Yes, I know that Spring is trying to come to Michiana. But as I write this it’s snowing fiercely and I’ve never seen such large snowflakes in my life. Ha, proof that Al Gore is all wet! In any case, I hope you can stop hoping for Spring for an hour or so and instead come to the IUSB library to see an astonishing photo exhibit called “The Last Iceberg” that is bone-chilling cold. It’s by Camille Seaman, and her work is just plain, flat-out amazing. Really, words don’t do justice to the haunting images that she’s created, documenting the changing landscapes in the North and South Poles. I recommend that you first check out her snazzy website—camilleseaman.com—to get a flavor of what she’s achieved in these very cold places. And if her photos don’t knock you out and give you frostbite, then you are very jaded person....or a global warming nut-job.
Now, I had no idea who Camille was when I stumbled upon her work earlier this winter in Washington, D. C., but I sure did once I gazed upon her photographs. I left the exhibit a changed man, which is, I guess, the point of art. I then got it into my head that we here in Michiana had to see these photos too. So, I contacted her and amazingly she agreed to let our little school showcase her work. Let me emphasize one small point: she is not some garden-variety photographer. She’s the real deal. And so here we are, lucky Hoosiers, to have this artist’s vision of a world that is melting all around us.
After you see these photos you will probably wonder what we can do to prevent every single last iceberg from melting away and becoming history. Here, I confess, I have no idea. I’ve heard it all before: lower carbon footprints, drive hybrids, recycle with abandon, hate the oil companies, love to read in the dark, you name it. And you know what: none of this is going to bring back these icebergs or grow new ones or do anything to stop our relentless destruction of the earth, let alone quell the naysayers on global warming. I recently heard on NPR that an iceberg the size of Connecticut just broke apart and is melting away. Now, I’ve been in Connecticut many times and I still can’t wrap my head around this little fun fact. What can possibly be the size of a state? Camille’s photos are very large, but even they aren’t that big. Some of her photos, though, have a science fiction-like quality to them; they just don’t look as if they were taken on our little planet. One of my favorites in this sci-fi genre is of an iceberg that looks a great deal like the Borg spaceship that terrorized Captain Jean Luc Picard on “Star Trek.” So perhaps we need Camille’s surreal imagery to help us understand our world today.
Upon reflection, these photographs got me thinking about the nature of history. I’m sorry to add to your everyday woe, but if I’ve learned anything from studying history it’s that we never learn from the past. We are always reinventing the wheel, always making war, always finding ways to blame others for our own predicaments. We want more, whatever someone else has, whatever is around the bend. And I guess the logic of this wanting is watching icebergs disappear. I imagine that Camille believes her art might spur people to act. Her art is a tonic of sorts from this insatiable desire of wanting. I hope she’s right and that I’m wrong. Anyway, come to IUSB and check out these icebergs. And when you’re up on the fifth floor of the library make sure you look out over the St. Joe River and see the new dorms that are being built with the help of your tax dollars and carbon footprints. These dorms will be a great addition to our university and to our neighborhood. I just hope they built them far enough from the river, because when an iceberg the size of Connecticut melts I have a feeling that everyone is eventually going to get wet.