Measuring spruce logs 1894

Curator: Okay, "Measuring Spruce Logs," a photograph from 1894, it says here... First impressions? Editor: It's…orderly, but somber. The regimented lines of logs are strangely still. It gives off an atmosphere of impending quietude, as though something monumental is on the cusp. I wonder, how should one approach such a photo? Curator: Well, it is evocative isn’t it? The way those logs line up receding into space. Have you ever wondered about all that is lost to time? In its stoic record of material, this photograph also suggests an awareness, no doubt, of the coming age when such trees may be relics of the past, or not present in such mass and girth… So, do you see any elements in this photo that may be indicators of the aesthetic interests of the photographer G.H. Rison? Editor: Mmm…the framing… there’s such emphasis on structure. You get the feeling he wants to illustrate a principle: that our perception depends on measurement. That our ways of making are always being tallied. Almost feels as if a morality of measure has been imposed in our viewing here... But I may be reaching. Curator: Not at all, these are some astute observations. There’s almost an unspoken, looming melancholy underscoring this industrial shot. Almost elegiac, in my view. And yes, our measuring always serves as a form of ordering… Did you note, even, that this shot accompanies the printed page on logging? Perhaps we were being asked to be aware that we are always ordering through language itself. Editor: A melancholy and measured portrait of progress... Interesting. Curator: Exactly, exactly! The intersection of human enterprise and the quiet dignity of nature, each laid bare and subject to measurement. A paradox that resonates still. We always measure... to what end? Editor: True! I leave with more questions than answers...