The River’s Edge 2015

Curator: What strikes me first is how empty it feels, despite the presence of so many trees. The land seems… desolate. Editor: It’s definitely restrained. The image we're looking at, "The River’s Edge," a photograph created by Robert Adams in 2015 using the gelatin-silver print method. Adams captured a landscape that speaks volumes about humanity’s impact, particularly environmental concerns, through his lens. Curator: A lone tree stump looms prominently in the foreground. The composition centers our gaze on its stark, silent witness to the scene. It resembles a human figure or perhaps an ancient deity observing human actions, hinting at disruption. It could signal a broken connection to nature or simply be about what persists and what vanishes. Editor: Adams' use of black and white enhances this mood, almost as a eulogy. Think of the impact of documentary photography; works by Jacob Riis or Dorothea Lange in the early 20th century that served as social criticism, demonstrating photography's impact on public awareness. Adams is tapping into that visual lineage. Curator: I see it. It's that sense of unflinching observation. What symbols did Adams work with to highlight the human effect? How do you see that playing out here? Editor: Beyond the fallen tree, I note the harsh, straight lines on the landscape’s horizon, possibly roads or signs of industrial development. Adams is using what he observes in nature to underscore the dichotomy: a raw, natural world adjacent to human alteration, each eroding the other. His images have historically prompted conversation, and at times, some outrage related to logging practices. Curator: I find this particularly compelling: the way this scene invokes these powerful connections while leaving plenty open for personal experience. Editor: Agreed. This gelatin silver print of Adams delivers an eerie, quiet testament. The symbolism resonates long after one turns away.