Wires, Guilford, Connecticut 1991

Editor: James Welling captured "Wires, Guilford, Connecticut" back in 1991, using a gelatin-silver print. There's something almost oppressive about the dense blacks and the way the wires slice through the image, like unwanted thoughts. What strikes you when you look at it? Curator: Oppressive is a great word! It feels less like a classic landscape and more like a psychological study. Welling often plays with the act of seeing itself, almost as if the wires and branches are conspiring to obstruct our view. Think of them as visual noise—interference—hiding what's behind. Does it make you think of the way technology is often invisible until it isn't? Editor: I hadn't considered the technological aspect. So the wires aren't just, well, wires? Curator: Exactly! Welling is sly. On the surface, it's a tree, some power lines. But look closer. How does this mesh with the history of landscape photography which romanticizes the natural? Suddenly, it’s a photograph OF power, literally, but also the power *over* nature. Makes you a little uneasy, doesn’t it? Editor: Definitely. The title seems so straightforward, but you've made me realize it's dripping with irony. I came in thinking "pretty picture, slightly gloomy," but I’m leaving with a whole new level of awareness! Curator: Isn’t that the joy of art? It holds up a mirror to the world, sometimes smudged, sometimes cracked, always fascinating if you're willing to peek closer. Who knew such mundane wires could have such charge!