Jane Sydney Photographs of Dunes, et al



Death Valley Blue Dune 2
by Jane Sydney



 

The room is referred to as the “Meditation Room”, and is located in the Wentworth Douglass Hospital in Dover, New Hampshire. It is a quiet, little room that patients and loved ones go, most often to grieve.

The room is very simply decorated—a small, almost dimly lit rectangle with a dark, non-descript carpet; four matching chairs; a glass bookcase; a large, green, fake plant in one corner; and some pseudo pink and white orchids situated on a narrow, yellow shelf that protrudes from one wall.

On all four walls, are a series of abstract photographs of sand dunes, taken by Ms. Sydney. All the photographs are landscape, 8 x 10-inch images, neatly framed with a neutral mat and a soft gold, wooden frame.

Moving from left to right, at about eye level, is the first photograph (Death Valley—blue dune 2). The dunes have a soft look, and the colors are shades of blue, and violet—so subtle a change from one to the next. Only in the foreground, can the viewer see the windswept pattern on the sand, like ripples in water—the only hint that one is looking at an actual photograph. Otherwise, the image looks much like a water color of soft, sloping lines blending together. I couldn’t help but associate its appearance with a Georgia O’Keefe painting.

The next image appears to have been taken in the same spot, only from more of a distance (Death Valley—blue dune 1). Narrow ripples show in the foreground again; however, this perspective makes the dunes more recognizable, yet it is very similar to the first photo—soft blue and violet slopes mixed with warm tones from the sunlight reflecting off the sand.

The third image of dunes is similar—still abstract (name?). There are valleys of sunlight on slopes to the left side of the frame, while shadows of other dunes to the right balance the composition, bringing the eye left to right, and back. Ripples in the foreground are seen again, and bring the eye into the background as well. It’s like a slow waltz for the eyes.

With the next image comes a bit of a surprise. In golden tones from sunlight and shadows there sits a tumbleweed, not quite dead center, in the foreground. This time rippled patterns in the sandy slopes all run to it. And low vegetation and stones seem to have come to greet it, creating a semi-circle in front of it. The sunlight highlights its warm, golden “hair”, and gives a nice contrast with the texture of the sand.

The theme continues around the room—each similar, yet very unique. One of the prints appears iridescent, with shades of shimmering peacock blues, greens, yellows, and brown. This one was perhaps manipulated a bit, and one can actually see the texture of the silver on the paper.

Another image appears like the smooth (yet flat) lower backside of a nude (Death Valley Shadow Play). The tones are soft and almost flesh toned. And the shading is exaggerated, perhaps to make for more dramatic lighting, to better define the shapes of the dunes as one body.

All of the images have a calm feeling with their smoothness and mostly warm tones. There seems to be no beginning or end within each composition. Could this be their intended message for this room?

Two more photos reside, one above the other, by the doorway to this room. One is an image of heavy, rustic doors, with cross cutouts in each—an entry way for a chapel perhaps. Warm gold light emanates through the cross of the door on the left, and a brighter, white light comes through the cross cutout on the right. Strangely, a large, heavy looking chain has been pulled through each door, and padlocked, yet the doors don’t quite meet—they are ajar. A warm, golden light shines between them, and within, the facing wall has some sort of large printed words, indicating importance.

Below this image is one of a cool colored, blue-green architectural exterior, with a recessed archway for a window. Corinthian relief columns to the side of the window flank a graceful female statue, with a long fitted, draping dress. One of her arms is up, with her hand almost to her heart, as if offering an expression of sympathy to the viewer. Through the window glows a warm, yellow light.

As I sit writing my notes, I notice a leather-bound book on the table beside me. Embossed on its cover are the words “Trust in the Lord”. I decide to open it, and read an entry written by someone’s grieving sister, and start to cry.