Ulophot
19-Nov-2016, 09:44
John Sexton’s Places of Power, The Aesthetics of Technology
I begin this thread with the acknowledgement that this book undoubtedly drew much discussion here when it was published in 2000 and in the years immediately following. However, given the challenge of extracting the threads in searches, and, in the interest of others who may not have seen the book, which met my eyes only last week, I will share a few thoughts, including some I shared in a note to Mr. Sexton’s contact address recently.
Places of Power, The Aesthetics of Technology, is superb in every respect, from conception through detail of execution. Sexton writes in it about his intention to compose the book as a unity, and he addresses the very fact that he chose to publish a physical book rather than rely on electronic publication. The design, paper quality, and printing are as fine as any I have come across, and, by design, the writing complements the conception of the book elegantly, with what one might justly call harmonious, or perhaps contrapuntal, contributions from Walter Cronkite and Sexton's friend Rob Pike.
While this forum is not a place for advancing philosophical or political beliefs, one cannot speak of this book fully without its subject, which unifies the three components: photographs of the Anasazi cliff-dwelling ruins, of the Hoover dam and electric-power-generating plants, and of the NASA space shuttle—technological achievements representing past, present, and future. The three writers speak to this remarkable group extraordinarily well; I will only add here, that they touch on something fundamental which deserves serious consideration by the public at large at a time when the word technology has been distorted in common parlance to refer only to electronic technology. Pike notes that technology was necessary for the first cave painter—he needed a marking instrument—and says, “Technology define us. It makes us human.” There’s a vital kernel of truth in that statement.
Like his teacher and friend Ansel Adams, Sexton loves Classical music. If any reader here shares this passion, he or she may find it interesting to consider, for example, Johannes Brahms’s Intermezzo in A, Op. 118, No. 2 for solo piano, as a "compositional complement" in some ways to, particularly, the Anasazi images. (I strongly recommend the performance by the young Dutch pianist, Arthur Jussen, found on YouTube, both for its moderate tempo and exceptionally thoughtful phrasing and voicing.) I do not mean the sort of multi-media experience that requires the viewer to hear music while viewing the images. Sexton has found a way to combine timeless stillness with the sometimes swirling, other times angular, apparent motion of the wind-eroded sandstone cliffs in a manner that conveys the unfolding of seemingly conflicting but lawfully intertwined processes. The process of composition of the mentioned Brahms piece, in my view, shares something of this with some of Sexton’s images. In the context of the book as a whole, the ironies of his compositions are indeed especially powerful.
As rich as the reproductions in the book are, the full-sized silver prints from this master of the medium must be breath-taking. One can only hope that exhibitions of this unified work will be “coming soon to a gallery near you!” Meanwhile, the book is a rare treat. Consider obtaining one through inter-library loan, as I did, if you can‘t get one otherwise.
I begin this thread with the acknowledgement that this book undoubtedly drew much discussion here when it was published in 2000 and in the years immediately following. However, given the challenge of extracting the threads in searches, and, in the interest of others who may not have seen the book, which met my eyes only last week, I will share a few thoughts, including some I shared in a note to Mr. Sexton’s contact address recently.
Places of Power, The Aesthetics of Technology, is superb in every respect, from conception through detail of execution. Sexton writes in it about his intention to compose the book as a unity, and he addresses the very fact that he chose to publish a physical book rather than rely on electronic publication. The design, paper quality, and printing are as fine as any I have come across, and, by design, the writing complements the conception of the book elegantly, with what one might justly call harmonious, or perhaps contrapuntal, contributions from Walter Cronkite and Sexton's friend Rob Pike.
While this forum is not a place for advancing philosophical or political beliefs, one cannot speak of this book fully without its subject, which unifies the three components: photographs of the Anasazi cliff-dwelling ruins, of the Hoover dam and electric-power-generating plants, and of the NASA space shuttle—technological achievements representing past, present, and future. The three writers speak to this remarkable group extraordinarily well; I will only add here, that they touch on something fundamental which deserves serious consideration by the public at large at a time when the word technology has been distorted in common parlance to refer only to electronic technology. Pike notes that technology was necessary for the first cave painter—he needed a marking instrument—and says, “Technology define us. It makes us human.” There’s a vital kernel of truth in that statement.
Like his teacher and friend Ansel Adams, Sexton loves Classical music. If any reader here shares this passion, he or she may find it interesting to consider, for example, Johannes Brahms’s Intermezzo in A, Op. 118, No. 2 for solo piano, as a "compositional complement" in some ways to, particularly, the Anasazi images. (I strongly recommend the performance by the young Dutch pianist, Arthur Jussen, found on YouTube, both for its moderate tempo and exceptionally thoughtful phrasing and voicing.) I do not mean the sort of multi-media experience that requires the viewer to hear music while viewing the images. Sexton has found a way to combine timeless stillness with the sometimes swirling, other times angular, apparent motion of the wind-eroded sandstone cliffs in a manner that conveys the unfolding of seemingly conflicting but lawfully intertwined processes. The process of composition of the mentioned Brahms piece, in my view, shares something of this with some of Sexton’s images. In the context of the book as a whole, the ironies of his compositions are indeed especially powerful.
As rich as the reproductions in the book are, the full-sized silver prints from this master of the medium must be breath-taking. One can only hope that exhibitions of this unified work will be “coming soon to a gallery near you!” Meanwhile, the book is a rare treat. Consider obtaining one through inter-library loan, as I did, if you can‘t get one otherwise.