Olivia
Timothy O’Sullivan was born into a pivotal moment in American history. Thrown into turmoil by civil war, with the question of westward expansion obscuring its future, America was ripe with subject matter for a young artist launching a career (Encyclopædia Britannica). Apprenticing at Matthew Brady’s daguerreotype studio, O’Sullivan augmented his artistic talents with a new familiarity in the bourgeoning field of photography (Encyclopædia Britannica). Capitalizing upon these skills as the war commenced, the photographer divorced his ties with Brady and journeyed to the front with the intent of capturing the ongoing atrocities (Encyclopædia Britannica). His works, many of which were later published, won great acclaim as they broke from the traditional mode of photographing resting armies (Encyclopædia Britannica). Instead, O’Sullivan probed the ultimate purpose of the violence, as in his famed A Harvest of Death, with which he implores the viewer’s eye to travel beyond the fallen soldiers of Gettysburg and into the enigmatic haze of the background. The artist’s success in encapsulating the horrors of war won him attention and a federal commission to image America’s western frontier.
Between 1867 and 1869, the photographer joined in an expedition formally known as Clarence King’s United States Geological Exploration of the 40th Parallel (The Art Institute of Chicago). Tasked with the mission of surveying and recording the landscape of the American west, O’Sullivan amassed an array of images depicting a range of terrain, from deep valleys to treacherous peaks (Smithsonian American Art Museum). His work was to have a scientific and economic purpose; distinct from the public’s eyes that yearned to explore a foreign habitat, the government saw the subject matter as a territory soon to be colonized (Miller). These photographs were to demonstrate the accumulated knowledge of the first governmental survey team, depicting an awareness of geological formations, regional flora and fauna, and indigenous inhabitants of the land (Miller). While satisfying the demands of his vocation, O’Sullivan endeavored to enhance the photographs with an artistic flair, placing great emphasis upon composition arrangement (Smithsonian American Art Museum). The resulting images were emotionally potent representations of the final days these expanses remained untouched.
Delving into the foreign environment of the American West, O’Sullivan encountered an expansive landscape largely unaffected by man. Indeed, the sanctity and purity of the land was the antithesis of the industrialized North he had called home. O’Sullivan communicates the separation between these two worlds in his photograph, Sand Dunes, Carson Desert, Nevada. In an environ that appears monochrome, the sand dunes harmonizing with the horizon in an indistinguishable line, the saturated darkroom wagon and mules are at odds with their surroundings (The J. Paul Getty Museum). Bearing all of O’Sullivan’s photography equipment, the wagon embodies all that industrialization has produced (Miller). Yet despite the darker hue, the wagon is made almost insignificant, dwarfed by the unending oscillations of sandy knolls. The artist plays with the idea of the land’s might with the implied impermanence of man’s presence (Miller). The wagon’s tracks show it has accomplished a U-turn and is soon to depart from the land (The J. Paul Getty Museum). Although O’Sullivan’s footsteps make his path painfully evident, the smooth surfaces of the dunes suggest that the wind will soon brush away his footsteps. And when his path has been erased and the wagon has moved onward, no markings will remain as clues to the artist’s presence. O’Sullivan questions his work’s purpose, its lasting effects in a world in which only nature is permanent.
Venturing into present-day Arizona, O’Sullivan and his small party separated from the larger expedition to reconnoiter land once held by the Zuni people (The J. Paul Getty Museum). At Cañon de Chelle, the group encountered remnants of pre-Columbian architecture, preserved within a cavity fifty feet above the canyon floor (The J. Paul Getty Museum). The resulting photograph, known as Ancient Ruins in the Cañon de Chelle, New Mexico, emphasizes the deep contrasts of the desert’s light and shadow. As the sun’s rays stream into the ravine, they give shape and texture to the cliff walls. And the light continues to brighten the image, illuminating the faces of the ancient 11th century structures (The J. Paul Getty Museum). Yet as the escarpment begins to recede, opening to a gaping cave, an opaque black mouth forbids entrance. An air of mystery engulfs the now abandoned Indian village. Is this a bright, happy discovery as the sun-lit facades suggest, or is it a tainted one, one that realizes the ominous notes of the cave’s dark gloom? We, as viewers far from the subject matter shall never discover the truth. But we must acknowledge that O’Sullivan frames his subject in a manner quite similar to artists of the Romanticism (Easby). The ruins of a deserted pueblo are equated to the time-worn, classical debris of once grand structures that litter the works of great Romantic painters (Easby). Both stand as emblems of man’s insignificance and endeavor to glorify the power of nature. O’Sullivan’s photograph implies that this land, although it will inevitably be settled by westward expansionists, will endure long beyond the presence of the American civilization (Miller). And as his photograph reveals the simple elegance of the environment, O’Sullivan silently pleas for settlers to respect and preserve the beauty of the land.
