Musing February 2009
ODIN STONE: Frontispiece, Plates 1, 2, 3
This month begins a series of Musings on the images that appear in ODIN STONE.
Frontispiece: Sunset, Standing Stones of Stenness, Orkney, 2007
Why? This is the question that haunts me about the standing stones, not just on Orkney but those appearing all over Great Britain and France. We can guess at the “who” and “when” but we really have no idea as to “why”. Some historians conjecture the stones were built to serve as an astronomical calendar and in places that theory has been verified mathematically, though it is not absolute proof. Although quite curious myself about the history of the stones, I set out simply to make images that reflected the idea of the stones marking the passage of time. So on a beautiful August evening I realized the opportunity to photograph the sunset through the stones.
As the sunset lined up behind this magnificent stone, I worked quickly. I used every lens in my camera bag and shot with both the 5x12 and the 5x7. I shot this scene vertically and horizontally, both with absolute sharp focus and with my soft focus lens. When I saw this image on the ground glass I knew I had the image I was looking for. As the shadow lengthened and the stone blocked the setting sun, here was my shadow of time. I just hoped the print would carry the connection I felt with the Neolithic architects who set these stones up. I have felt for a long time that this particular stone was the inspiration for Stanley Kurbric’s monolith in 2001 A Space Odyssey because every time I am in the presence of this stone images from that movie flash through my mind.
Plate 1: Fog, Standing Stones of Stenness, Orkney, 2005
On the next to last morning of an October trip to Orkney, I was sitting in the breakfast nook at Ramsquoy Farm watching the gentle daybreak. It had been a tough month of shooting, and I had not gotten all of the images I wanted. To me the Stones of Brodgar and Stenness were architectural achievements and also mysterious monuments. I watched the sky lighten as dawn approached and noticed a white glow over the Loch of Stenness. It hit me very quickly that I was seeing fog on the Loch, and if there was settling fog then there was no wind. I jumped up from the table, left my tea where it sat, grabbed my equipment and ran out the door. Within minutes I was at the Stones of Stenness in a wonderfully thick fog. This was the first image I made that morning. I wanted to show the size of the stones so I chose to fill half the frame with one stone. I was so close that I could reach out and touch it. With a wide-angle lens I was able to capture the stone immediately to the right of this one with the light of the rising sun diffused by the fog. Finally I had my image that conveyed, I hoped, the over whelming mystery I feel when standing within these stones.
Plate 2: Lane, Stromness, Orkney, 2005
Stromness faces Scapa Flow, the large protected body of water which mainland Orkney surrounds in a semicircular embrace. Its streets are narrow and winding to protect the houses and inhabitants from the biting wind and blowing sea. The town’s buildings are scattered up the hillside providing its citizens a beautiful view out over Scapa Flow. This image captures both for me, the narrowness of the lanes and streets and the elegant eastern view of Scapa Flow.
Plate 3: Rousay Ferry, Rousay, Orkney, 2007
Orkney is an archipelago of approximately seventy islands. The primary way to arrive in Orkney is by ferry, hence the term ferrylouper. The Orkney Island Council runs an inter-island ferry, servicing most, if not all, of the inhabited islands. In order to visit these outer islands you must travel by ferry. This day I had been to Rousay, Egilsay, and Wyre. On the return trip to Mainland Orkney, I decided to take the 5x12 Hobo camera up on the deck overlooking the parked cars to see if I could make a photograph of the ferry as it moved back towards home. A long exposure with the camera sitting on the railing captured the movement of the ferry while the cars remained sharp. It creates, for me, the feeling of gentle movement on a beautiful summer day.