Tuesday, May 15, 2018

HYDRAULIC MINING IN THE YUBA AND BEAR RIVER BASINS

Omega Diggings / South Yuba

"No other mining process is so extravagantly wasteful."
F.W. Robinson.  Report of the State Mineralogist 1882

Ditches, dams, diggings and tailings are commonplace in the Yuba and Bear River watersheds.  On almost any hike or ride it's only a matter of time before you'll encounter features associated with hydraulic mining.  Despite only 30 years as the dominant gold mining method the scars of hydraulicing, both visible and invisible remain part of our legacy.  The footprint of hydraulic mining is massive not only in the geographical, geological and hydrological realms, but also in its innovations in technological and hydraulic engineering and in the creation of an elaborate body of laws pertaining to water and mineral rights in California.

In order to understand why the Yuba and Bear River basins were so well-positioned for hydraulic mining let me attempt a rudimentary explanation of some local geology.  Approximately 60,000 years ago ancient auriferous (gold bearing) streams were flowing in this region.  As the Sierra Nevada formed and rose in height streams began to flow in west and southwesterly directions.  The continuous down-cutting of streams eventually exposed gravel deposits from the ancient streams that are as high as 1,000 feet above today's rivers and creeks.  Gold miners, intent on finding “the source” of Yuba River gold, explored all of the gold-bearing tributaries but found instead “high gravels” or Tertiary gravels, at mid-slope between the major streams and the ridgetops.  An example is the area around Banner Ridge, which was discovered in 1850.

Gravels near Red Dog / Greenhorn Creek / Bear River

The mining of placers is not the same as popular images of underground hard-rock or lode mining.  Placer gold has already been eroded from its matrix and has been redistributed by alluvial processes.  In placer mining, gold, due to its high specific gravity, tends to gravitate to the stream bottom, which is typically bedrock. The same principle applies to ancient streams, therefore the yield per cubic yard of Tertiary gravel would be greater near bedrock.  To get to the bedrock requires removal of the overburden and for that task pressurized water is an ideal method. 

Fortunately for the miners many of the gravel deposits were easily accessible because the lava flows that once covered the ancient rivers had long ago eroded away.  Banner Lava Cap was so-named for the remnant lava flow "capping" the auriferous gravels of Banner Ridge.  The hydraulic method was the ideal way to mine gravel deposits because the yield per cubic yard was so low that a great volume of gravel had to be "washed" in sluices for it to be profitable.  And finally there was generally plenty of water available which was essential for hydraulicking.  Of course a technology to transport water from the high mountain streams had to be developed, which the miners did, and in so-doing became a world recognized center of hydraulic engineering.

LaPorte / Slate Creek / North Yuba, n.d.
photographer unknown

The Northern Mines, in the watershed of the Feather and Sacramento Rivers had the highest concentrations of auriferous gravels – from north to south they were: the Slate Creek region (Plumas and Sierra counties), the San Juan Ridge (Nevada County), and the Quaker Hill, Red Dog, Gold Hill and Dutch Flat regions (Nevada and Placer counties).

DISCOVERY
In 1853 a new technique of mining was discovered on Deer Creek near Nevada City. It was called the hydraulic process and it was, by far the most efficient (and destructive) method of gold mining.  Hydraulic mining is the application of a jet of water under great pressure, focused by a nozzle, to a bank of placer alluvium consisting of compacted gravels. The idea was to let water do the work – water was used for its mechanical force and it was far more efficient than many men digging with shovels.  By using pressurized water miners saturated and cut the banks so that they were reduced to lava-like mud and stones, that slurry was then channeled to the sluicing area where the gold was recovered.  The hydraulic process became enormously popular and it was used wherever possible.

