"Certain places seem to exist mainly because someone has written about them."
Joan Didion, "In the Islands", The White Album (1979)
10 January 2011
08 July 2010
Landscape on Mars: Opportunity's Journey to Endeavour Crater
I often imagine what it was like to trek across western North America the early 1800s. Not knowing what to expect up ahead (other than from the unreliable reports & stories heard back home or along the way); walking over a rise, or boating around a bend in the river, not knowing what was ahead; a sense of anticipation as one sees, for the first time, something not seen before—a mountain, a river, a meadow or valley or lake.
However, the geography—both natural & human—of North America has been thoroughly documented. And while I can’t relive the exploration of the West I can still feel that geographic anticipation as I follow the progress of the Opportunity rover on Mars as it treks toward Endeavour Crater. We know what the Martian landscape looks like from overhead because we have photos of it from orbiting probes. But from the ground we are seeing the Martian landscape for the first time.
The first photographs I saw of the crater were hazy, narrow angle, quasi-telephoto views of the crater rim taken in March 2009. Their fuzzy quality gives the impression of looking through a thick atmosphere at something barely visible, far off on the horizon.
Later I saw a wide angle color image of the entire crater rim taken in April 2010—a little more than a year later. Between the rover & the crater is a lot of sandy, textured foreground which conveys the immensity & the difficulty of the journey yet to go.
A later image, released in June 2010, is back to black & white but displays a tremendous amount of detail. The different shades of gray in the image convey distinctions between foreground plain (darkest shade), middle-ground crater rim (medium shade), and distant highlands from a further crater (lightest shade). Even the lighter & darker shades of slopes facing toward & away from the sun are visible.
My journey across the Martian landscape—mediated, of course, by the Opportunity imager as well as the scientists & technicians who are driving Opportunity—allows me to recognize certain themes in my experience of landscapes. That is to say, these are some of my human responses that convert the mere surface of Mars into a landscape.
First, each new set of images is a visual improvement over the last set. That makes sense, of course, since the rover is getting closer to its destination. Furthermore, the increasing clarity & sophistication of each new image gives the impression that the goal is even more attainable than the last time it was imaged. Seeing more clarity, seeing more precision, makes the destination more real and, hence, more achievable.
Second, the increasing clarity, sophistication & detail of each new image set heightens my anticipation of arriving at the destination. There’s an irony here: the more that it revealed about the destination the more I want to know what will be found at the destination. If revelation were limited in quantity, then revealing more would mean there was less to reveal (& hence less anticipation). Instead, the opposite happens. Perhaps the “amount” of revelation possible is directly proportional to the amount that has been revealed; the more that is revealed, the more that can be revealed.
Third, the journey toward Endeavour Crater is cast in narrative terms. Those in charge of the rover have said that the chances of Opportunity actually making it to Endeavour are “a long shot.” Hence, the closer the rover gets, the more anticipation is created around the question of whether the rover will make it. The dramatic tension will continue to rise until that last moment when the rover arrives at the edge of the crater & peers down into its interior. Likewise, it reaffirms again the close affiliation journeys have with narratives.
Fourth, I predict that a change in the perception of landscape will occur when the rover is so close to the crater’s rim that the imager can’t take in an entire hill or surface feature in one frame. At that moment the view will change from one of distant landscapes to a view of nearby landforms.
Here's a blog that is helping us trace Opportunity’s journey to Endeavour Crater (with commentary & more images): The Road to Endeavour.
However, the geography—both natural & human—of North America has been thoroughly documented. And while I can’t relive the exploration of the West I can still feel that geographic anticipation as I follow the progress of the Opportunity rover on Mars as it treks toward Endeavour Crater. We know what the Martian landscape looks like from overhead because we have photos of it from orbiting probes. But from the ground we are seeing the Martian landscape for the first time.
The first photographs I saw of the crater were hazy, narrow angle, quasi-telephoto views of the crater rim taken in March 2009. Their fuzzy quality gives the impression of looking through a thick atmosphere at something barely visible, far off on the horizon.
Later I saw a wide angle color image of the entire crater rim taken in April 2010—a little more than a year later. Between the rover & the crater is a lot of sandy, textured foreground which conveys the immensity & the difficulty of the journey yet to go.
A later image, released in June 2010, is back to black & white but displays a tremendous amount of detail. The different shades of gray in the image convey distinctions between foreground plain (darkest shade), middle-ground crater rim (medium shade), and distant highlands from a further crater (lightest shade). Even the lighter & darker shades of slopes facing toward & away from the sun are visible.
