Review: Owyhee Canyonlands
Reviewed by Robert Perret
Owyhee
Canyonlands
Lisk, Mark and William Fox
Caldwell: Caxton Press, 2008
978-0-87004-464-9, Hardcover
Photographs, 120 Pages, $27.95
Owyhee Canyonlands is primarily a book of photographs documenting one of the largest roadless areas in the continental United States; located in the region where Nevada, Oregon, and Idaho meet. Mark Lisk is a photographer based in Boise who has three previous published collections; Idaho Impressions (1997), Salmon River Country (2005), and Desert Water (2005). William Fox is an award winning writer and poet who has published six books including The Void, The Grid & The Sign: Traversing the Great Basin (2000).
The story of the Canyonlands, as told by Fox, begins 14 million years ago when a volcanic hotspot formed a large crater. The story then moves through the history of people in the area; from the Shoshone and Paiute tribes, to the introduction of fur trappers, to the gold rush, and up to today. Perhaps the most interesting tidbit is that the name Owyhee is a phonetic tribute to three Hawaiian explorers who disappeared in the lower Snake River Basin in 1818. In addition to the historical introduction each thematic section opens with a brief half-page narrative, ranging in topic from the Idaho Conservation League Executive Director Rick Johnson's overwrought account of a kayaking trip, to "Outdoor Adventurist" Steve Stuebner's informative and emotive reflection on this rocky landscape. This textual history of the region provides an excellent context for appreciating the beautiful photographs.
The way the region is viewed is as complicated as the landscape itself. Photographer Mark Lisk states that he feels he is betraying a landscape untouched by modernity yet he is compelled to continue his photography in an effort to comprehend this unique environment. At the same time essayist William Fox describes the effects that an increased awareness of the area has already had. ATV tracks criss-cross the landscape while Air Force planes maneuver overhead. Lisk captures the transition in shots like Open Rangeland (pp. 50 -51) where a seemingly pristine landscape is revealed to contain an intersection which speaks of inhabitation to come. From the outset we are presented with an interesting duality in the depiction of the region. Photographer Mark Lisk lauds a landscape untouched by modernity while essayist William Fox bemoans the widespread use of ATVs and the encroachment of the Air Force in the area.
Of course, in a collection of photography the text is secondary to the photographs and it is here that this collection really shines. Lisk takes some absolutely stunning shots of the landscape, the best of which are often spread across two pages. Some, like the Harvey Cabin and a double rainbow over Pruett's Castle in Chalk Basin, cry out for a large print and have a scope which exceeds the confines of the book. The trunk of an Old Poplar Tree (p. 56) against a barren backdrop projects a memorable resoluteness. Meanwhile the Harvey Cabin (p. 63) is a compelling example of human influence being subsumed by the environment as the structure seemingly capitulates to the luminous majesty which surrounds it. In fact, at 26 centimeters square, this book is really too small to do most of the photographs justice.
Some of the photographs do lean towards photographic art instead of realistic depictions of the area. In an attempt to bring out the patina on an iron door, a picture of the Black Rock Crossing homestead is suffused in a supernatural green aura. Likewise the colors on a photo of Alder Groves on Jump Creek are so supersaturated that it gives the impression of a black light poster. With an already beautiful landscape these forays into the fantastical are wisely more the exception than the rule. Over a career of photographing Idaho, Lisk has clearly developed a few standbys. There are a lot of reflections in water in this collection. Even more distinctly, there are a lot of images of geological rises which are half in the sun and half in the shade, as if you are looking away from a sunrise or sunset. Overall, this book is an enjoyable visual trek through a region of Idaho most of us will not see firsthand and it is highly recommended for all Idaho libraries.
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Robert Perret is a reference librarian
at The University of Idaho Library in Moscow.
The Idaho Librarian (ISSN: 2151-7738) is a publication of the Idaho Library Association.