Park City 56 1979

Lewis Baltz made "Park City 56" with photography, capturing a moment in time. Baltz seems to be composing in shades of gray, a tonal landscape, with a muted palette. It reminds me that art-making is always a process of selection and framing. There's such a bleak, tactile quality to this image. The grainy texture of the earth is palpable, giving this landscape a voice. I find myself drawn to the tire tracks in the foreground, they cut through the earth, disrupting its surface and creating these insistent lines that lead the eye toward the hills. Those lines mirroring the harsher, man-made lines of the wires strung above. This gesture, this mark, speaks to a larger narrative of human intervention on the land. Baltz's approach reminds me a little of Ed Ruscha. Both artists share a fascination with the vernacular landscape, finding beauty and significance in the mundane and overlooked. And, as with Ruscha, there's a sense of cool detachment. It's a reminder that art doesn't always have to be pretty or comfortable. It can be challenging, provocative, and open to multiple readings.