Thoughts on Making Photographs at White Sands National Park

I swear to you, there are divine things more beautiful than words can tell.
―Walt Whitman, “Song of the Open Road”

Like many artists, I came to New Mexico because I had heard about its extraordinary light. On the first morning after my arrival in Santa Fe more than thirty years ago, I remember watching the sun come up over the mountains and wishing that I could collect that magical light in a mason jar. White Sands puts on just as great a light show. From the beautiful color of the predawn light to the almost psychedelic sunsets—in fact throughout the day—the light at White Sands seldom disappoints. And of course, no two days are ever the same. Just as a day could begin with a beautiful sunrise, it might end with a hellacious storm—both beautiful in their own ways. I think Forrest Gump’s remark about life being like a box of chocolates is an apt way to describe the light and the weather at White Sands. You never quite know what you’re going to get until you are there, experiencing it from the top of a gleaming white sand dune.

Photography is a curious art, combining feelings and visual stimuli, emotions and aesthetics, with the science of optics, and in the case of digital photography, the capture and manipulation of pixels. At times, though, the technology can get in the way of making a deep connection with what is being photographed. F/stops, shutter speeds, ISO, lenses, tripods, computer software, and so much more have to be considered to record an image well. But making a great photograph requires more than technology. When I worked for photographer Paul Caponigro years ago, he would talk about working to attain “a state of heart,” a gentle space offering inspirational substance that could purify one’s vision. Paul would often speak about a spirit he called “otherness” that a photograph must have in order to fully engage the viewer. A purely documentary image, no matter how skillfully composed, won’t hold my attention for long.

And so as I hike among the dunes, I work hard to quiet my mind and seek that state of heart, to tune out the distractions of the world in order to connect with a deeper presence that I sense within this landscape of great light. From the first time I encountered it, this kind of raw essence has been my teacher, often whispering guidance on when and where I should train my camera. In the end, I want to create photographs of those evanescent moments that are consonant with what it was like to stand there and witness them.

Excerpt from Into the Great White Sands, photographs by Craig Varjabedian published by the University of New Mexico Press. Book is available autographed on my web site, from Amazon and through your local bookseller.

I teach photography workshops at White Sands and other places through Eloquent Light. See our offerings here.