Malakoff Diggings, 1870s
Photo by Carlton Watkins

Phillip May, author of Origins of Hydraulic Mining in California (1970) has extensively researched the topic and concludes that hydraulicking most likely first occurred on Buckeye Hill, east of Nevada City near Greenhorn Creek.  Antoine Chabot, William Matteson and Eli Miller, a tinsmith, were partners on a Buckeye Hill claim in 1852.  May maintains that it was Chabot and Miller who applied a nozzle to the hose thereby improving the aim of the water and increasing its velocity.  Matteson introduced the process to his claim on American Hill in Nevada City in 1853, where it was more likely to be chronicled. Matteson is generally recognized as the discoverer of hydraulic mining but it appears to have been a collaborative invention, if it can even be called an invention.  After all, the hose and nozzle were already in use by local firemen. The innovation was the application of an existing technology (pressurized water) to gravel banks in order to access the compacted auriferous gravel.  Matteson’s Nevada City claim was on American Hill, near Buckeye Hill Ravine, just west of town.  The origin of the hydraulic process wasn’t discussed in the press until 1857 when a story ran in Hutchings California Magazine, four years after its invention.  This was more than ample time for the facts to be amended or distorted in the retelling.

DAMS/WATER CONVEYANCE/DISTRIBUTION
In California precipitation is seasonal, occurring in the winter and mostly stored in the form of snowpack.  Hydraulic mining required water year-round and plenty of it. To provide that water companies consolidated and built bigger reservoirs and higher capacity ditch systems.  In the diggings water was used as a direct power source.  

To the mine owner, once the muddy gravel exited the sluice system the mining process was over.  The problem of accumulated tailings or mine waste on site made it difficult to continue mining so it too was pushed into adjoining creeks or to a drain tunnel.  This nasty torrent of mud and gravel eventually made its way downstream where it caused unprecedented environmental degradation.

As hydraulic mining grew so did the water companies and the scope of their operations.  Water companies built storage dams, both large and small, beginning in the 1850s. Typically small owner-operated mines went into debt by purchasing water. Most of them eventually forfeited their mines to the water companies who ultimately owned both the mines and the infrastructure that provided them with water.  Water was transported in ditches and flumes sometimes over long distances: North Bloomfield Company's main ditch was 55 miles long, the Milton Ditch was 63 miles, the Eureka Lake Company's ditch was 34 miles, Blue Tent Company's was 33 miles long and the South Yuba Canal was 123 miles long. Before long the major companies constructed high-capacity reservoirs to redistribute water to various mining operations.  Their success attracted investors from San Francisco, New York and England.

Tertiary gravels were easily recognized because they had the same rounded gravel, cobbles, boulders and gold as today's live streams.  But the gravels were difficult to access because they were compacted into the soil structure with tons of “overburden” consisting of soil, vegetation, trees, and low-yield upper gravels to remove. 

Kennebec Mine /Birchville/  Middle Yuba
Photo by Lawrence & Houseworth 1860s

PIPING
Water cannons, generically called "monitors", were used to mine gravel banks and the process was called piping.  They had nozzles, available in different sizes, and had sophisticated features resulting from endless experimentation.  Manufacturers gave them manly names like Globe Monitor, Hydraulic Chief, Hoskins Dictator, Little Giant and Hydraulic Giant.

In a well-financed operation two, and sometimes more, monitors were used on a particular bank. One of them was used to saturate the bank while the other undercut the same area.  Another option to bring down the gravels was to construct tunnels at the bottom of a bank and load them with explosives.  

SLUICING
The sluice was essential – this is where the gold was recovered by gravity separation.  A sluice box is essentially a long, slightly inclined, rectangular trough through which a rapid stream of water and auriferous gravel flows.  The bottom is provided with slat, block or rock riffles. Because of the great weight of gold gravity causes the gold to sink and collect in the spaces between the riffles. In hydraulic mining, sluice boxes were fitted together to extend for hundreds of feet and in some cases, like on Greenhorn Creek, a tributary of the Bear River, they were miles long.

