At 3:30 a.m. I hear the engine shut down, so I venture out onto the deck to see if we have arrived at our destination after taking the long way around. And in fact, we have arrived at Isla Pictón, the northernmost island of the grouping of Pictón, Lennox, and Nueva islands, and the last of our targeted areas for this year. Each of these islands still houses a naval outpost, left from a time in the 1970s when Chile anticipated Argentina would invade them. To this day, Juan feels pride in the fact that Chile defended these three islands and still holds them. On the downside, Chile also land-mined parts of the islands as part of their defense. This accounts at least in part for all the security and the hassles to get permission to visit them.
It’s a delicate patina that defines Joel Kroin’s photographs. Each black and white image takes on the small specks, blurs, and aberrations of antique film–not far off from how they first appeared when the method was developed in the mid-19th century. Known as camera obscura, or the pinhole camera, Joel has fashioned his own devices from various containers and hand-operated shutters, finding the technique still well-suited to capturing near untouched wilderness. Say, for example, the largest old growth forest in New York City.
Kroin’s work varies with the seasons, of course. Not all landscapes fit the bill for such a time-consuming process. Stately summer trees rounded with foliage make for difficult subjects in a medium which values contrast–too many leaves, too much movement. But the inherent stillness of a winter wood, with its sharp network of barren branches, makes all the difference. Here is where Kroin’s pinhole expertise comes into its own.
The Tropical Paradise Photography Contest is officially over, which means we have our winners! It’s been a challenging competition not only for the participating photographers, but for the NYBG judges as well–selecting six weeks of winners from such a broad field of top-notch efforts has certainly kept us on our toes. But the moment everyone’s been so anxious for is finally here. So, without further ado, I give you…
Sense of Place Winner: “#tropicalparadise” by Enrie M.
I recently spent an early morning walking around the Enid A. Haupt Conservatory, soaking in the tropical colors and exotic flavor in the display houses before the crowds came in for The Orchid Show.
One of my favorite late February, early March features in the Conservatory is the electric blue-green of the blooming jade vine (Strongylodon macrobotrys). The jade vine is indigenous to the Philippines, where its tendrils scramble up tropical rain forest trees in an effort to seek out sunlight. The beak-like flowers dangle from a long raceme that can extend for several feet (the flower inflorescences can reach up to nine feet in the wild). The mint-green color of the flowers is almost eerie, and something that needs to be seen in person to fully experience. These flowers are pollinated by bats in their natural habitat, and produce large, melon-like fruit.
The ship begins moving in the early morning hours and the potentially rough seas never really materialize. I think for most of us it is instead like being rocked in a cradle. When we stop we are halfway up the north side of Seno Grandi. Our collecting site is along a large river that empties into a lake. About half of us go up the east side of the river, and the rest to the west. Although not cold or raining, a steady strong wind makes the Zodiac trip ashore wet and rough. As we approach the shore we can see quite clearly that the landscape is heavily disturbed. There are remnants of abandoned dwellings and piles of crab traps. It appears that beaver have caused significant damage to the landscape as well, and that the large peatland to the west of the river is courtesy of an ancient beaver dam.
We leave Puerto Inútil about 7 a.m. and arrive at Wulaia a half-hour later. This is one of the most famous sites in the region and one I have visited several times. Charles Darwin arrived here on January 23, 1833, 180 years ago–minus one day–today. The site has changed considerably since my last visit. There is now a metal dock for unloading cruise ship passengers, and a large, old slaughterhouse has been transformed into a museum which is open when cruise ships arrive. A plaque celebrating Darwin was put up in 2009 on the occasion of the 200th anniversary of his birth. There is also a plaque commemorating Robert FitzRoy, the captain of the HMS Beagle and a pioneering scientist in his own right.
Friday morning, Tulip Tree Allée. Through the window of a photograph, the bare trees look like giant cephalopods. Manolo’s sculptures take on their own strange life.
At 3:30 a.m. I hear the engine shut down, so I venture out onto the deck to see if we have arrived at our destination after taking the long way around. And in fact, we have arrived at Isla Pictón, the northernmost island of the grouping of Pictón, Lennox, and Nueva islands, and the last of our targeted areas for this year. Each of these islands still houses a naval outpost, left from a time in the 1970s when Chile anticipated Argentina would invade them. To this day, Juan feels pride in the fact that Chile defended these three islands and still holds them. On the downside, Chile also land-mined parts of the islands as part of their defense. This accounts at least in part for all the security and the hassles to get permission to visit them.
