Lögberg-Heimskringla - 29.02.1980, Síða 5

Lögberg-Heimskringla, föstudagur 29 febrúar, 1980
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Or should we start wondering
whether our visual conditioning is
such that we need to look more, and
think more? Can it be that the
photographer has managed what no
didactic mother or father or teacher
ever prepared us to see? All things
considered, this must be the answer
because in a certain light water is
neither b!ue nor green, and
momentarily it may be shining as
brightly as in this picture.
Halldor Laxness, lceland’s Nobel
biguity.
The light is mysterious in many
other shots, even the one from
Nauthosvik in Reykjavik (pl. 70)
with a motorcyclist — mercifully the
one and only vehicle of that kind
depicted in this album. It would
perhaps be unfair to criticize Mc-
Curdy for failing to include cars,
buses, and bicycles in his
“ICELAND!” He apparently abhors
pollution and shows his preference:
there are horses, and they evidently
Jökulsárlón on Breiðamerkursandur
laureate in literature, has written an
introduction to the book in which he
points out that Rembrandt and his
mysterious rendering of mysterious
light and McCurdy’s “super
photography” have something in
common: “they meet in the an-
tithesis. In a photography by Mc-
Curdy you perceive the mysterious
instantaneousness of the universe, a
sort of Second Realization of a
Second World, as in a rough sketch
by the Dutchman.” (pp. 5-7).
The light and this particular
painterly quality are striking in most
of McCurdy’s selection. The sun
greets the viewer in picture after
picture: the sun assuming the central
position, reflected from the surface
of picturesque Myvatn; from
Jokulsarlon; from Keilir; or from the
windows in the cockpit of a Lof-
tledir-Icelandic Airliner. This
mysterious light is shown in
“Bjarnarey and Ellidaey, Eyjafjoll
from Vestmannaeydjar” (pl. 16) and
in the shimmering, silvery, reflected
light of what we normally perceive
as green leaves of seaweed. The
picture appears to be teaming with
life, like a million little fish jumping
or dancing on the surface of the
water! Monet could not have at-
tempted to do this. Here is one
distinction between the easel painter
and the modern photographer: with
modern technique and speed it is
possible to perpetuate a scene, a
transformation, during the instant of
the process. As we know, Monet
placed eight or ten canvasses
alongside each other and walked
from one to the next, feverishly
painting what he experienced as
continually changing. His grand
results differ noticeably from the
photos — for instance in “Hljom-
skalagardur in Reykjavik” and
“Greenhouse in Hveragerdi” (pl.
39-40) — in that subtleties can be
experienced only at a distance,
while in McCurdy’s photographs, it
does not matter if you view it at a
distance or at very close range, the
subtleties are equally visible from
either position. Another difference
between Monet’s and McCurdy’s
work is that ambiguity seems to be
heightened in the photo while the
French painter’s haystack and
waterlily paintings show little am-
provide delightful transportation and
recreation, for both old and young,
as can be seen on the magnificent
spread of riders from Borgarfjordur
(pl. 38). Surely there must be some
machinery as well? Yes, there are
signs of the industrial world, an-
tennas, sparks from welding
equipment and the capital’s
waterfront; in fact, there is some
evidence of refraction from his
camera lens, which he chose not to
retouch — quirks of his own magic
machine. And there is an aerial
picture of Reykjavik. But by and
large McCurdy has this time con-
centrated on pictures of uncluttered
nature, wide expanses, breathtaking
vistas, natural beauty of a kind that
perhaps only Iceland can offer:
water, mountains, snow, and fire,
even the fiery bowels of the earth; a
fqw trees, meadows, gardens, even
a graveyard; also, clouds.
A RARE LIVING
QUALITY
Most of these pictures have a rare
living quality. They evoke a kind of
life that is seldom seen in
photography even among master
'photographers. Anselm Adams and
Edward Weston often seem to strive
for something other than
“aliveness:” Weston’s sand and
dunes have their immaculate rhyth-
mic patterns, seemingly recapturing
the absence of life, as it were.
McCurdy’s cover picture from ■
Eldfell, Heimaey, suggests
movement, moving air, thickening
or thinning, as in a life process; it is
as if the mountain itself were
breathing.
What of the photographer’s
responsibility to show the whole
thing, not just selected portions of
what is seen? How do we treat
novelists or short story writers who
leave out elements and thereby
create a wondering, a mysterious
sense of uncertainty in us readers? I
suppose we applaude them, most of
the time. Should we show any less
appreciation for a photographer?
There are two shots from Hvalf-
jordur (the Whale fjord) — where I
worked for a short time shortly after
World War II, incidentally. The
photo (on pl. 62) is beautiful not
only because of the evening light but
especially because it appears that
this fjord has been left untouched by
humans, as if it had just been
created. But not so! The picture has
been cropped so that nothing of the
whaling station is visible. Indeed, in
the name of truth and balance it was
necessary (at least in order to satisfy
this reviewer) to include one picture
(pl. 49) with some disagreeable
features: sea gulls feasting on a
whale’s entrails, as the whale is
towed in to shore. After all, a too
careful avoidance of the negative
and ugly might verge on sen-
timentality or even outright
deception!
Architecture is a theme
photographers, generally, cherish.
In McCurdy’s case it is the ar-
chitecture of nature with its light and
beauty, that is of principal im-
portance. There are one or two
exceptions, however: he has in-
cluded a masterly picture of two
churches in the nation’s capital,
Hateigskirkja and Hallgrimskirkja —
a perfect picture of the most unlikely
modern architecture. What about
people? There are the riders; the
haymaker (pl. 14) with such
painterly qualities that the
photographer can be assumed to
have learned from some master
painter; workers at a shipyard; men
in the cockpit; folk dancers at
Kjarvalsstadir; a gymnast; a
longshoreman at Laugardalur.