Quicksilver, or mercury (Hg), was routinely added to sluices to amalgamate with the finer particles of gold. Miners tried to recover what mercury they could to save on costs but they lost an estimated 10 million pounds to placer mining statewide and 80% to 90% of that was in the Sierra Nevada. Hydraulic mines lost an average. of 10% to 30 % of the mercury that they used.  To this day mercury is systemic in the Yuba and Bear River basins.  It is largely inert and poses no immediate danger but in reservoirs it can bioaccumulate in fish.  Scientists from the United States Geological Survey (USGS) have determined that "... the South Yuba, Deer Creek and Bear River watersheds have elevated concentrations of bioavailable mercury (2000)."

Drain tunnels were unique to the Northern Mines – they were expensive but they served two purposes.  They were designed to transport tailings away so that work could continue unimpeded (in its heyday North Bloomfield operated around the clock) and the tunnel provided another opportunity to sluice the tailings.

Tailings in the Greenhorn Creek Drainage / Bear River

MINE WASTE,TAILINGS, DEBRIS or SLICKENS
After sluicing, the tailings, mostly a slurry of mud and gravel, was dumped into nearby ravines and sent downstream.  Thus ended the involvement and concern of the hydraulic mine owners.

The center of the hydraulic mining industry was the Yuba's three major forks and the upper reaches of the Bear River.  In the 1860s Nevada was the leading mining county in the state with many of its most productive hydraulic mines found on San Juan Ridge, between the Middle and South Forks of the Yuba.  A contemporary Civil Engineer reported, “so great has been the quantity of ground washed away, that many of the ravines are covered with a depth of twenty feet and upwards of tailings from the sluices.”   

In 1862 the Homestead Act was passed and by 1865 patented mine ground was made available. New laws granted water companies legal right-of-way and a formal survey by the Government Land Office was in process.  When the transcontinental railroad was completed in 1869, 10,000 Chinese laborers went looking for work.  Many of these men transferred their construction and blasting skills to hydraulic mining endeavors.

Towns developed near all these operations, and hundreds of miners and businesses became dependent on their wages for survival.  The mining industry was the source of local employment and was usually allowed to proceed with their plans regardless of consequences.  In the mid-1870s the settlements of Moores Flat and Columbia Hill on San Juan Ridge were moved, despite protestations, because they were on mining ground. Moores Flat even had to move the town's cemetery.

The key to success in hydraulic mining was the control and application of huge volumes of water.  Thus, by the 1870s and 1880s, ''ditch" or water companies consolidated to create large corporate entities whose stock traded on the San Francisco exchange.  The largest companies included the Milton Mining Company, the North Bloomfield Mining Company, the Eureka Lake and Yuba Canal Company, the South Yuba Canal Company, and the Bear River and Auburn Water Company.  By the 1880s hydraulic engineers and mine managers like Hamilton Smith, of the North Bloomfield Mining and Gravel Company and Alvinza Hayward of the South Yuba Canal Company were considered the best in the world and were greatly admired.  Unless you lived downstream.

Tailings on the Lower Yuba near Smartsville, 1860s
Photo by Lawrence & Houseworth

DOWNSTREAM
On their way downstream the tailings changed stream geomorphology, caused immense siltation, created large gravel bars, raised water levels, buried mining claims and distributed mercury.  At the same time activities ancillary to gold mining like lumbering, ranching and market hunting amplified the environmental havoc.

Once downstream, in the flatlands, accumulations of mud and gravel from the upstream mines spread out covering valuable agricultural lands, hampering river navigation and causing flooding.  The gold mining culture of the foothills had little compassion for the valley people. The farmers were advised to adapt to an unfortunate consequence of doing necessary business.  There was an arrogance about people of the gold regions.  Wasn't it mining, not agriculture, that created California – after all, the state motto is "Eureka?"

Meanwhile the transcontinental railroad was completed in 1869 thereby opening a national market for California agricultural products and generating far more capital than gold mining.  By the late 1870s the controversy was raging.  Some farmers were ambivalent because they too profited from the prosperity that gold mining brought.  But the situation only worsened and could no longer be overlooked.

