Buttermilk Creek, Ithaca, N.Y. Steeple Rock from below, 50 feet 1860 - 1865

Curator: Right, let’s dive into this image by J.C. Burritt, created sometime between 1860 and 1865. It's a gelatin silver print titled "Buttermilk Creek, Ithaca, N.Y. Steeple Rock from below, 50 feet," currently residing here at the Art Institute. Editor: Ah, my first thought is that the sepia tones create this incredible sense of aged timelessness, like peering into a memory. There is something dreamlike in how it holds onto light and shadow... Curator: A dreamlike quality indeed! You know, what strikes me is how this photograph encapsulates that Hudson River School romanticism, but through a photographic lens. It attempts to capture the sublime grandeur of the American landscape. The water cascading over the rocks gives it this constant sense of motion in contrast to that monolithic rock formation. Editor: Yes, and that water…Water often symbolizes purification, transition, and the subconscious. In this image, the steeple rock seems to act as a guardian, overseeing the constant flow and change. Do you see the little figure standing at the rockbase? Curator: I do. I almost missed her. Its small scale highlights both the immense majesty and somewhat intimidating nature of this “Steeple Rock.” Placing that human figure there makes it an exercise in scale but perhaps more interestingly adds a contemplative mood. Editor: Right, the scale emphasizes the sublime—that overwhelming sense of awe in nature that the Romantics were so fond of. Perhaps, it whispers about the insignificance of the individual but also highlights that enduring spirit in us. Curator: Precisely! And you think about it—this photograph was created during the Civil War era, such landscape imagery provided solace. There’s that yearning for something stable, permanent, perhaps. It almost functions as a visual poem, offering peace amidst conflict. Editor: It absolutely does. I mean, even now, looking at this image—captured in silver, holding both light and darkness— it is comforting, a journey through our collective longing for stability. Curator: Well, that gives us something to think about as we venture into the next exhibit, doesn’t it? Editor: Yes, a quiet reminder that even stillness can contain a world of feeling.