Into the Anthropocene
In 2016, those who determine such things officially agreed the Earth had entered a new Epoch in its evolutionary age. Termed the Anthropocene, it is defined as human-influenced, where our activity has caused irreversible changes to land, oceans, and air. Anthropocene supplants the Holocene that began at the end of the last ice age about 11,000 years ago. Our new Earth Age is the starting point for this body of work that explores vast man-altered landscapes. I am both concerned and curious how repercussions from our rapidly expanding world need for Agriculture, Energy, and Water, impact our planet and ultimately us.
Agriculture - The Palouse
To begin my exploration, I traveled to the Palouse grasslands - now wheat fields - of eastern Washington to immerse myself in a landscape terraformed and overlaid by commerce since before the dawn of the Anthropocene (actual starting point TBD). By highlighting this region, I bring attention to difficult choices we face when considering exploitation or preservation of ecosystems.
The topography of the region is embellished by pattern and design across its surface - all byproducts of efficient farming required by constraints of the rolling terrain. It seemed a visual dance - or was it a struggle - between human imposed order and natural growth cycles, an imposition and collaboration at the same time. What was revealed I found compelling - strangely alien but completely human. By allowing human intervention to speak over the landscape itself in my images, I imagine a new landscape more of its Age.
Energy - Ivanpah Thermal Solar Plant
Coming over the rise through Nipton California, on Highway 164 into the Ivanpah Valley, the Ivanpah Thermal Solar Power Plant came into view. Like a vision from Tolkien's Mordor, three towers, glowing ominously, rise above the surrounding desert on a gentle slope. The towers are surrounded on all sides by mirror arrays, known as heliostats, that reflect the sunlight onto the central towers.
It is not an easy thing to make the desert here look small, but at 35,000 acres on leased BLM land, the sprawling plant caused a disorienting effect on my senses as my mind struggled to fit it into proper scale. It is the largest solar plant of its kind in the world and generates 377-megawats that provide electricity to 140,000 homes. I was interested in exploring the effect this large facility had on my perception of the natural landscape. As world populations and demand for energy increase, formerly untouched natural landscapes and ecosystems will continue to be disturbed or destroyed.
Energy - Bisbee/Asarco Pit Mines
Wanting to experience the effect on the landscape of pit mining in the U.S., I traveled to two mines in Arizona. The Lavender pit mine, located in Bisbee, was opened in 1950 and abandoned in 1974, while the Asarco (American Smelting and Refining company) Mission pit mine near Green Valley is a modern, in-production operation.
Comparing the two show that even after nearly 40 years of abandonment, little visual difference was evident. The previously sharply terraced edges of Lavender’s rock faces and roadways seemed blurred now compared to those at the modern Asarco mine. Erosional forces slowly acting on the bare exposed rock faces have blended colorful minerals on their journey to the tailing pool.
At Asarco’s Mission mine, high water demands are consuming 85% of the aquifer supplied water in the Upper Santa Cruz Valley, leading to its steady decline. In 2007, a Pima County report stated that “Water supplies will become critical within the next ten years”. This unsustainable consumption rate is now being mitigated by pumping water from the Central Arizona Project. It was estimated that it would require a pipe diameter of 72” to convey enough water for direct use or to recharge the Upper Basin. As of 2017 one 36” CAP pipeline had been completed, with a second slated to be completed later in the year. But, because capacity scales with cross-sectional area, not with diameter, the two pipeline provide only half the capacity of a single 72” pipe.
Energy - Oildale Oilfield/Palm Springs Windmil
The Kern River Oil Field covers an area of 10,750 acres in a rough oval extending over the low hills north-northeast of Bakersfield - hills which are now almost completely barren except for oil rigs, drilling pads and associated equipment. Oil was first discovered here1899 in one large pool and was named for the river that runs through it. Two smaller pools, the Vedder and Jewett, were later discovered in 1981 and 1985 respectively.
While most of the oil has been removed, modern extraction methods such as Fracking have made it possible to remove oil previously deemed too costly. Total estimated reserves of the Kern field at the end of 2006 totaled more than 475 million barrels - about 15% of California’s reserve.
Wastewater from the field was once allowed to drain directly into the streams dissecting the region, and then into the Kern River. This practice ended in the 1960s and 1970s when more stringent environmental regulations were enacted both on federal and state levels. Wastewater now is treated in facilities specifically built for this purpose, and after the treatment, is used to irrigate crops in the San Joaquin Valley.
Water - Owens Lake
It seems when talking about modern water demands, expressing it as an absence of water might be most effective. What happens to the land when the water dries up?
Owens Lake is a mostly dry lake in the Owens Valley on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada in Inyo County, California. It is about 5 miles south of Lone Pine, California.
Even before Los Angeles Department of Water and Power began diverting streams feeding Owens Lake to their customers in Los Angeles, valley farmers had already diverted a majority of the Owens River’s tributaries flow, causing the lake level to drop marginally each year. This was greatly accelerated when in 1913, LADWP began diverting runoff to the Los Angeles Aqueduct. By 1926 the lake was dry. As the water level dropped, the highly toxic alkali lakebed was exposed, and high winds created massive alkali dust storms that carry four million tons of dust from the lakebed each year.
As of 2013, it was the largest single source of dust pollution in the United States. Dust mitigation measures over time, have reduced their severity, but health problems throughout the valley persist.
Water - Lake Mead and Lake Powell
In the western United States, water availability is under severe threat. Rising temperatures, prolonged droughts, decreasing snowpack and over allocation of storage for human consumption, have significantly reduced water supplies in major reservoirs like Lake Mead and Lake Powell, which rely heavily on the Colorado River. The river’s flow has declined by about 20% over the past century and lake levels dwindled to about 27% of capacity between 2019-22. Scientists attribute a significant portion of this drop to climate-driven changes. Warmer temperatures cause snow to melt earlier and faster, disrupting the natural storage that snowpack provides to rivers and reservoirs.
As snow levels shrink, there’s less water to feed streams, rivers, and groundwater, leading to water shortages for cities, agriculture, and ecosystems. This situation is exacerbated by increased evaporation from hotter conditions, further reducing available water. Municipalities across states such as Arizona, Nevada, and California have had to impose water restrictions and rethink water use in farming, which consumes a substantial portion of the region’s water.
Efforts to adapt include implementing stricter water conservation measures, investing in sustainable infrastructure, and exploring alternative water sources like desalination. However, without a concerted focus on reducing greenhouse gas emissions, the worsening effects of climate change will likely continue to strain water supplies in the western U.S.