redemption


  • Photographer
    Noemi Armstrong
  • Prize
    Honorable Mention
  • Date of Photograph
    7/2009
  • Technical Info
    B&W film 4x5 & 120mm

I was struck by their presence in the landscape. I immediately thought angels, simple in form, looming, powerful and graceful. I was gazing upon a wind farm with turbines, in large numbers, like regimental soldiers, though somewhat out of step. Harvesting the wind. Harmoniously engaging the powerful attributes of the ephemeral environment. Their presence is a hopeful sign that a balance is being sought. As they move, adjusting to the changing wind patterns I liken their moans to monks in a monastery reciting mantras, not quite as melodic or rhythmic and again, somewhat out of step, a meditation, of sorts.

Story

I was struck by their presence in the landscape. I immediately thought angels, simple in form, looming, powerful and graceful. I was gazing upon a wind farm with turbines, in large numbers, like regimental soldiers, though somewhat out of step. Soldiers…angels…. aesthetically, I think them engaging exercises in form and function. The impact of their presence is a discernment of their potential to emancipate, to liberate us from a dysfunctional dependence on relationships with foreign oil interests. The potential to give small, family owned farms new life and independence from banks and corporate interests, at least in those areas where wind is plentiful. Residential versions are the ultimate modern appliance. Partially taking the individual off of the “grid” and potentially profiting by selling back to it. Harvesting the wind. Harmoniously engaging the powerful attributes of the ephemeral environment. We are seeing turbines pop up in unexpected, but practical places. Their presence is a hopeful sign that a balance is being sought. I get a rush of excitement for their implication of progress every time I see a row or just a scattered few harnessing the power of the wind, when it presents itself. Being among them on the ground is an interesting experience, almost spiritual, certainly calming. As they move, adjusting to the changing wind patterns I liken their moans to monks in a monastery reciting mantras, not quite as melodic or rhythmic and again, somewhat out of step, a meditation, of sorts.

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