Yes, it’s a song and lyric from U2’s The Joshua Tree, and one that lends itself to satire all too easily – think lost car keys or opening the fridge and not finding anything you want to eat…etc.
Of course Bono wrote the song with religion in mind and it has more than a trace of Gospel influence, but the broad appeal lies in it’s ability for personal re-interpretations, which – wisecracking aside – could be generally described as spiritual.
The idea that a photographer never finds the photo they’re looking for is maybe a bit trite, but it’s an interpretation that often holds true and one that allows for the possibility of a deeper meaning both behind and in front of the lens.
Music and photography share some DNA. Composition, pattern, rhythm, texture, tone – an image can strike a chord just as a chord can conjure an image. Both have a mood and both can act as metaphors for human experience.
The black and white photographs that make up The Joshua Tree’s album art feel very consistent with the music. While they serve partly to capture and idolise the band members with their windblown, moody vibes, they also show us the backdrop to the record: a soundscape directly inspired by a tour of American soil and culture.
Landscape photography is classically dominated by the kind of grand, wide-angle views that look like The Joshua Tree sounds, and it’s not difficult to find other examples across different artists and genres of music. To pick three: Rise by Doves, Xpander by Sasha, The Karelia Suite (Intermezzo) by Sibelius. In their different ways, all seem to create a sense of space, grandeur and scale, of being among a greatness or a wildness – not actually the sublime – but a place that allows the mind to escape the labours of life.
Wherever that place is, it can be dramatic or peaceful, surreal or literal, light or dark, close to home or far away. The key to a successful image or piece of music seems to be the ability to first feel something and then express it effectively through the medium. Whatever the feeling and whatever the medium, when it works, it can be cathartic.
Landscape photography often frustrates the desire for that catharsis. The world is not a musical instrument you can play at your whim, it’s more like an enormous chaotic orchestra playing entirely on it’s own terms without any regard for the audience. The melody may be absent, discordant or too subtle: all the right notes, but not necessarily in the right order. And while geography, seasonal patterns and weather forecasts allow opportunities to be sought out, it’s not enough to be present, you also have to be tuned in.
The upside of all this fleeting, tantalising chaos is infinite variety. Whether successful or not, the creative quest is never-ending because the variety of the light and the feeling that goes with it is infinite.
So with photography at least – maybe music too – if you still haven’t found what you’re looking for, you’re probably on the right track.
AT Photo 