My journey across the Martian landscape—mediated, of course, by the Opportunity imager as well as the scientists & technicians who are driving Opportunity—allows me to recognize certain themes in my experience of landscapes. That is to say, these are some of my human responses that convert the mere surface of Mars into a landscape.
First, each new set of images is a visual improvement over the last set. That makes sense, of course, since the rover is getting closer to its destination. Furthermore, the increasing clarity & sophistication of each new image gives the impression that the goal is even more attainable than the last time it was imaged. Seeing more clarity, seeing more precision, makes the destination more real and, hence, more achievable.
Second, the increasing clarity, sophistication & detail of each new image set heightens my anticipation of arriving at the destination. There’s an irony here: the more that it revealed about the destination the more I want to know what will be found at the destination. If revelation were limited in quantity, then revealing more would mean there was less to reveal (& hence less anticipation). Instead, the opposite happens. Perhaps the “amount” of revelation possible is directly proportional to the amount that has been revealed; the more that is revealed, the more that can be revealed.
Third, the journey toward Endeavour Crater is cast in narrative terms. Those in charge of the rover have said that the chances of Opportunity actually making it to Endeavour are “a long shot.” Hence, the closer the rover gets, the more anticipation is created around the question of whether the rover will make it. The dramatic tension will continue to rise until that last moment when the rover arrives at the edge of the crater & peers down into its interior. Likewise, it reaffirms again the close affiliation journeys have with narratives.
Fourth, I predict that a change in the perception of landscape will occur when the rover is so close to the crater’s rim that the imager can’t take in an entire hill or surface feature in one frame. At that moment the view will change from one of distant landscapes to a view of nearby landforms.
Here's a blog that is helping us trace Opportunity’s journey to Endeavour Crater (with commentary & more images): The Road to Endeavour.
27 May 2010
The Colorado River as Metaphor for Time
Anna Strachan, in her blog for PBS's television program NOVA (inside NOVA), reports that a program host & film crew were filming at an overlook of the Colorado River in Canyonlands National Park in Utah.
The gist of the program, apparently, is that our sense of time as "flowing" is not current with physists & that they are developing new ideas about time. But the use of this geography to introduce the idea of time-as-flowing (obviously the status quo serves as the intellectual starting point for this program) highlights how the Colorado River is used as a trope for time & history.
I suspect the Colorado River is used to symbolize time & history more often than other rivers are (those other rivers may be used to connote other concepts though). The Colorado River is especially suited to symbolizing time because of the way it has eroded down through geologic strata on its path across the Colorado Plateau; geologic strata themselves are both symbolic evocations & literal manifestations of time.
The gist of the program, apparently, is that our sense of time as "flowing" is not current with physists & that they are developing new ideas about time. But the use of this geography to introduce the idea of time-as-flowing (obviously the status quo serves as the intellectual starting point for this program) highlights how the Colorado River is used as a trope for time & history.
I suspect the Colorado River is used to symbolize time & history more often than other rivers are (those other rivers may be used to connote other concepts though). The Colorado River is especially suited to symbolizing time because of the way it has eroded down through geologic strata on its path across the Colorado Plateau; geologic strata themselves are both symbolic evocations & literal manifestations of time.
26 June 2009
Australia Image Expresses Contrast
Fresno, Calif.--This is an image that is used on many of the “about Australia” links at the Australian government Department of Foreign Affairs & Trade web site. Most of the links you click on at this page will demonstrate the use of this image. It appears to be a section of a satellite photograph of a portion of Australia’s coast.
The image uses geography to convey define Australia and, conversely, conveys Australia as a geographically-defined country. One of the main themes of the image is contrast.
The image juxtaposes what appears to be desert landscape (on the right side of the image) with tropical seas (on the left side of the image). The contrast of right side to left side embodies other contrasts as well: dry is contrasted with wet, desert with ocean, muted & dusty beiges with vibrant blues & greens.
The image of a landscape expresses naturalness, a kind of romantic simplicity & down-to-earthness that is associated with nature & the environment. On the contrary, the juxtaposition of unusual colors, along with the various shapes of the islands, coastlines, clouds, etc., conveys abstraction & modernity. The image is both abstract art & concrete nature; it is both sophisticated imagery & simple reality. It is both modern expression & romantic history.
