A dispatch from the road… I’m somewhere in the middle of Nebraska working on my “Pioneers” project; loosely following the immigrant trails and therefore the Platte River as it ribbons it’s shallow way ever up through increasingly rougher western terrain. It’s not yet lunch time but because I’ve been waking up long before the sun (we are all slaves to the light) I’m leaning heavily on my fist, one eye shut, sucking down diner coffee and gathering my thoughts before continuing on.
Mostly I’m acting on instinct because it’s the only thing I’m prepared to do since my project is still in rough outline. Occasionally I see something interesting and after passing it in my rental car I U-turn back and decide if it is the right kind of interesting. I chose to follow a section of the Oregon Trail to sort of focus my path and give the trip some structure but the once well trod (estimates of up to 500,000 immigrants before the railroad was connected in 1862) trail is now nearly empty. At the Chimney Rock visitors center this morning I was out numbered by employees 2:1. Chimney Rock is interesting but the light was crap and you can’t get close enough and even if you trespassed the field is filled with rattlesnakes and really pissed off grasshoppers.
The weather is beautiful, actually perfect road trip skies and crispness. The A/C hasn’t been on once since leaving Denver airport. I’m most likely going to burn the crap out of my skull yet again (my recent Texas trip has only recently stopped peeling away).
Thankfully the RZ is beginning to feel less awkward in my hands and loading film into backs again is sort of great. I’m only using 2 films and have been shooting at a respectable clip thus far. Working alongside one of the largest train yards in the country before sunrise this morning I reveled in the slow exposures and minute adjustments to the tripod head. Simple, unrestrained photography.
Aesthetically the project is still wide open – insert either fishing or hunting metaphor. I want to feel the vastness of the west in the pictures, the bleached details and 40-mile visibility. I don’t want the images to be snarky in their promised un-sentimentality, but I have also been sort of cropping out signs of modernity when possible (there will still be plenty hundreds of power lines stretching into infinity) which might be a mistake. This is supposed to be a modern document but the pull to see the west through antique eyes is very strong.
I’m hoping to wake up again far before the sun at higher elevation tomorrow morning and then tack back southwest into Salt Lake City. The only rule is to shoot most of my film and find a way back to board my flight home to NYC on Saturday.





