Cape Horn, Columbia River 1867

Editor: This gelatin silver print, titled *Cape Horn, Columbia River*, was taken in 1867 by Carleton Watkins. It's beautiful, almost dreamlike with that misty riverbank, but it also feels…monumental, like it's trying to capture something immense and enduring. What do you see in this work? Curator: What I find compelling here is the stark contrast between the natural majesty of the cliff face and river, and the subtle, almost hidden, traces of human presence – the small cabin, the fence. The photograph operates as a powerful symbol of the frontier, that constant interplay between humanity's ambitions and nature's immutable power. Editor: So you’re saying the photograph uses visual cues to tell a bigger story about the time it was made? Curator: Precisely. Consider the title itself, "Cape Horn," invoking images of treacherous journeys and geographical exploration, juxtaposed with the reality of settling a new land, cutting lumber. Do you think the monochrome reinforces that tension? Editor: Absolutely! It emphasizes the contrasts, makes the textures stand out more, highlighting the drama of it all. Were photographs of this type used to entice further settlers? Curator: Without question. Watkins and others presented a specific vision: untamed wilderness ripe for transformation, while hinting at an almost romantic isolation. The symbol of ‘manifest destiny’ comes to mind…but one where the landscape is as much a character in the play, and not passive and pliable, don’t you agree? Editor: Yes, definitely. I learned that even landscapes carry culturally significant meanings through a blend of symbols. Curator: Agreed. We've merely scratched the surface of decoding this remarkable photograph and it's echoes from history!