gee hurkmans

SEEING BEYOND SEEING

“Arriving at the rim of this famous landmark, they shuffle about, searching for a sign that says 'shoot here'.

With one preset image labeled GRAND CANYON in their minds, blinding them to what lies below,

they search for the one and only ‘right’ spot to stand.”

— Joel Meyerowitz

The Glen Etive waterfall is likely the most photographed waterfall in Scotland, largely due to its surroundings: the mountain Buachaille Etive Mòr (pronounced “bookl”) towers majestically above the landscape, forming a dramatic backdrop. Add to that the typical red-brown hues of the Highlands and the often threatening, dark skies, and all that’s left is to press the shutter button for a “wow” photo.

It’s still at least half an hour before sunrise. From a stone 20 meters from the waterfall, I take in the half-dark landscape. The Etive carries little water today, making the waterfall significantly less impressive. There are no roads or railways in the vicinity, and because it's windless, all I hear is the sound of the falling water.

In the early twilight of the “golden hour,” doubt strikes again: what am I looking for at this photographic hotspot? This place has such a magical allure that I’ve been here now for the fifth morning in a row. Without results. This spot is photographed to death, and although I’ve taken pictures over the past few days under the most ideal conditions (the low sun casting stripes over the mountain, a sky filled with generous heavy clouds, and a river carrying enough meltwater to make the waterfall roar down its full width), they result only in clichés. In every respect, good landscape photos, but they remain clichés because I clung to the registered ideal image and lacked the flexibility not to conform to it.

The first photographers have now arrived and are exploring the area in search of a composition. All men (where are the women?) in rain jackets and boots, busy with backpacks, tripods, and expensive cameras, grumbling about the low water in the waterfall and a uniformly gray sky with little articulation. You can see where most photos are taken by the tripod holes in the mud around the waterfall, serving as a sort of “shoot here” sign.

I put on my backpack and walk to a spot without tripod holes or boot prints. From here, you don’t get the popular vista, but my eye catches a detail in the waterfall. A small, miserable stream of water falls barely a meter onto a beautifully rounded stone. I carefully climb down the wet and slippery rocks, and down below, out of sight of my fellow photographers, I stand before “my” Buachaille. It feels like a discovery, an epiphany. A tiny waterfall that in volume and force doesn’t compare to the main one above. In the shelter of this alcove, the trickle of water creates a soft, tinkling sound, refined compared to the deafening roar above. I could spend hours here, breathing in the surroundings with a sense of bliss and inner peace; the Stoics called this state Ataraxia: a tranquil feeling of equanimity in which there is no room for anxious thoughts, the ideal of soul rest. Like Gauguin, I close my eyes to see, a light breeze on my face, a tear wells up in my eyes. Everything is right as it is, as it smells, as it should be. I need nothing more and no longer need to search. The image has found me.

The image is mysterious and suggestive. The term Yugen literally means "dark,” "obscure,” and refers to beauty that is only partially perceived. Its power lies in suggestion. Kamo no Chōmei, a hermit and writer, described Yugen in 1212 as follows: “It is like an autumn evening under a colorless expanse of silent sky. Somehow, as if for some reason that we should be able to recall, tears well uncontrollably.” Yugen appeals to our imagination; it suggests rather than explicates. Due to its mysterious nature, it is sometimes mistakenly thought that Yugen refers to something transcendental, to another world. On the contrary: with Yugen, imagination gives our own world a deeper meaning.

Don’t get into one form, adapt it and build your own,

and let it grow, be like water.

Empty your mind, be formless, shapeless - like water.

Be water, my friend.

— Bruce Lee