DOWNSTREAM TROUBLES
As the upstream hydraulic mines were prospering farmers in the Sacramento Valley were continually dealing with high water and extreme siltation.  Effects of the mining debris on Sacramento Valley farming was noticeable about 1860.  In that year Bavarian Eduard Vischer was visiting the mines and was impressed by the hydraulic mining process but in Marysville he saw the downside of mining.  He described the tailings in the Yuba and Feather Rivers as "... a reddish, thick, opaque mush.  Whosoever observes these mountain region waste waters heavily laden with mud will no longer be surprised at being able to recognize the Sacramento River by the color of its water far into the Bay."

The big flood of 1862 inundated farms and flooded municipalities in the valley and left a sediment on the lower Bear River about two feet thick which caused great alarm.  This was one in a series of episodes caused by the voluminous discharge of tailings from the hydraulic mines in the mountains.  Then Marysville was flooded in 1875 causing an uproar.

G .F. Keller 1881

Charles Nordhoff published California for Health, Pleasure, and Residence for Travelers and Settlers in 1873.  It was an extremely popular guidebook that persuaded many to settle in California.  He had this to say about the Yuba River near Smartsville,"This was once, I am told by old residents, a swift and clear mountain torrent; it is now a turbid and not rapid stream, whose bed has been raised by the washings of the miners not less than fifty feet above its level in 1849.  It once contained trout, but now I imagine a catfish would die in it.”

In 1876, James Keyes, representing the farmers of the Bear River Valley, filed for a perpetual injunction against the Little York Gold and Water Company and 18 other hydraulic mining companies on the upper Bear River.  Among them were the mines of Quaker Hill, Buckeye Hill and Hunts Hill.  A. A. Sargent of the Sargent & Jacobs mines on Quaker Hill and Hunts Hill scoffed and said that “stopping hydraulic mining would throw half of the people in the mountains out of work and bankrupt all government in the area.” 

If you want to see an accumulation of tailings on the Yuba River once it reaches the valley floor I suggest driving State Highway 20 to the Yuba River crossing at Parks Bar.  Immediately downstream are tailings consisting of fine sand and gravel estimated at one to three miles wide covering an area of about 25 square miles.  Now imagine this gravel in motion, much more muddy and replenished annually.

SAWYER DECISION 1884
In the late 1870s the annual value of the dry farmed wheat crop alone had reached $40,000,000, more than double that of the dwindling gold output.  According to geographer David Larsen, "The trend was clear and irreversible the pivot of prosperity had shifted permanently toward the fields."


FIRST ENVIRONMENTAL LAW?
Obviously, by outlawing the dumping of tailings there was improved water quality and fish habitat and there would be less toxins inadvertently released but this particular environmental remediation was incidental to the intent of the law.  Except in a very general way there were no environmental considerations addressed in the 24 volumes of testimony that were collected for Woodruff vs. North Bloomfield Mining and Gravel Company. This law was not created out of respect for Gaia, or any consideration whatsoever for stream ecology.  Simply put, the issue was business interests in the Sacramento Valley (agriculture) were losing income to the wasteful procedures of a powerful upslope industry (hydraulic mining).  Specifically agricultural lands were being covered with choking mud, towns were periodically flooded and steamboat operations were hampered by the decreased navigability of the rivers.  I can't see how the Sawyer Decision exhibits environmental activism but it does represent the beginning of regulations in the public interest.  The Sawyer Decision effectively limits the ideology of laissez-faire, which legitimized the single-minded pursuit of wealth at all costs.  This alone is a very big step in the direction of conservation and sustainability.

