Gezicht op de ijsstroom van Upernavik vanaf Qeqertarsuaq before 1888

Editor: This photograph, a gelatin-silver print entitled "Gezicht op de ijsstroom van Upernavik vanaf Qeqertarsuaq," was taken before 1888. It depicts a Greenlandic ice flow and possesses an incredible texture; it looks so vast and immutable, a bit like gazing at time itself. How do you interpret this work? Curator: This image, appearing at the end of the 19th century, calls to mind urgent contemporary dialogues around environmental justice. Considering that this landscape is now drastically altered by climate change, what does it mean to see it captured through the lens of, presumably, a Western photographer over a century ago? Editor: So you're suggesting that we view this image as a historical document, not just as an objective rendering of a landscape? Curator: Precisely. We need to interrogate whose gaze is privileged here, and what power dynamics are at play in the act of documenting a landscape so profoundly impacted by colonial and industrial activities. Photography itself becomes an implicated medium. Is the "objective" scientific survey truly unbiased? What communities have been dispossessed from this terrain? Editor: That reframes everything. I hadn't considered the power dynamics inherent in landscape photography of that era. Curator: Ask yourself how might Indigenous perspectives challenge or complicate our understanding of this image, knowing the role of western powers in disrupting traditional ways of life in that part of the world? Editor: I suppose by approaching it through that lens, it really encourages a deeper examination of our relationship to environmental exploitation. Curator: Exactly, this image becomes a springboard for a wider dialogue about accountability and stewardship. Perhaps visual art is capable of catalysing systemic change.