None of these are particularly in-
dividualized; there are, however,
also some excellent portraits: one of
Halldor Laxness-, sitting in his study,
books, notebooks, and telephone
nearby; a young athlete, Gud-
mundur Sigurdsson; the world-
famous pianist, Vladimir Ashkenazy
in his Reykjavik studio in a dark,
pensive mood; • Audur, a young
would-be ballerina of the Icelandic
National Ballet, an extraordinary
picture. But there is something
vaguely ambiguous about this
picture: this princess of elegant
movements is seen only partially
from a favorable position. TTiis is
practice or rehearsal, not per-
formance; instead the exquisite
dress of the performance night, she
is wearing leotards, posed against a
bar and a door, jumping — no,
happily soaring, as if liberated from
gravity. Her strength, her muscles
are evident from the spread of her
marvellous legs and compact
buttocks. It is a photograph that
competes favorably with Henri
Cartier-Bresson’s famous picture of
a man jumping across a pool of
water outside a Paris station. But
while the man is arrested in space on
his way down, this princely ballerina
has been captured on her way up; if
the Parisian demonstrates a solution
to a practical problem, this lovely
Icelandic dancer, with youthful
exuberance and a fair amount of
grace, demonstrates something
non-practical: an act of beauty. As I
remember it, Cartier-Bresson was
shooting from some distance;
perhaps it was a chance shot.
McCurdy, although with mysterious
grainy, pinkish light effects, has shot
the ballet dancer from an extremely
low angle, at closer range, and with
determination to achieve a breath-
taking effect!
Furthermore, there is a
remarkable portrait of the Icelandic
sculptor AsmundurSveinsson, in his
studio, surrounded by his own
creations. His hand — averting,
protecting, or bidding farewell
raised high toward the
photographer’s camera thus appears
enormous. It is literally with his large
hands that this shy and retiring man
has created beauty throughout
nearly a lifetime. He was known to
look away persistently when being
phqtographed. Here he is old and
unwell, and it is up to the viewer to
decide the cryptic message of the
raised hand. The sculptor already
numbers among the dead, but this
image of his will live on and be
cherished. I would like to draw
attention to one detail that perhaps
echoes Cartier-Bresson’s idea of
“the eye within” and “the eye
without” (“With one eye that is
closed, one looks within. With the
other that is open, one looks
without”), because Asmundur looks
us straight in the face with one eye,
but the other eye is in shadow,
clearly 'looking “within,” thus
somewhat reminiscent of Bresson’s
1946 self-portrait involving a similar
situation. The story of these and
other photos will have to be inferred
by the viewers until McCurdy
supplies his pictures with words —
which he has not yet done, except
for some insignificant data on his
Hasselblad camera. It would also be
interesting to know how many trips
he has made to Iceland, what
difficulties he encoqntered, what
surprises, etc.
THE TEXT
The text, authoritative and in-
formative throughout, was written
by the illustrious Icelandic author,
critic and TV personality, Magnus
Magnusson, now rector of the
University of Edinburgh. Space
limitations permit me to mention
only the titles of his eleven chapters:
“What’s Past is Prologue”; “History
in Outline”; “The Making of the
Land”; “The HeatBelowthe Land”;
“The Hall of the Winds”; “Man and
the Land”; “The Sunshine in the
Rock”; “The Bounty of the Sea”;
“The Making of the State”; “Arms
and the Men”; “The Victory of
Learning.” As always, it is
fascinating to read Magnus
Magnusson. In the chart of Icelandic
history it says that Iceland accepted
Christianity in the year 1000, the
traditiónally accepted date. But if I
am not mistaken recent research has
indicated that the correct date was
999.
The American Scandinavian
Foundation has come up with the
excellent idea of issuing a Scan-
dinavian calendar for 1980
especially created by McCurdy.
Here it is, and it is a cool delight. It
consists of spectacular photos from
Iceland, Norway, Finland, Sweden,
and Denmark and celebrates
Scandinavia all year round. It is to
be hoped that the idea of the ASF
calendar will become tradition: the
first place. But, of course, some text
should accompany the photos
identifying the places, time of year,
etc., when the shots were taken,
indications of exposuré time, and
other useful technical information.
Calendars presenting “Literary
Scandinavia”, “Scientific Scan-
dinavia”, “Scandinavia in Film”,
etc., should be an enticing challenge
to photographers, and would have
wide appeal among friends of
Scandinavia, I would think.
Leif Sjoberg
State University of
New York
at Stony Brook,
New Yo'rk
A Imv tare and
astopoverinlceland?
Puffinstíiinktliatis
amightygooddeaL
Now you can take ádvantage of our $20* a day stopover tours
of Iceland while you’re taking advantage of our low APEX fare
from New York, Chicago, or Baltimore/Washington to Great
Britain or Scandinavia. And $20* is a small price to pay to visit one
of the most intéresting countries in the world.
Iceland is a land of volcanoes, Viking museums, glaciers;
geysers, cöncérts, art shows, duty-free shópping and hot-spring
pools. And it’s aB ýours for 1 to 3 days for just $20* a day.
That price includes room with bath/shower at the first class
Hotel Loftleidir, transfers between fiotel and airport, a sightseeing
trip and two meals daily.
So on your next trip to Norway, Sweden, Denmark or Great
Britain, why not stop over in Jceland for a few days? Pufíins
highly recommend that you do so. And Pufíins are iiever wrong.
For further information see your travel agent or contact
Icelandair, P.O. Box 105, West Hempstead, NY11552. Phone
212-757-8585 (New York City only) or call 800-555-1212 for
the toll-free number in your area. •pncesineffcctoct. nhru
AprO 30.1980 and subject tochangc.