By extension, Australia embodies all of these contrasts as well.
The image uses geography to convey define Australia and, conversely, conveys Australia as a geographically-defined country. One of the main themes of the image is contrast.
The image juxtaposes what appears to be desert landscape (on the right side of the image) with tropical seas (on the left side of the image). The contrast of right side to left side embodies other contrasts as well: dry is contrasted with wet, desert with ocean, muted & dusty beiges with vibrant blues & greens.
The image of a landscape expresses naturalness, a kind of romantic simplicity & down-to-earthness that is associated with nature & the environment. On the contrary, the juxtaposition of unusual colors, along with the various shapes of the islands, coastlines, clouds, etc., conveys abstraction & modernity. The image is both abstract art & concrete nature; it is both sophisticated imagery & simple reality. It is both modern expression & romantic history.
By extension, Australia embodies all of these contrasts as well.
25 June 2009
Field Guide to the Hyperreal Colorado Plateau: Grand Canyon Experience in Las Vegas, Nevada
Fresno, Calif.--Field guide entry: Grand Canyon Experience is a tourist gift shop located on the Las Vegas Strip (at 3791 Las Vegas Blvd. S.).
This retail outlet’s name suggests that the emblems of the Colorado Plateau on display here would focus on the Grand Canyon though there are a multitude of icons, images & design elements that represent the entire American Southwest. The store is roughly divided into three sections with each section running from the front of the store (facing Las Vegas Blvd.) to the back of the store.
The middle section is a “canyon” (with fake rock walls & a trompe l’oeil ceiling painted like a clouded sky) that extends from the floor of the first level to the ceiling of the second level.
Like most hyperreal environments, this simulated canyon is “better” & easier & safer than the real canyons of the Colorado Plateau. Unlike the real Grand Canyon, which requires a long & arduous descent to the bottom, & an even more demanding assent to get back out, the hyperreal Grand Canyon on the Strip has an escalator to quickly whisk “explorers” upstairs.
On the escalator ride up visitors can easily spot Indian relics on a ledge partway up to the second floor.
The ladder can represent Indian pueblos in New Mexico (i.e., the ladders posted outside pueblos to allow inhabitants to move up & down between floors). The ladder might also represent Ancestral Pueblans (formerly the Anasazi) who may have used ladders used to move into & out of kivas. The clay pot further represents historical Indians.
Elsewhere, at the bottom of the down escalator (from the second floor to the first floor) is a small vestibule with artificial rock lining its two walls.
The rocks are set in layers with different sized stones & (slightly) different colors in each layer. The different layers may represent the many strata of sedimentary rock that often defines the Colorado Plateau as a geological wonderland (in a way similar to the “geologic fireplace” Mary Colter designed for the Bright Angel Lodge).
Other symbols of the Colorado Plateau & the desert Southwest one finds at the store include:
More information about the design of the exterior signage can be found at the Neon Survey website.
(All of this description is just the design & theming of the store; none of it even touches on the symbolism of the merchandise that is sold there--which would require a blog entry 10 times as long as this one.)
This retail outlet’s name suggests that the emblems of the Colorado Plateau on display here would focus on the Grand Canyon though there are a multitude of icons, images & design elements that represent the entire American Southwest. The store is roughly divided into three sections with each section running from the front of the store (facing Las Vegas Blvd.) to the back of the store.
The middle section is a “canyon” (with fake rock walls & a trompe l’oeil ceiling painted like a clouded sky) that extends from the floor of the first level to the ceiling of the second level.
Like most hyperreal environments, this simulated canyon is “better” & easier & safer than the real canyons of the Colorado Plateau. Unlike the real Grand Canyon, which requires a long & arduous descent to the bottom, & an even more demanding assent to get back out, the hyperreal Grand Canyon on the Strip has an escalator to quickly whisk “explorers” upstairs.
On the escalator ride up visitors can easily spot Indian relics on a ledge partway up to the second floor.
The ladder can represent Indian pueblos in New Mexico (i.e., the ladders posted outside pueblos to allow inhabitants to move up & down between floors). The ladder might also represent Ancestral Pueblans (formerly the Anasazi) who may have used ladders used to move into & out of kivas. The clay pot further represents historical Indians.
Elsewhere, at the bottom of the down escalator (from the second floor to the first floor) is a small vestibule with artificial rock lining its two walls.
