Photo courtesy Google.

My friend, Jo Guldi passed this link on to me, so I figured I’d pass it on to you. When I first posted it, I planned on just copying and pasting the image, adding a few lines of text, and clicking Save. Once I got to writing this entry, however, one question led to another; one realization went deeper; and before I knew it, I had an entire thesis in Internet-lingo hammered away in a disjointed nature and pasted with various aerial images. It exists below, but really, the purpose of this entry was to show you the above image from Google Maps, maybe get a bit of a chuckle out of you, and move on. Little did I know that thinking too much thwarted those plans.

It’s been a few years since we’ve seen a book by Yann Arthus-Bertrand, the famed photographer who really gave verve to the genre of aerial photography. It’s a beautiful thing to skim through Bertrand’s Earth from Above. Bertrand gave vision to an art that had existed for years, but hadn’t truly reached its full potential.

One need only look at the image of San Francisco by kite to see that the hobby has existed for well over a hundred years and dates back to the early days of photography. If anyone has a Daguerreotype by kite, I’d love to see it! For now, you’ll just have to deal with the beautiful panorama of the city by the Bay, which required 10 kites and hauled a 49-lb camera 2,000 feet above the post-apocalyptic scene of San Francisco in 1906.

Photo by George R. Lawrence

Getting back to why I’m so fond of aerial photography (but have yet to hit up friend Scott Haefner as to how I can best get started with this gig) — the reason I personally love looking at aerial photography is that it represents a distillation of the very essence of the landscape; the interactions of built with natural; and the effect that humans have on the landscape. All of these things go back to why I chose Geography as a field of study, and why it continues to fascinate me to this day.

Photo by Yann Arthus-Bertrand
So why the sudden move to history? I think that Geography and History are two of the most inextricable studies that exist. And at the same time, it’s my own personal protestation to refuse to accept a specialty. I’ve heard the quote in two different versions, but the message is the same: Specialization is for ants. Those of us who either observe the landscape deeply, or photograph it — or even see it from above — realize that we don’t want to be ants. We want to look at what the ants have built. We want to analyze the ants’ interaction with the landscape. And it all leads to deeper questions…

Why do we do the things we do — as human beings? Why do we live in closely packed subdivisions on the edge of humanity to separate ourselves from the rest of humanity; then regularly face the traffic, the pollution, the frustrations with humanity every day to commute to work? What do we get from migrating away from our own species? And why can’t we just float above it all and look down at the beauty that exists every day in front of us – to stand in awe and appreciation of our creations, however small they may look from above.

This may sound a bit sacrilegious, and I’m sure God is going to smite me to hell for saying it, but we humans are our own gods. We create our own versions of the world, our own little ant hills. Each day is an opportunity to create something beautiful, and seeing these things from the sky both humbles AND plays at humanity’s ego-strings.

So the reality is that, I, Jon Haeber don’t have the requisite ability required of most artists; namely, the ability to draw. Don’t get me wrong, I can draw a stick figure with the best of ’em, and I’m sure, in another life, I could have been Scott Adams.

But to re-create, with my hands, the intricacy of a Michelangelo or the geometric intent of a DaVinci is completely beyond the realm of possibility for this lowly photographer. It is a large reason why I decided on the artistic outlet of photography, which a simple workaround for my gross ineptitude in the realm of drawing.

So, as an amateur artist, a thought hit my mind today, and I just had to put it down on paper (‘they’ really need to update that phrase, being as there’s not single sheet of paper to be seen.) Anyways, to avoid any further tangents, let me just relate to you my theory on art.

Long ago, mankind lacked the requirement for multi-tasking that is now a necessity, and the preponderance of messaging that is a reality. Art was something that needed to hit the senses. It needed to captivate. And it needed to not only re-create reality, but to enlarge its assets. Humankind suffered from a supreme dearth of human-created beauty. The works of the hand were not nearly as ubiquitous as they are today. For this reason, we began with movements like Classicism, with its large, shocking monuments and its calculated shapes and patterns.

Later, during the industrial age, we altered our perception of beauty to reflect our yearning for nature. True, much of this was due to artists like Thomas Cole, and theories coming from the transcendentalists. But, we must also consider the realities of living. Urbanism, crowding, dirty tenements, and the rise industry all contributed to this.

By the 1920s, we had cleaned up our cities, but we were being slammed with a barrage of messages, images, and theories. Our life was so full of the visual, the human-built, and the human-conceived — that we wanted things simpler, more elegant in their simplicity, and easy on the eyes. Thus the introduction of Art Deco in the mainstream, and later Art Moderne and the Modernist movement. Despite my love of Art Deco (it is perhaps my most favored artistic and architectural movement), I believe it to be — more than an original movement — a reaction to a world that moved too much.
By the mid-to-late 50s, we had the Pop artists – Roy Lichtenstein and Andy Warhol among the most famous.

What I mean to say, in this long drawn-out rant, was the reality of culture and how it affects our art. I’ll be bold enough to say that Pop Art represented one last shout at the world from artists. It was a satirical jab at society — an effort by artists to make us realize how slammed we are with images, messages, movies, media, theater, theories, and stories these days that we treat art as disposable – our culture requires it.

And in the midst of such a culture, Life Magazine could not exist (or at least in its once glamorous form), nor can a magazine like National Geographic focus on the beauty that it once did.

These days, we click on a link, consume, enjoy, and discard. Wash, rinse, repeat. It’s a process that society demands of our intellect, but it’s also a process we may not realize destroys the beauty of staring for hours at a Thomas Cole painting as if it’s a Where’s Waldo spread, or replaying the same bar from a Shostakovich score over and over again, imagining the destruction of Stalingrad with each jarring note.

I don’t mean to say that we’ve become desensitized, but I do believe that great art and A.D.D. don’t mix.

Our last view of the SS Independence — taken from the Golden Gate Bridge, being towed like a broken soul, on its way to be broken down on the beaches of Alang, India.

As an aside: I contacted three different news organizations a full week before the ship was to be leaving. Not a single one covered the story. The San Francisco Chronicle eventually covered the story today. Others interested in the SS Indy across the country contacted news organizations, but as of today only the Chronicle has written a brief summary of its departure.

With its socially/environmentally destructive “recycling”, historical drama, and suspicious-to-say-the-least corporate background, it could have easily been a Pulitzer-prize-winning feature. Unfortunately, our nation’s news media seems to be too beholden to killer bee and terrorist alert stories these days. Either that, or they have a vested interest in the public’s perception of Norwegian Cruise Lines. Readers: You decide.