Poplars, Lake George 1933

Alfred Stieglitz made this photograph, Poplars, Lake George with gelatin silver. There's this way the silvery greys of the sky seem to bleed down into the trees, like the whole image is breathing, softening the edges between things. It feels like a process, like the world is constantly in motion, just like artmaking. Look closely at the stark, bare branches reaching up. They’re so delicate against the moody sky. The texture is so detailed, you can almost feel the roughness of the bark, the fragility of the twigs. This part of the tree is echoed below by the undergrowth. These wiry details give the image a real weight. It's like a conversation between the solid, earthy greens and the ethereal greys above. Stieglitz reminds me a little of Georgia O’Keefe, finding these monumental forms in nature. Ultimately, it’s this sense of searching, of trying to capture something fleeting and alive, that makes this photograph so compelling.