Timothy O’Sullivan’s work with the western landscape persisted long after the ending of the 40th Parallel expedition (The Art Institute of Chicago). Acting as a key photographer for the Darien Expedition in the Isthmus of Panama and then returning the United States’ southwest to survey the 100th Meridian, the artist furnished the American government with a prolific body of work (The Art Institute of Chicago). His images proved vital in understanding the complexities of the newly American territories. But O’Sullivan’s photographs endure today because of their thoughtful presentation of a pivotal moment in American history. The artist communicates the sheer power and unending beauty of the western expanse. Telling a story through the land, Timothy O’Sullivan relays the wonder of Americans as they encountered the magnificent land they would eventually call home.
Works Cited
Easby, Rebecca Jeffrey. “O’Sullivan's Ancient Ruins in the Cañon de Chelle.” Smart History by Khan Academy. 28 January 2013.
<http://smarthistory.khanacademy.org/timothy-osullivans-ancient-ruins-in-the-canyon-de-chelly.html>.
“Framing the West: The Survey Photographs of Timothy H. O'Sullivan.” 2010. Smithsonian American Art Museum. 28 January 2013.
<http://americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/archive/2010/osullivan/>.
Miller, Angela, et al. American Encounters: Art, History, and Cultural Identity. London: Prentice Hall, 2008. 273-275. 133-136.
“Timothy H. O'Sullivan.” The J. Paul Getty Museum. 28 January 2013.
< http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artMakerDetails?maker=1928.>
“Timothy H. O'Sullivan: The King Survey Photographs.” 2011. Art Institute of Chicago. 28 January 2013.
<http://www.artic.edu/exhibition/kingsurveywork>.
"Timothy O'Sullivan." 2013. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. 28 January 2013.
<http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/434522/Timothy-OSullivan>.
Images Cited
“Ancient Ruins in the Cañon de Chelle, New Mexico.” The J. Paul Getty Museum. 28 January 2013.
< http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artObjectDetails?artobj=46709.>
“Desert Sand Hills near Sink of Carson, Nevada.” The J. Paul Getty Museum. 28 January 2013.
< http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artObjectDetails?artobj=46747.>
"Timothy O'Sullivan." 2013. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. 28 January 2013.
<http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/434522/Timothy-OSullivan>.
Timothy O’Sullivan was born into a pivotal moment in American history. Thrown into turmoil by civil war, with the question of westward expansion obscuring its future, America was ripe with subject matter for a young artist launching a career (Encyclopædia Britannica). Apprenticing at Matthew Brady’s daguerreotype studio, O’Sullivan augmented his artistic talents with a new familiarity in the bourgeoning field of photography (Encyclopædia Britannica). Capitalizing upon these skills as the war commenced, the photographer divorced his ties with Brady and journeyed to the front with the intent of capturing the ongoing atrocities (Encyclopædia Britannica). His works, many of which were later published, won great acclaim as they broke from the traditional mode of photographing resting armies (Encyclopædia Britannica). Instead, O’Sullivan probed the ultimate purpose of the violence, as in his famed A Harvest of Death, with which he implores the viewer’s eye to travel beyond the fallen soldiers of Gettysburg and into the enigmatic haze of the background. The artist’s success in encapsulating the horrors of war won him attention and a federal commission to image America’s western frontier.
Between 1867 and 1869, the photographer joined in an expedition formally known as Clarence King’s United States Geological Exploration of the 40th Parallel (The Art Institute of Chicago). Tasked with the mission of surveying and recording the landscape of the American west, O’Sullivan amassed an array of images depicting a range of terrain, from deep valleys to treacherous peaks (Smithsonian American Art Museum). His work was to have a scientific and economic purpose; distinct from the public’s eyes that yearned to explore a foreign habitat, the government saw the subject matter as a territory soon to be colonized (Miller). These photographs were to demonstrate the accumulated knowledge of the first governmental survey team, depicting an awareness of geological formations, regional flora and fauna, and indigenous inhabitants of the land (Miller). While satisfying the demands of his vocation, O’Sullivan endeavored to enhance the photographs with an artistic flair, placing great emphasis upon composition arrangement (Smithsonian American Art Museum). The resulting images were emotionally potent representations of the final days these expanses remained untouched.
