Colours of Antarctica is a new photographic series by Stuart Robertson that brings to life the stark, surreal beauty of the frozen continent of Antartica.
From 26 September – 4 October, for eight days only, Glorious Digital are offering access to this limited-edition series featuring eight photographs priced at NZ$500 each. Every purchase includes a signed physical edition and blockchain-authenticated digital edition, with all proceeds supporting vital Antarctic conservation and research efforts. Purchases can be made through the Glorious Digital website.
Here, we speak to Robertson about his experiences on the continent.
ART NEWS
Tell us more about your relationship to Antarctica—when did you first visit and how did that opportunity arise?
STUART ROBERTSON
Antarctica is a pivotal creative juncture for me, a place I had always dreamt of but never truly believed I would experience. Through my art project, Peace in 10,000 Hands, I was invited by Antarctica New Zealand (in the 2015/2016 and 2018/2019 seasons) to explore the continent in a journey that both gently guided and forcefully transformed my artistic vision and inner self.
The Antarctic Treaty, a landmark agreement for ‘Peace and Scientific Endeavour,’ became the conceptual bedrock for a visual dialogue I sought to create— ‘Peace on the Ice’. The unyielding landscapes, the profound silence, and the fragile purity of Antarctica have left an indelible mark, shaping the very core of my creative process.
I’ve heard it said that there are colours in Antarctica seen nowhere else in the world. What strikes or surprises you most about the Antarctica landscape?
The Antarctic landscape is clear, crisp, honest. A realm that’s stepped aside time, untouched by the human hand. To witness it is to gaze back millions of years to the unspoilt.
Antarctica is unworldly in the redaction it offers visitors, in ways not experienced anywhere else on the planet. There is no gradient in the introduction of the landscape. It is immediately right there, no warning. You step off the LC-130 when you land on the ice—it is very cold, immediately awakening the senses. An unworldly landscape of extremes, the coldest, windiest, driest, quietest place on the planet.
Under a heavy and overcast sky at Shackleton’s Hut, I found myself facing a palette of colours I’d never conceived. The sea ice had melted away, leaving open water in front of the hut with a few distant penguins scattered across the remaining ice. I caught sight of a small ripple in the water, perhaps a whale—though it seemed unlikely with the open ocean blocked by frozen sea ice. I waited for more than half an hour in the freezing cold, hoping. To my extreme delight and surprise, two adult killer whales accompanied by their young one surfaced and swam by surveying the area. I was utterly entranced, their power and quiet majesty cutting through the desolate silence. The sound of disturbed water and my thumping heart. A moment I will never forget.
It was not just the whales that shocked me, the vast landscape itself is extraordinary without signs of life. The sky cast in an uncanny shade of pale pink mushroom, a colour I had never seen, creating a visceral moment of discovery and awe within a new colour palette. I gasped, startled by the unfamiliar hues that nature unveiled. The stillness, complete and utter silence, the penetrating cold, alien colours, and the presence of magnificent creatures. All compounding and creating an experience so extraordinary that it left me boggled and searching for the new truth. I imagined early explorers sitting in this very spot outside the hut, beholding a similar symphony of colours, unlike anything they had also known. The Antarctic light, ever shifting with the seasons, must have revealed to them, as it did to me, a palette unique to this otherworldly place.
The desolate plains of snow abstract the geography to the point where it almost appears artificially rendered. Are there any techniques that you employ to try and re-animate the landscape, to make it feel tangible? Close-ups of specific phenomena alongside more awesome full-bodied views, for example?
To me desolation is redaction. Antarctica lays the senses bare. It is fair to say many scenes could look artificially rendered, given the suite of expectations that power one’s preconceptions. To redact is to create space for what does not normally occupy the mind and soul. A profound way of forcing the brain and the very body we occupy, to search for ways to fill this newly unoccupied void.
There is no smell in Antarctica; in summer it is light 24 hours a day. You are dealing with a lot that all conspires and prevails to leave space for the flow of creative process. I’ve found that I’ve been unable to emulate that process since and deeply desire to experience it again. The camera doesn’t react the same when the sensor has nothing to sense, and the mind’s void is left bare to create.
As well as the landscapes, you have photographed the continent’s built environments, from heritage sites associated with early explorers such as Ernest Shackleton, to the contemporary scientific communities undertaking critical climate research. What connections can we draw from this history of human contact with the harsh conditions?
Discovery is in the human blood, it rests within us to journey beyond a known horizon line. Endurance remains key to the achievement of all goals. The constructed environments of Antarctica, including the heritage sites and contemporary scientific bases, stand as monuments to our relentless pursuit of knowledge. The early explorers may have sought to map the unknown, while today’s scientific communities endeavour to understand the pressing climate realities of our time. Yet, both face the same unforgiving conditions.
It is unfathomable to understand the extreme danger, daily discomfort and level of unknown early explorers ran full steam into and dealt with. No safety nets, no communication, no help, no reprieve from nature to fix anything that breaks. Only ice, rock, and the presence of seals, whales, or penguins. The stories of survival and perseverance in this landscape have been passed into folklore, yet they are no less real for their mythic status. The weight of their spirit and their sacrifices run deep in you when you are on the ice.
As the early explorers quickly learned, endurance here is not just physical but metaphysical. This place strips away the non-essential, leaving a void that demands to be filled with something deeper. An understanding of our place within nature, or of nature’s dominance over us.
Can you speak about your photography process? When you work with technologies such as drones, are there ways you mitigate noise pollution or disruption of the natural environment?
I strive to create a visual poem for people to experience, where colour and composition collide to communicate in place of words. My process begins with my eye, observing whether what I see can be translated into an image that will move the viewer, maybe even stop them in their tracks. Inviting them to think in new ways. It’s about revealing a scene from an alternate perspective, offering a glimpse of our world that may be out of reach for many, and opening an emotional connection to that place. A place perhaps only imagined until now by the viewer.
When working with technology, such as drones, I am deeply mindful of the impact they may have on the natural environment. I take great care to mitigate any noise pollution and disruption.
For me, it’s essential that the technology serves the vision without disturbing the peace and solitude that these landscapes evoke. Drones allow me to capture perspectives otherwise impossible, I ensure they are used with respect for the tranquillity of the space. So the poetry of the moment remains untouched by the intrusion of modernity. In this way, my approach marries the precision of technology and nature. I live to ensure the integrity of both the image and environment.
This text was published in partnership with Glorious Digital.
Click here to view the full series and purchase the artworks.
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