Yesterday, I was killing time in London in the rain and cold. I was walking past Buckingham Palace when I was attracted by a poster advertisement for the ‘Heart of the Great Alone’ photography exhibition.
Among the greatest achievements in the history of photography, those of the early polar explorers surely stand out for the beauty of their images and the almost impossible conditions they encountered. None of these are more remarkable than the photographs recorded by the official chroniclers of two epic Antarctic expeditions–that of Robert Falcon Scott in 1910 which tragically resulted in his death and, four years later, and that of Ernest Shackleton, whose heroic sea journey from Elephant Island to South Georgia has become the stuff of legend. Their photographers–Herbert George Ponting and Frank Hurley–transported bulky cameras and glass plate negatives across the forbidding polar landscape to record some of the earliest images of this dramatic environment. That the photographs survived to be presented on their return to King George V is miraculous, and they have remained ever since in the Royal Collection.
Herbert George Ponting and Frank Hurley accompanied Scott and Shackleton on their Antarctic expeditions respectively, and were both very different kinds of pioneering photographers. Ponting considered himself an ‘artist’ while Hurley sought to document, however, the images created by both are outstandingly beautiful.
I was thinking about the pains and effort the two men went to create their images. Carrying bulky cameras and glass slides over demanding terrain, working in darkrooms in freezing temperatures, struggling to keep the chemicals warm enough to work, nevermind their hands. It’s no wonder the images become works of art given the time and dedication paid to their composition and production.
On the Shackleton expedition of 1915, and the need to abandon ship with the onslaught of ice, Hurley was given the order to dispose of his glass slides as the men would be unable to transport their heavyweight across the drifting ice on their escape. So Hurley had to choose his best 100 images and lose 400 to the Antarctic wilderness forever. As an editor of his own work, Hurley certainly had his work cut out for him.
After stepping out back into the London streets on my trek back to KIngs Cross, somehow it didn’t feel so cold and wet anymore.
Here are some of my favourite images.
I find this last picture of Scott writing his diaries, particularly moving with the pictures of his young children on the wall behind him.
