
Edward Burtynsky, "SOCAR Oil Fields #3, Baku, Azerbaijan, 2006," Chromogenic color print. Copyright the artist, courtesy Nicholas Metiveir Gallery, Toronto and Corcoran Gallery of Art.
"How do you photograph something you can't see?," was the question Edward Burtynsky faced when creating the images in Oil, on view at the Corcoran Gallery of Art starting tomorrow. The world-renowned photographer began his career focused on consumerism and consumption, but around 15 years ago he had his "oil epiphany" – that oil is at the center of everything in an industrialized world and yet, we never see it, only its end products. The resulting portfolio of work is not a heavy-handed political statement, but a gorgeous documentary on the uses and ugliness of oil. I first discovered Burtynsky's work in the (must-see) 2006 documentary Manufactured Landscapes and, admittedly, have eagerly been looking forward to seeing his work in person. It did not even remotely disappoint.
Burtynsky's large-scale, sweeping landscape photographs deftly allow us to "see" oil, both in each powerful individual scene, and together in a longer narrative, which is how the Corcoran has set up his exhibit. In the first gallery, oil fields in California and Houston and refineries in New Brunswick set the scene. In mostly aerial shots, oil rigs dot an otherwise barren landscape fading all the way into remarkable horizons, marking the beginning of the "lifecycle." A Texan near me at the press preview exclaimed, "In my district they'd never be that close together!" Is that better, then, if the same number of rigs take up even more space? (Would it make as interesting a picture?) The refineries are highly organized labyrinths of green and silver pipes that look like fine jewelry.

Edward Burtynsky, "AMARC #5, Davis-Monthan AFB, Tuscon, Arizon, USA, 2006."
Chromogenic color print. Copyright the artist, courtesy Hasted Hunt Kraeutler,
New York and Corcoran Gallery of Art.
The second gallery, "Transportation and Motor Culture," is perhaps the highlight of the exhibit. Here, the work alternates between earnest, plain-spoken statements – the obscene, gigantic landfill of black rubber tires – and his "culture" shots that tap into a bit of dark humor. Images of Talladega Speedway, a Volkswagon parking lot, the motorcycle section at a KISS concert, and a Trucker's Jamboree are all incredible and amusing scenes, dedicated to cultures where the engine sits on the altar. In a way, the images are a tribute to the innovations that began with oil: the extraordinary vehicles in the Bonneville Land Speed-Trials, the intricate architecture of the Nanpu Bridge Interchange in Shanghai. In another way, they're shameful and embarrassing even to look at: airplane and helicopter graveyards; a Pennsylvania interchange packed with gas station on top of gas station, where no actual people live for miles and miles. It's a culture not just of extraordinary innovation but of gross excess, and where that line is drawn is not for Burtynsky to say, it's for each of us to decide and embrace.
The third gallery is a forecast of our future, if we can't ever find that line. While the first two galleries contain images taken almost solely in the U.S. and Canada (Burtynsky is Canadian), this gallery is mostly Bangladesh, where massive oil tankers go to die. Men and even very young boys earn wages by breaking down the ships in incredibly dangerous and ugly work. In an image called Recycling #2, three young men stand in black sludge up to their ankles, an almost sickly laughable twist on what most Americans consider the clean and pure act of "recycling."
Burtynsky is a lauded success for a reason: his images land perfectly in the intersection of beauty and purpose. They're more than Ansel Adams-esque landscape visions, they're instruction manuals on how to use patterns and color, and how to combine nature with the man made (and what man has made of nature). Earlier I said that the images are not "heavy-handed," but they are powerful, and that power comes from Burtynsky's ability to reveal truths instead of telling them, the goal of every artist.
Oil opens October 3 and runs through December 13. Tomorrow, hear Edward Burtynsky and Dr. William Rees (contributor to the exhibition catalog) speak about the exhibit at 4 p.m. $10, or free with gallery admission. The Corcoran Gallery of Art is located at 500 17th Street NW, see web site for hours and admission.



Looks like an interesting show. Thanks for the heads-up Heather.