, and my subjective awareness shifts from the ethereal to more material levels.

In later images, the Light on water has become a constructive element in a number of other types of images, including portraits. Now, I always have a consciousness of these various interactions of Light around me and it is when I am distracted from this consciousness that I suffer the most from the buffetings of normal life. Keeping eyes to the Light.

I had an immediate attraction to the area surrounding the cathedral Saint Madeline de Vézèlay when I first visited it in 1982 with Rick, Randy, and Steve. In subsequent visits, I discovered that the cathedral was originally designed and constructed by a sect called “The Brothers of Light”. They carefully considered every material characteristic of the structure and site as it related to Light. Theirs is the short recitation that forms the judgement of this section…