MAINE LAKES, photographs by Christopher Barnes, text by Sarah Stiles Bright, Tilbury House, Gardiner, 2002, 108 pages, hardcover, $40.
Founded in 1999, the Maine Lakes Conservancy Institute, or MLCI, has developed rapidly into a major advocate for the stewardship of the more than 6,000 lakes the state boasts. Like the Island Institute, this organization is focused on a particular element of the state’s ecological landscape. Through research, education and outreach programs, the MLCI seeks to broaden the public’s awareness of these marvelous resources that are often taken for granted or even abused.
Part of that campaign to bring attention to Maine lakes now takes the form of a coffee table book commissioned by Thomas and Melinda Haas to benefit the lake science programs of the MLCI. Like the recently published photographic tribute to the Ducktrap River, this volume heightens our appreciation of the beauty and diversity of a special freshwater habitat.
Maine terrain brings out the best in color photographers, from Eliot Porter to such contemporaries as Sara Gray, Will Richard and Jack Ledbetter. On the evidence of the photos in “Maine Lakes,” Christopher Barnes, a free-lance photographer who lives in Bremen, numbers among the best.
Whether Barnes is capturing an otherworldly sunrise over a frozen lake or the musical notations made by weeds and their reflections in shallows, the quality of the image reflects a perfectionist sensibility. A blue water and sky study resembles an airbrushed color field painting. Aside from a blurred deer and a couple of manipulated shots, we’re talking crystal clear, every image worthy of a calendar.
The photographs are divided into winter solstice, vernal equinox and autumnal equinox. Another section at the back of the book, “The Lakes: Remembered,” features a group of what are mostly photographs of nameless children enjoying a lake. While looking like shots for an L.L. Kids catalog (one is reminded that Barnes makes much of his livelihood from commercial photography), these pictures recall one of the main reasons lakes mean so
much to us: the recreational pleasures they provide.
Sarah Bright’s poetic essay brings to mind the first-person writings of Terry Tempest Williams, especially in the emphasis on the healing qualities of nature. As she circles Munsungan Lake in a floatplane, Bright blends descriptions of what she sees from the air with personal memories: skinny-dipping with a sister, skiing across a frozen pond, burying an infant son. The text could have been just as effective at half the length, with some of the more self-absorbed material-“I am in the water of my mind. It is still and clear, but it moves me fluidly through time” – removed.
A better introduction to this book is relegated to the back, Bright’s “The Lakes: A Future.” Here we learn of the issues that led to the founding of the Maine Lakes Conservancy Institute and the efforts under way to educate and enlighten people to the threats these great bodies of water face. This is important work and should receive top billing.
There are a lot of photography books appearing these days that focus on the waters of the world, from the anthology “Oceans,” edited by Sue Hostetler, to “The Sea,” featuring the photos of Philip Plisson. Certainly these albums serve an important purpose: to represent watery expanses in such a beautiful manner that they instill in the reader a preservation ethic. Yet however helpful beautiful images and words may be, what we may need more at this time are guides to invasive aquatic plants and water quality testing programs in the schools.
One final note: The lakes in the photographs are not identified. This may be a means of protecting them, but in a way it undermines the sense of place the book extols. I live by a lake myself and I enjoy naming it: Echo.
Carl Little is a writer and art critic from Mount Desert Island.
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