Along the Missouri River, north of Kansas City, Missouri 1979

Curator: Here, we're looking at Robert Adams' 1979 gelatin-silver print, "Along the Missouri River, north of Kansas City, Missouri." Editor: Well, that title pretty much sums it up, doesn’t it? My immediate reaction is one of… starkness. That biting Midwestern winter look. The light seems so brittle. Curator: It's characteristic of Adams' style, actually. He’s often drawn to these seemingly banal landscapes that reveal subtle commentary about development and its impact on the environment. This one is typical of his austere approach, devoid of the romanticized views we often associate with landscape photography. Editor: Austere is the perfect word. Even cold. It reminds me of growing up in the Midwest, honestly. That sort of muted, melancholic beauty that’s easy to overlook when you’re stuck inside waiting for spring. I get the sense he wants us to see the beauty there, though it's… well, challenging. Curator: Exactly. What appears unremarkable is loaded with complex narratives if we only examine it more closely. The seemingly simple composition reveals underlying concerns about land use, industrial encroachment, and their consequences, subjects often engaged in Adams' work. Look how the power lines bisect the natural scene; it emphasizes that tension. Editor: You’re right, the lines feel almost violent against the landscape. It is funny, the older I get, the more power lines seem to invade nature… though probably the older I get the more I notice, rather than any material change. Still, in comparison to romantic paintings of yore, where nature looks almost innocent, untouched, this makes nature feel assaulted somehow. Curator: Precisely! And I think this work is powerful, exactly because of that subtlety. It allows us to question our own role in this dynamic instead of preaching to us. That element of contemplation he elicits is vital. Editor: It leaves you thinking, that's for sure. Makes me want to grab a thick sweater and contemplate a very large glass of something warm. Adams gets you thinking about the beauty and sadness inherent to being human. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon! Curator: A very good point and a sentiment I completely agree with.