A fish out of water
The Salton Sea 2019.
As the year came to an end, I became increasingly exposed to shooting more landscapes than anything, which had already started planting seeds of curiosity, as I had started wondering already, if I were a landscape photographer, what vision would I pursue? And I had no idea, so a frustration was also creeping in that sense. As I had no idea so far, I had no choice than to walk out as I usually would for my urban photography, and start seeing how my process should adapt itself to this different subject matter. In a way, I felt like a fish out of his element.
It turned out to be a perfect warm up, for as the new year started I had a trip planned with Johnny Kerr, to this place he had been to before and had thought I would enjoy photographing as well, the Salton Sea, CA.
A 5 hr drive that we stretched out with multiple stops along the way. Stops to photograph something that we thought was interesting and the first stop is always hard, as we both start seeing interesting things but there's an unfamiliarity still, cautious to take the first step, to make it count, or some such thing.
Anyways, the first stop you gotta get out of the way as soon as you can, to get it out of your system, and start opening the possibilities. Even better if it flops like mine did, as it turned out to be one of those things you thought was going to look better but it didn't. But it served its purpose as the following stops were called in a lighter spirit, allowing the whimsical nature of seeing to guide us.
The Salton Sea is a lake that is receding and has long been in neglect, the increasing salinity of the water killing its fish. It was a surreal experience for sure, as this overall grim phenomena, was contrasted by the photogenic beauty it was leaving in its wake. The salt content staining things around it in different shades ranging from ash white to salmon pink, passing through teal. The sand, if you could call it sand, was mostly crushed fish bones, feet deep in some areas, in which your boot would sink to ankle level and even at times uncover a smelly bough. The neglect freckling the overall scene with some odd elements, previously submerged but have since been exposed as the water recedes year after year.
The different towns scattered across the lake, bare signs of a previous touristic boom, 1970ish propaganda fading and peeling away with time. People still making a life out here...some way. One spot in particular had even embraced the urban neglect visual aesthetic and had decorated some landmarks with graffiti and some other props.
Coming into this, both curious and frustrated, the crushed bones I stepped on were an ominous reminder to what happens to fish who stay too long of water. We spent most of our waking hours photographing the scenes, making stops along one side of the coast one day, the other side the next day. I was exploring, trying to find my voice within landscape photography, wondering if I had one, and came out the other end unsure of it all.
Don't get me wrong, the trip was great and I look forward to repeating it again, I had a great time spending most of my waking time taking pictures, spending time with my friend and fellow artist, and in a way the trip affirmed experientially "Yes, I can do this all day without breaking a sweat" so to speak. In order words, the experience echoed with something deep within me, telling me I was meant for this.
I'm still in the process of working through these photos, and I'll probably leave some for later as I enjoy leaving myself nice surprises (you're welcome future me), but in the meantime let me share these two with you:
I chose these because one of the things I guess I got out of shooting landscapes, is that mood is important in this type of photography (yes, it is important to most types of photography but in landscapes its a pillar) or at least I find it is to me. The mood of the inner trip I took to the Salton Sea, I feel is echoed on these landscapes.
Hope you enjoy,
Andres Gonzalez
