In the latest installment of our ongoing Artist Insights series, photographer Jessica Fridrich discusses her image making process.
The American Southwest is as inspirational as it is incomprehensible. While silent, the desert and the sandstone tell visual stories of their own, leaving scientists and artists to interpret them and give them meaning. When comet Neowise sprawled its tail wide during the monsoon season last year, I set out for a trip. In my mind, this was a win-win situation: dark cloudless desert will provide captivating foreground for the space visitor, and, if I am handed a monsoonal wave, I will bring back pictures with emotions albeit possibly without the space visitor. Or both.
I have a soft spot in my heart for one particular region in the Southwest on the border between Utah and Arizona called Paria Wilderness. Located on an elevated plateau, it harbors landscape of unimaginable beauty, carved by torrential rains and chiseled by abrasive winds. The sparse network of sandy Jeep trails leads to remote places known as Coyote Buttes and White Pocket. I could hike there with my eyes closed. They are my “exterior studio” where nature built the subjects and the elements provide the light.
First time visitors are often left speechless as they stroll through thick layers of colorful twisted sandstone. Finding unique compositions that work with light that is sometimes unpredictable and lasting only for seconds can be very challenging. The key to success is to read the weather well and give oneself a chance by clever positioning. This is when having the three-dimensional scenery etched in my memory helps me make the best use of the available light.
One particular formation, which is quite prominent at the White Pocket, and one that is often photographed is what I call The Cathedral. The way it is oriented, however, makes it difficult to photograph with the special soft last light right when the sun hits the horizon because of harsh shadows cast on it by surrounding rocks. Two years ago, I discovered a new composition that, at the first sight, illogically sacrifices the beauty of the front view that shows three distinct spires of The Cathedral but gains in every other respect. In particular, one can use beautiful and powerful leading lines carved in the sandstone to help draw the eyes up and towards the Cathedral’s main spire and then to the horizon. Moreover, the tangential light right before the sun sets becomes all available as the parts drowning in dark shadows are no longer in view. To realize this perspective, I had to buy a new super wide angle lens that allowed me to move forward to “scoop up” the foreground. I have since visited the White Pocket probably more than two dozen times, patiently waiting for the right light. And it came last summer.
The rain has just stopped, leaving the air filled with moisture released by a powerful storm. Dark ominous clouds still covered most of the sky with strong winds lashing the ground. A thin crack in the clouds wide enough for a portion of the sun to penetrate the atmosphere opened up on the western horizon. I only had a few seconds to take the shot. Fortunately, I was ready for this moment I had waited for years. “Click, click, click” fired my camera several bracketing exposures. With my hands still shaking a bit from the grand spectacle that just played out in front of my eyes, I checked the focus and the exposures. I knew I had a keeper that captured not only the formation as I intended but most of all the mood.
This July 2020 trip was memorable for many reasons for me. While the summer season was very dry in the southwest, I happened to be there during one of the two monsoonal waves that brought dramatic light almost every night. Needless to say, I did not get much of clear desert sky to shoot the comet but I will always take great monsoons! In the end, on the last day I did manage to capture Neowise in a unique environment -- the famous formation called the Wave. Using a crescent Moon for light source aided with light painting allowed me to portray the Wave with the comet hanging low, basking in air glow. The original plan was not a failure after all.