Delving into the foreign environment of the American West, O’Sullivan encountered an expansive landscape largely unaffected by man. Indeed, the sanctity and purity of the land was the antithesis of the industrialized North he had called home. O’Sullivan communicates the separation between these two worlds in his photograph, Sand Dunes, Carson Desert, Nevada. In an environ that appears monochrome, the sand dunes harmonizing with the horizon in an indistinguishable line, the saturated darkroom wagon and mules are at odds with their surroundings (The J. Paul Getty Museum). Bearing all of O’Sullivan’s photography equipment, the wagon embodies all that industrialization has produced (Miller). Yet despite the darker hue, the wagon is made almost insignificant, dwarfed by the unending oscillations of sandy knolls. The artist plays with the idea of the land’s might with the implied impermanence of man’s presence (Miller). The wagon’s tracks show it has accomplished a U-turn and is soon to depart from the land (The J. Paul Getty Museum). Although O’Sullivan’s footsteps make his path painfully evident, the smooth surfaces of the dunes suggest that the wind will soon brush away his footsteps. And when his path has been erased and the wagon has moved onward, no markings will remain as clues to the artist’s presence. O’Sullivan questions his work’s purpose, its lasting effects in a world in which only nature is permanent.
Venturing into present-day Arizona, O’Sullivan and his small party separated from the larger expedition to reconnoiter land once held by the Zuni people (The J. Paul Getty Museum). At Cañon de Chelle, the group encountered remnants of pre-Columbian architecture, preserved within a cavity fifty feet above the canyon floor (The J. Paul Getty Museum). The resulting photograph, known as Ancient Ruins in the Cañon de Chelle, New Mexico, emphasizes the deep contrasts of the desert’s light and shadow. As the sun’s rays stream into the ravine, they give shape and texture to the cliff walls. And the light continues to brighten the image, illuminating the faces of the ancient 11th century structures (The J. Paul Getty Museum). Yet as the escarpment begins to recede, opening to a gaping cave, an opaque black mouth forbids entrance. An air of mystery engulfs the now abandoned Indian village. Is this a bright, happy discovery as the sun-lit facades suggest, or is it a tainted one, one that realizes the ominous notes of the cave’s dark gloom? We, as viewers far from the subject matter shall never discover the truth. But we must acknowledge that O’Sullivan frames his subject in a manner quite similar to artists of the Romanticism (Easby). The ruins of a deserted pueblo are equated to the time-worn, classical debris of once grand structures that litter the works of great Romantic painters (Easby). Both stand as emblems of man’s insignificance and endeavor to glorify the power of nature. O’Sullivan’s photograph implies that this land, although it will inevitably be settled by westward expansionists, will endure long beyond the presence of the American civilization (Miller). And as his photograph reveals the simple elegance of the environment, O’Sullivan silently pleas for settlers to respect and preserve the beauty of the land.
Timothy O’Sullivan’s work with the western landscape persisted long after the ending of the 40th Parallel expedition (The Art Institute of Chicago). Acting as a key photographer for the Darien Expedition in the Isthmus of Panama and then returning the United States’ southwest to survey the 100th Meridian, the artist furnished the American government with a prolific body of work (The Art Institute of Chicago). His images proved vital in understanding the complexities of the newly American territories. But O’Sullivan’s photographs endure today because of their thoughtful presentation of a pivotal moment in American history. The artist communicates the sheer power and unending beauty of the western expanse. Telling a story through the land, Timothy O’Sullivan relays the wonder of Americans as they encountered the magnificent land they would eventually call home.
Works Cited
Easby, Rebecca Jeffrey. “O’Sullivan's Ancient Ruins in the Cañon de Chelle.” Smart History by Khan Academy. 28 January 2013.
<http://smarthistory.khanacademy.org/timothy-osullivans-ancient-ruins-in-the-canyon-de-chelly.html>.
“Framing the West: The Survey Photographs of Timothy H. O'Sullivan.” 2010. Smithsonian American Art Museum. 28 January 2013.
<http://americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/archive/2010/osullivan/>.
Miller, Angela, et al. American Encounters: Art, History, and Cultural Identity. London: Prentice Hall, 2008. 273-275. 133-136.
“Timothy H. O'Sullivan.” The J. Paul Getty Museum. 28 January 2013.
< http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artMakerDetails?maker=1928.>
“Timothy H. O'Sullivan: The King Survey Photographs.” 2011. Art Institute of Chicago. 28 January 2013.
<http://www.artic.edu/exhibition/kingsurveywork>.
"Timothy O'Sullivan." 2013. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. 28 January 2013.
<http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/434522/Timothy-OSullivan>.
Images Cited
“Ancient Ruins in the Cañon de Chelle, New Mexico.” The J. Paul Getty Museum. 28 January 2013.
< http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artObjectDetails?artobj=46709.>
“Desert Sand Hills near Sink of Carson, Nevada.” The J. Paul Getty Museum. 28 January 2013.
< http://www.getty.edu/art/gettyguide/artObjectDetails?artobj=46747.>
"Timothy O'Sullivan." 2013. Encyclopædia Britannica Online. 28 January 2013.
<http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic/434522/Timothy-OSullivan>.