The rocks are set in layers with different sized stones & (slightly) different colors in each layer. The different layers may represent the many strata of sedimentary rock that often defines the Colorado Plateau as a geological wonderland (in a way similar to the “geologic fireplace” Mary Colter designed for the Bright Angel Lodge).
Other symbols of the Colorado Plateau & the desert Southwest one finds at the store include:
- A helicopter resting on the second floor: symbolizes not only the air tours one can purchase to visit the Grand Canyon (esp. from Las Vegas) but also the ideology that an air tour is an appropriate way of visiting the Canyon.
- Vigas (log rafters that stick out of the exterior wall): represent New Mexican pueblos & the Santa Fe style of architecture & design.
- The hiking Kokopelli-like figure on the exterior sign & on the helicopter inside: combines the common (to the point of being clichéd) Kokopelli figure with hiking as an appropriate activity (or hiking attire as a suitable personal style).
More information about the design of the exterior signage can be found at the Neon Survey website.
(All of this description is just the design & theming of the store; none of it even touches on the symbolism of the merchandise that is sold there--which would require a blog entry 10 times as long as this one.)
01 June 2009
Different Perceptual Approaches to Landscapes
Fresno, Calif.--Environmental controversies often involve different sides of the issue who see the landscape differently. In an excerpt from the May 11th edition of the High Country News about the development of solar energy generation in the Mojave Desert, two different perceptions of the desert are described:
The differences come from the different approaches to the landscape—both literally & figuratively as the article asserts. The literally different approaches are the geographically different routes: the high-speed interstate vs. the slower-speed two-lane highway. The figuratively different approaches are the different assumptions about what is in the landscape & what it can & should be used for.
These two different experiences form different sets of inferences & actions toward the landscape. The same is true of other landscapes (i.e., the Colorado Plateau) & other approaches (e.g., walking vs. driving).
There’s a way of looking at the Ivanpah site, passing by it on the I-15 freeway, that makes it seem like a fine place to put a concentrating solar plant. In fact, in the shadow of Primm, Nev., an unmitigated monstrosity of casinos, fast-food chains and amusement park rides, a few thousand acres of mirrors might actually look like a work of art.
But there’s another approach to Ivanpah, literally and figuratively. You can start driving there from the Marine base at Twentynine Palms, and thread your way up through the Mojave National Preserve. You can rumble along busted-up tarmac roads past the original Roy’s Motel along old Route 66 and the eerie black protuberance of the Amboy Crater, and pass through the Joshua tree forest at Cima, as dense as any stand of coastal redwoods. When you come at it this way, the Ivanpah Valley belongs to a continuum of open space extending west across the rugged Clark Mountains. It’s a swath of land stuck between segments of the Mojave Preserve that remains unexploited simply because no one has gotten around to exploiting it. (p. 22)
Judith Lewis. “High Noon: As the Climate Warms, Environmentalists Square Off Over Big Solar’s Claim to the Mojave Desert.” High Country News 11 May 2009, pp. 6-9+. http://www.hcn.org/issues/41.8/high-noon
The differences come from the different approaches to the landscape—both literally & figuratively as the article asserts. The literally different approaches are the geographically different routes: the high-speed interstate vs. the slower-speed two-lane highway. The figuratively different approaches are the different assumptions about what is in the landscape & what it can & should be used for.
These two different experiences form different sets of inferences & actions toward the landscape. The same is true of other landscapes (i.e., the Colorado Plateau) & other approaches (e.g., walking vs. driving).
10 March 2009
"Fantasy Trails across Popular Terrain" Part 2
Fresno, Calif.—In an earlier post I summarized Mark Neumann’s thesis that the Grand Canyon is a setting against which people play out personal stories of their authentic lives.
The fact that visitors need a setting for their own stories appears to conflict, then, with the Park Service’s need to tell the geological & historical story of the Grand Canyon. (One might presume that the Park Service “needs” to tell this story because they believe it’s the story visitors actually want to hear or the story they would benefit most from hearing.) The Park Service interpretation, therefore, forces the visitor’s story to play second-fiddle to the larger story of the Canyon.
(Now imagine the same philosophy applied to national parks, monuments, battlefields, wild & scenic rivers, etc. all around the Colorado Plateau & across the entire country.)