CAMINETTI ACT 1893
The Sawyer Decision did not ban hydraulic mining, it banned the dumping of mine waste into the watercourses.  The Caminetti Act sought to resume hydraulic mining by creating upstream debris dams to impound mine waste or tailings.  It was attempted, but somewhat half-heartedly, because the early dams were brush and cribbing dams that were lucky to last a season.  Among other places, there were dams built on Scotchman's Creek, Willow Creek and Horse Valley Creek followed by more substantial concrete dams at Daguerre Point (1906), Bullards Bar (1924) and Englebright (1941).

Debris Dam at Malakoff Diggings / Humbug Creek / South Yuba, n.d.
Photographer unknown

The Caminetti Act also created a Debris Commission consisting of  three officers from the Army Corps of Engineers.  They set up a permitting process and fee schedule that further discouraged the resumption of hydraulic mining.  In 1909, 33 applications for permits were received and 16 were granted.

LEGACY
We have a legacy of diggings, or mining excavations– monuments, really – to our industrial past.  Because of hydraulic mining we've also inherited a watershed-wide dispersal of mercury (below 6,000') with well-documented toxic effects.  It pains me to remind you not to eat the fish from reservoirs.

An elaborate system of dams and ditches is part our legacy. Some of them have been adapted, and new one's built, for hydroelectricity and irrigation.  It seems to me that that more of them can be used as trails and be incorporated into the watershed's transportation, recreation, and public health (fitness) system.

I continually marvel at the amount of devastation and degradation caused by hydraulic mining.  The basic ingredient was human ingenuity powered by the simple principle of gravity and aided by picks and shovels to dam and manipulate water.  The addition of quicksilver to sluices enhanced the mining process but contaminated the ecosystem.  It seemed like progress at the time and the whole community supported it, but there were unseen consequences.

Siltation at the Mouth of the South Yuba at Point Defiance

Tuesday, May 8, 2018

A Gift


So I get an email from a friend who has a friend who found an unusual projectile point on the berm of the Newtown Ditch.  It came with a blurry photo but it looked intriguing, it looked like the mid-section of a point with, what looked like incised designs.  Naturally I needed to see it.  The person who had this mysterious item was leaving town so we met the next day at the place where it was found.

Before looking at it I attempted to find some background and/or perspective to better understand it. I should mention that I located, recorded and evaluated archaeological sites on mostly public land for over 20 years. This kind of artifact sounded unique – I've never even heard of such a thing in our locale – that doesn’t mean they never existed.  After all, it's the unusual or rare artifacts that are more likely to be collected.  I have seen projectile points and basketry that were made by masters combining elegant technique and visionary symbolism, so I was looking forward to this.  The artifact arrived protected in a plastic container cushioned with a paper napkin.

Here's what I saw.  At first glance it appeared to be a small thin projectile point with the tip and base missing.  The base is important because the notching pattern or method of affixing the point to the shaft is often diagnostic and provides a time frame. The artifact was bifacial with one side convex and smooth while the other side was almost flat with very thin striations  At the margins were additional designs that simulated cross point stitches, or "Xs".  I was curious about how such an intricate design could be etched on such a thin object. The material was dark gray but not basalt – I planned to show it to an archaeologist friend who is knowledgeable about geology.  It seemed too fragile to be useful for hunting and the intricate design suggested that it may be "ceremonial" or possibly associated with "hunting magic."

We walked along the ditch berm to the place where the object was found.  Realizing that the berm was created from the surrounding soils and would lack integrity of location we gave the area a close look anyway.  Just below the ditch was a meadow on slightly sloping ground and I personally knew of two bedrock mortar locations less than 1/4 mile from here.

I called my archaeologist friend who happened to be in his office and told him that I'd be stopping by soon.  Outside his office, before I left my truck, I took another, more critical look, and dared to gently bend it (?), knowing full-well that it could snap if I was too enthusiastic. Eureka!  It bent – because it was rubber!  Hilarious – we had evidence of mountain biking!  Now I felt compelled to move the trickster's gift along.  There were two archaeologists in the office when I showed up with the find.  They were going for it too because in both my case and theirs it was presented as an artifact and we neglected to start at the beginning with "Is this an artifact."  After some serious discussion, they both caught on at the same time and we had a deep laugh.  We were also reminded how an innocent assumption can effect a line of reasoning and the value of healthy skepticism.  Everyone associated with this event had a good laugh at themselves and hopefully had a small insight.  We're all just a little happier and smarter too – what a gift.

