ansel adams' america 1

 

Well, I've been dogging it long enough. I did go to the Ansel Adams show at the Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art in Waltonville, Ark. I mean, Bentonville. Yes, I dared the coronavirus and the La Quinta Inn. And I don't really feel qualified to review the show, since I whipped through it, partly due to the fact that the boy with us got claustrophobic in the gallery. Understandable. So did I, to a degree. The museum is under renovation (yes, it opened in 2011, not even ten years ago), as is its vision of what constitutes American art. 

  A security guard told me that, despite the crane, or lift, or whatever it is, birds came to roost in the silver tree, one of the many sculptures on the grounds of the museum. Some, like the transported and reconstructed Frank Lloyd Wright house and James Turrell's "Skyspace" are not open due to Covid restrictions. (OK with me in the latter case, since it made both Dianne and me queasy when we visited some years ago.)

So, incapable of editing all the pix I took (they are bad and not worth the title of photographs), I am just going to have to put up an interminable number. If you don't want a badly realized, poorly cropped, virtual museum tour, just skip. 

The thing about Ansel Adams is, is you can't think about the American landscape, particularly the National Parks, without seeing his images in your head, even if you don't know they are his. Yosemite, particularly, with El Capitan and Half Dome, in every weather and time of year and day and night imaginable. He began in 1916 and would continue through the 1960s. It was likely arduous work at the time, to get to the places he photographed with a giant camera: Joshua Tree, Grand Canyon, Canyon de Chelly, Bryce Canyon, Zion, etc. I have never been to Yosemite, but I am pretty sure if I ever go, I will be disappointed that it doesn't look like his Yosemite.