South Dome, 6,000 feet 1870 - 1874

Editor: So, here we have Carleton Watkins' "South Dome, 6,000 feet," an albumen print made sometime between 1870 and 1874. There's such a stillness to this image. It’s monumental, sure, but there’s also something very quiet and solitary about it. What draws your eye when you look at this photograph? Curator: You know, I’m drawn to how Watkins uses light. It’s not just about capturing the scene; it’s like he's painting with light. It cascades down Half Dome, highlighting every crevice and curve, creating a tangible sense of depth. Does it feel to you like more than just documentation? Editor: Absolutely! It’s like he's trying to capture the *feeling* of being there, standing in that vastness. It almost romanticizes the landscape in a way. But I wonder, how much of that feeling is shaped by what we already know about Yosemite? Curator: That's a very fair question. But wasn't that always the task for the landscape artist? He uses his subjective view, as influenced by history, popular thinking and personal experience. To shape and give meaning to an otherwise raw vista. When I consider this now, after countless visits from painters and photographers after him. I find myself thinking. Does this capture of raw grand nature romanticize? or rather, bring raw reality down to a comprehensible size? What do you think? Editor: Hmm, interesting! I guess I'd never considered it that way before. The sheer scale of Yosemite is intimidating. This photograph provides a sense of control and understanding. The composition certainly organizes the overwhelming nature into a digestible image, that then can elicit romantic admiration. I see what you mean. Thanks!