An obsidian projectile point
Rattlesnake Creek / North Yuba


Monday, May 7, 2018

Landscape Photography in the Far West

Grouse Ridge Near Blue Lake / South Yuba


Land and landscapes shared by settlers and indigenes are divergently imagined. Whereas settlers see an empty wilderness, Aboriginal people see a busy spiritual landscape, peopled by ancestors and the evidence of their creative feats (Marcia Langton).

We will not - we cannot - see the same landscape… any landscape is composed not only of what lies before our eyes but what lies in our heads (D. W. Meinig).


Americans and Europeans stamp themselves upon the landscape; it becomes their territory, the product of their work and their journeying.  What better way to bag a landscape than to photograph it – especially now that you can use your phone – which you’re never without.

Photography’s humble origins began in France in the 1830s.  Early cameras were expensive and knowledge of particular techniques and chemistry was beyond the ken of the average person.  By the time of the California gold rush the Daguerreotype process had been developed making it possible to buy prints of western landscapes and, of course, portraits to be sent back home.  Photographers sometimes even built wagons that doubled as darkrooms so that they could work in remote regions.

Lawrence & Houseworth of San Francisco were a stock agency selling “Scenes of Wonder and Curiosity” to a predominantly East Coast audience who were curious about the West.  They were in business from 1852 to 1892.  In the 1860s they were working in the Yuba watershed photographing hydraulic mines, dams, water conveyance systems, towns, agriculture, etc.  Their albums featured many scenes of people working in the very landscape that they were transforming.  Many of these landscapes, such as hydraulic mining pits, ditches, orchards, railroad grades and tunnels, to name but a few, are still highly visible.  These landforms are also artifacts that represent human activity, or more precisely they are cultural landscapes.

Lawrence & Houseworth Photograph, circa 1866

Alfred A. Hart was the official photographer for the Central Pacific Railroad from 1862 to 1869, when it was completed.  On the South Yuba he photographed, among other places, Cisco, Summit Valley, Meadow Lake and Fordyce Creek (then known as the North Branch of the South Fork).  In addition to landscapes he photographed the construction activities and the, mostly Chinese, workers.  He also included several petroglyph sites near the South Yuba.  His is flat-out documentary photography. 

English Dam / Middle Yuba
Stereo Photographs by Carlton Watkins, circa 1871

On the other hand, Carlton Watkins, in the 1860s, made a hundred stereo views and thirty operatic photos on 22 by 18 inch plates of the Yosemite Valley.  There are no people to be found in these landscapes, despite the fact that the indigenous Miwok people used the area for hundreds of years.  His goal was to go with the grandeur and create an Eden-like wilderness.  In 1871 the North Bloomfield Mining and Gravel Company hired Watkins to document their holdings and activities on the South Yuba and its tributaries. He was back in 1879 when he made photographs from Mt. Lola, the highest peak in the Yuba watershed at 9,142’.


Camptonville 1875 / Middle Yuba
(photographer unknown)

George Eastman invented the first portable roll film camera in 1888.  For the next several decades professional labs processed the film and delivered prints.  Film was slow, requiring outdoor exposures, but the portability of folding cameras and ease of processing lightened-up the general approach to photography.  Subjects now included events (no matter how humble), groups of people, animals, frivolous activities and of course, landscapes.

National Geographic magazine debuted in 1890 and devoted their pages to the photographic study of the world.  They published their first color photograph in 1919.  In 1924 the 35mm Leica was introduced.  This was a sturdy miniature camera with quality optics that advanced the scope and quality of documentary photography.