No such conflict at Disneyland, however, because Disneyland is a place designed to allow visitors to experience their own authentic stories/lives. (The question of whether those stories are really authentic is widely discussed elsewhere; here I’m speaking of the intent only.) So, Disneyland does what the Park Service refuses to do: acknowledge some of the core reasons visitors travel & cater to those reasons rather than fight against them.
At the Grand Canyon visitors make the Canyon the backdrop of their own stories in spite of the Park Service’s interpretation. At Disneyland visitors make the theme park the backdrop of their own stories because it’s designed for that purpose.
For instance, Disneyland’s story is largely backgrounded even though stories are provided at Disneyland. Attractions either create or, more often, recreate stories from folk tales & literature (princes & princesses in Fantasyland, Tom Sawyer & Huck Finn in Adventureland, ghosts at the Haunted Mansion, etc.) or from films (Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom, Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage, etc.). But these stories merely serve as the setting against which visitors can live out their own stories.
Many attractions not based on explicit storylines also feature their own backstories (e.g, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad’s backstory of how mines & a town being built on a sacred Native American site cause ruin). But again, these stories are backgrounded in favor the visitors’ own experiences creating stories on the rides.
Disney’s niche as story-maker for visitors’ own stories is especially well-illustrated by Adventures by Disney, the tour travel arm of the Disney corporation.
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This magazine advertisement suggests that the place, Monument Valley, along the Arizona/Utah border, is really nothing more than a backdrop for the individual traveler’s own story. The advertisement does not promise the visitor that they will see the sights (a more common perception of what travel is all about) but that the visitor will live the stories associated with those places.
In one sense, the places are almost interchangeable because what matters most is that the visitor experiences a story, not that the visitor see & learn about that specific place. Perhaps that is part of the contemporary critique of places becoming generic: not only are the places themselves becoming more & more generic but our meaning & use of them is also becoming more & more generic.
And as I’ve said before: I suspect that this is all true of Las Vegas, too. Perhaps that would be a good subject for a future post.
The fact that visitors need a setting for their own stories appears to conflict, then, with the Park Service’s need to tell the geological & historical story of the Grand Canyon. (One might presume that the Park Service “needs” to tell this story because they believe it’s the story visitors actually want to hear or the story they would benefit most from hearing.) The Park Service interpretation, therefore, forces the visitor’s story to play second-fiddle to the larger story of the Canyon.
(Now imagine the same philosophy applied to national parks, monuments, battlefields, wild & scenic rivers, etc. all around the Colorado Plateau & across the entire country.)
No such conflict at Disneyland, however, because Disneyland is a place designed to allow visitors to experience their own authentic stories/lives. (The question of whether those stories are really authentic is widely discussed elsewhere; here I’m speaking of the intent only.) So, Disneyland does what the Park Service refuses to do: acknowledge some of the core reasons visitors travel & cater to those reasons rather than fight against them.
At the Grand Canyon visitors make the Canyon the backdrop of their own stories in spite of the Park Service’s interpretation. At Disneyland visitors make the theme park the backdrop of their own stories because it’s designed for that purpose.
For instance, Disneyland’s story is largely backgrounded even though stories are provided at Disneyland. Attractions either create or, more often, recreate stories from folk tales & literature (princes & princesses in Fantasyland, Tom Sawyer & Huck Finn in Adventureland, ghosts at the Haunted Mansion, etc.) or from films (Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom, Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage, etc.). But these stories merely serve as the setting against which visitors can live out their own stories.
Many attractions not based on explicit storylines also feature their own backstories (e.g, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad’s backstory of how mines & a town being built on a sacred Native American site cause ruin). But again, these stories are backgrounded in favor the visitors’ own experiences creating stories on the rides.
Disney’s niche as story-maker for visitors’ own stories is especially well-illustrated by Adventures by Disney, the tour travel arm of the Disney corporation.
.jpg)
This magazine advertisement suggests that the place, Monument Valley, along the Arizona/Utah border, is really nothing more than a backdrop for the individual traveler’s own story. The advertisement does not promise the visitor that they will see the sights (a more common perception of what travel is all about) but that the visitor will live the stories associated with those places.
In one sense, the places are almost interchangeable because what matters most is that the visitor experiences a story, not that the visitor see & learn about that specific place. Perhaps that is part of the contemporary critique of places becoming generic: not only are the places themselves becoming more & more generic but our meaning & use of them is also becoming more & more generic.
And as I’ve said before: I suspect that this is all true of Las Vegas, too. Perhaps that would be a good subject for a future post.
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