There is something about manufactured landscapes that I find disturbingly compelling. They are usually striking, often beautiful, and – more often than not – toxic. Almost no matter what was there before; it was healthier before the transformation. Two of my favorite photographers often shoot manufactured landscapes. Edward Burtynsky often – actually, usually – shoots beautiful photographs of awful places:

Richard Misrach rarely shoots a pure landscape, usually his landscapes show the impact left by man. 

One of his latest series is (are?) huge – like 60" x 60" – pictures of people on a beach. 

In the mid-60's, there was a movie, Blowup, about a photographer in which the opening scene was all about admiring gorgeous pictures of homeless men. The point was to show the shallowness of the photographer; but it is what photographers try to do – take gorgeous or striking pictures. Pictures with with impact.

The Napa Valley is softer and less toxic than anything either of the masters might photograph; but it's wall to wall manufactured landscape qualifies as striking for me.

The valley floor is vineyards, as far as the eye can see. Punctuated by windmills operating in reverse – using power to move the wind. Protecting the vines from frost just like in the orange groves 50 years ago in Southern California.

In the background are the mountains (or hills if you prefer) kept at bay. Nature behind the trip wire.

I am not a big fan of golf and specifically Golf Courses. Golf courses are basically a mono-culture of grass maintained with a lot of chemicals and water. They are a very artificial environment that only looks natural – especially in California which is naturally a dry landscape. There are times, though, – late evening, say – when they can be magical.

OK…rains. California is one of those unusual places (there are others – the Succulent Karoo – isn't that a great name – in South Africa , the Mediterranean Sahara, parts of the Chilean coast to name some I know ) that have winter rains. That means winter is the growing season and summer is the dormant season. Winter is when the hills are green and summer is when they are straw brown or, as we like to say, golden. Having lived here my whole life, it seems normal, but I have been assured that it isn't.

Anyway, we had a huge (5") rain a couple of weeks ago and a light rain yesterday, so, in the grasslands around the Bay Area, all the natives are starting to come back to life. The first thing to show is the grass that is starting to peak through last year's dead grass.

I love the summers in California but late in the fall, when and if the rains come, the hills have a vibrancy and lushness – it is a time of coming back to life.

(I am sure that the following applies to men as well as women; but that is not where my attention naturally focuses, so I will keep this post about the women.)

Where ever I have been, there are striking, spectacular women. And in every case I can think of, the women knew it. It is not that these women are more beautiful – they aren't – but they are more attractive. In some strange way, they are more attractive because they are willing to be more attractive. Willing to be seen. Willing to strut.
In some places, like Rome, all the women seem to fall into that category, in other places, like China, most don't.

It is not what they wear, it is how they wear it. I remember watching a beautiful Norteamericana, in Guatemala, try on a huipil that was worn by a striking, young Guatemalan woman. The Norteamericana looked ridiculous but I know why she wanted to try on the huipil – it looked so great on the Guatemalan.

 
But knowing all of this did not prepare me for the photo essay by Hans Silvester of the Surma and Mursi people in Ethiopia. Using mud, leaves, seed pods, and other natural adornments, the women look like they should be on a catwalk.

The slide show, below, shows both men and women (or, boys and girls) and it is hard to always tell which is which. The show starts slow but by image 14, or so, I was hooked.  As Joe Bob used to say "Check it out."Tribus de L'OMO / Hans Silvester