Highway 49 Bridge Over the South Yuba

During the Depression President Roosevelt launched his New Deal Program and part of that package included the Farm Security Administration (FSA).  Photographers were hired to photograph what was happening in America.  Among them were Dorothea Lange, Walker Evans, John Collier, Jr. and Gordon Parks.  There was no TV and, at the time, nothing told the story better than photographs. Landscapes were photographed with traces of contemporary life including buildings, cars and even advertising.  The dominant themes of the FSA were about social justice.  I consider myself fortunate to have had John Collier as a teacher while attending San Francisco State University.

Realism was both the gift and curse of photography – a millstone of veracity.  The camera was so good at rendering the “real world” it was difficult to transcend it.  The style known as "Pictorialism" had been lingering around in camera clubs and in photography magazines since the end of the 19th century but it had become mired in sentimentality becoming the Hallmark Card of its time.  After World War II there were photographers who saw themselves as artists among them were Ansel Adams, Edward Weston and Imogene Cunningham.


Ansel Adams at Work
(Photographer unknown)

Ansel Adams has the greatest legacy of the group.  He elevated the techniques of exposure, film developing and printing to extremely high levels.  His work is often compared to the finest quality classical music.  From the start of his career in the 1930s until his death in 1984, Adams made thousands of photographs of western landscapes.  I'm sure that you have seen an Ansel Adams print, somewhere – these are the iconic black and white photographs of the Sierra Nevada, especially the Yosemite area.  Adams became a photographic master, with many devotees, in a genre that he created.  His serious landscapes (and they are very serious) do not show people or their activities.  To me they are a little churchy – a place to visit, not to live in. While most of Adams’ prints are stunningly beautiful they reinforce the notion that wilderness (a very recent concept itself) and urbanized worlds are separate.  They re-enforce the idea that nature is a wilderness to visit and not an environment to inhabit, despite archaeological evidence that proves that was not always the case. 

In the 1970s photographers like Robert Adams and Lewis Baltz, under the banner of "New Topographics", depicted the encroachment of man-made civilization into the landscape of the American west.  Adams assembled a group of photographers who were “born and raised in suburban sprawl. To this crop of young photographers, wilderness is a foreign concept.  Our environment has been significantly altered.  We live with nature at arm’s length.”

Grass Valley / Bear River

The exhibition's subtitle was "Photographs of a Man-Altered Landscape", which gave some clue as to the deeper unifying theme.  Photographers such as Frank GohlkeRobert AdamsStephen Shore, Lewis Baltz,and Nicholas Nixon shared an interest in the created landscapes of 70s urban America.  Their stark, beautifully printed images of this mundane but oddly fascinating topography was both a reflection of the increasingly suburbanized world around them, and a reaction to the tyranny of idealized landscape photography that elevated the natural world and elemental subjects.  In a way, they were reacting to the tradition of nature photography that the likes of Ansel Adams and Edward Weston had created.

The first digital camera was introduced by Canon in 1984. Photography is less precious now – everyone’s a photographer.  I recently attended a birthday party where friends from all over the country showed up for the event. When they entered the room almost every one of them whipped out their phones and made photographs, which were instantly transmitted elsewhere.


A Sacred Landscape /Lower Yuba
In the foreground are tailings that have been mined for gold at least twice. Is gold sacred?
In the background is Histum Yani (aka: Sutter Buttes) sacred to the indigenous Nisenan, Konkow and Wintun.


Meanwhile landscapes are being replaced with billboards and uninspired concrete boxes adorned with all too familiar logos and commercial messages.  Bird watching is considered an esoteric practice to most, yet spending citizens, especially children, can easily identify 50 or more corporate brands at a glance.  We’re briskly creating a mercantile habitat.  Amazingly, most people are at home in it – an environment teeming with efficient predators and docile prey.  Commercialism is already creeping into public lands – will we eventually have sponsored landscapes?  Will the challenge for emerging photographers be finding landscapes without advertising? I have no doubt that we'll transcend this shabby aesthetic.