Pigment ink print on archival paper
_ 87 x 58 cm, limited edition of 15 - signed, numbered, with certificate
_ 58 x 38,7 cm, limited edition of 25 - signed, numbered, with certificate
_ 25,5 x 17 cm, open edition
* all prints come with a white border of about 2 cm, which allows proper handling and greatly facilitates matting and framing; the sizes mentioned above are net sizes that do not include this border
** prices do not include posting and packaging
*** prints are not sold matted or framed; the pictures below are meant to illustrate the matting and framing of an actual print (and yes, I definitely should have used non-reflective glass !)
I remember very well my first visit to Jökulsárlón. My expectations of the place were high, primed as I was by images suggesting an environment that was both as beautiful and enchanting as it was treacherous. In my mind’s eye, I was alone, watching icebergs slowly drifting to sea under a gloomy sky. The sense of foreboding caused by the upcoming bad weather held at bay by the peaceful solitude of the scene unfolding in front of me.
Goes to show how powerful the imagination really is. And how like with movies, what’s just outside the frame doesn’t exist in the world of the image. What matters is where the image takes you, emotionally.
Driving up to the parking lot proved to be a very sobering experience. Right beside the road was a large area filled to the brim with cars, buses, a food truck, a large sanitary unit, companies offering amphibian, zodiac, or kayak tours on the lagune, … and people. Lots of people. I was so shaken I left my camera gear in the car and went for a walk along the eastern shore of the lagune. After some 15 minutes (and a rather brisk stroll) I found myself almost alone. For practical reasons, most visitors tend to stick around the mouth of the lagune which acts as a funnel and therefore has the greatest concentration of icebergs. I enjoyed the view for a while, but with no camera and no icebergs close to me, I convinced myself this was merely a recce that set me up for a more informed future visit. Truth be told, by the time I got back to the car, I was happy to feast on one of those delicious lobster sandwiches from the food truck before driving back to Skaftafell.
Two years later, right in between two Covid-19 waves, I found myself back at this immense, cold lagune, staring at several icebergs gathering not far from shore, the kilometre-wide glacier terminus, from which they’d all originated, in the distant background. Descending from the peaks surrounding this winding river of ice were clouds heavy with water, gathering and turning into a dense and obscuring fog, mirroring the water surface in the foreground, and simplifying the scene in front of me. The many birds on top of the ice were gathering for a free ride to sea while enjoying each other’s company. This was what’d originally drawn me to the place. This was where reality and imagination came together.
To me, only a smooth matt cotton paper does the scene justice. As it also complements the soft pastel tones and smooth gradients of the image extremely well, I went for Canson Infinity Rag Photographique 310 gsm as my paper stock of choice for this print.