Sometimes artists manage to come in under the wire, their digital footprint missing, their work impossible to find online. Reviews, thoughts, biogs and statements absent. Noah Wilson is one such artist. His incredible photographs from ‘A Lonely Hunter’ not picked up, discussed and written about. I find it extraordinary that more people aren’t talking online about these pictures. They’re a wonderful evocation of a desolate frozen landscape, a land of wolves and bears, of mountains, trees and frozen rivers, a dangerous place into which man treads carefully.
These photographs look like film stills taken from a documentary. Each image a slow exposure, time given over to capturing movement in a landscape that seems timeless and still. The action all the more violent because of its distance, otherness, the canvas a wild natural landscape that holds us in our dreams and incubates our fantasies. There is a visceral horror in these images, bloodied wolves, bears attacking walruses and fires burning through forests of pine. There is no mercy. Death part of everyday life. Immediate. Certain.
And while these pictures are relatively recent the only statement I can find from Wilson is a text from 2006. It’s still relevant, his work still following the same course. HIs pictures straddling the line between an unseen past and an uncertain future, a place that faces both fear and fascination. Here’s what he said:
I’m motivated by uncertainty because it offers so many possibilities and interpretations; however, it is also something that I fear, deeply. Accepting uncertainty means losing control over a belief or a wish; it always proves difficult to accept, but change allows for new potential. In my work, I try to illustrate a feeling of tension and anxiety that’s related to this feeling of not knowing – not knowing the answer. I use symbols that I collect and connect together to create a new context and open up new interpretations.
My images all draw from personal questions and curiosities; however, I don’t ask that they offer any certain conclusions. I prefer that they remain connected to a hazy, obfuscated sense of sight. I use these photographs to describe what I cannot explain—to try to articulate what, for me, may never have an answer.