AS THE BLUE FADES
Artist David Rosenthal shares the evolution of local glaciers
Story by Nik Cramblit
Photos by Rhys Marshall, Denise Silfee, and Haley Justus
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In the deafening stillness of a glacier, small windows of time remains for those who witness to reflect and embrace the moment. In between the hikes and the conversation amongst friends and fellow onlookers, there’s silence. It rolls over you like a wave in an icy-blue expanse.
Given that thousands of years have crafted these magnificent ice formations and it seems thousands of years more before they are unmade, a sense of mortality might be felt as one contemplates, “They have been here before me and they will exist long after I am gone.” Reality, however, paints a different picture for us as the glaciers of Alaska continue to regress into the mountains and glacial lakes now lie where ice once stood.
For Cordova artist David Rosenthal, painting this new picture is something he never imagined he would spend the majority of his life doing. From originally drawing scenic views from his home back in Waterville, Maine, with pen and paper, to beautifully crafting the Antarctic tundra and Alaskan glaciers with oil and canvas, Rosenthal finds joy and purpose in painting at the end of the Ice Age. Working only from memory and sketches, Rosenthal attributes his background in science and his understanding of how the world functions to his work, “When you study physics, you learn that the world makes sense. There are reasons behind things and science is the basis of my artwork.”
One of the interesting methods that Rosenthal applies to his work is the emphasis on drawing what he sees and working from those drawings and memory as he paints on canvas. Making the most of his childhood habit of drawing, he finds himself capable of quickly capturing a scene to be painted later without having to rely on technology or light or any particular necessity. His ability to see how the world works coupled with his skill in sketching and strong memory coalesce into beautiful oil paintings down the line.
One of the advantages, he recalls, is when working in minus 60 degrees Fahrenheit weather ink and paper are far easier to use than oil or water color which freeze and turn to crayon in the frigid temperatures. He also finds it easier than having to tug around heavy and bulky camera equipment which would be a hassle in and of itself, not to mention that batteries die and camera shutters freeze in such cold temperatures . The ability to pack only the essentials and writing utensils with his sketchbook(s) creates a unique situation where he can capture what few others can with relative ease. Rosenthal’s biography shows he’s practiced this approach for decades. Stints in Antarctica and Greenland as a National Science Foundation artist-in-residence underscored his relationship with ice and form.
He offers that criticism of his work comes with questions like “Why would you choose to paint when you can take such accurate photos now?” or “Painting is so subjective, why not choose an objective field such as still photography?” Rosenthal simply replies, “My paintings are more real than photos because they show how a human being sees the world.”
He goes on to describe a scene for example, of a sunset behind mountains, and what that means for a photographer versus a painter. For photography, you would have to set the exposure to the sunset in order to capture all the brilliant oranges and yellows and reds, but in doing so you make the mountains silhouette and that is not what we as people see when looking at this scene. In contrast, if you expose to the light of the mountains, you lose the saturation of the sky and it becomes overexposed. For this reason, Rosenthal believes, cameras are still inadequate in capturing what really exists in the world. Despite the huge advancements in still photography technology, it is yet to be able to grab everything we see as people.
Rosenthal could never get into the contemporary or mainstream art or photographic styles as a younger artist, despite its popularity. As an artist of realism, Rosenthal’s love for nature is an objective truth and in his words, “My work expresses how I feel about nature perfectly.”
Though there is no scientific debate about climate change, there is a small, vocal cohort of climate deniers based in political and economic perspective. Yet the reality of denying climate science becomes an issue in the social media landscape. For many there can be a hopelessness or a lack of belief that we can do anything to resolve the problems surfacing due to climate change. This phenomenon is known as Climate Grief, and it acts as a barrier for addressing the issues we face. Why try to solve an impossible problem?
When asked if he has ever experienced a sense of Climate Grief, Rosenthal pauses and reflects before responding.
“Yeah definitely. I love cold weather and winters, that’s why I migrated to Alaska and the arctic regions, but living in Cordova you could say it’s ‘grief.’ Seeing things warm up, seeing glaciers disappear. And the only reason why I don’t feel [hopeless] is because I’ve gotten older. I’m not going to see the worst of it. But when I think of the younger generations, [they’re] going to miss out on so much of this,” gesturing to the mountainside behind him, “and from my standpoint it is a tragedy.”
Aside from painting, Rosenthal spends a lot of effort investing time and care into developing art exhibits that emphasize the importance of science in his work. Though he had studied physics in his undergraduate studies at Colby College, he would later opt for an interdisciplinary degree at the University of Maine. Every produced work is a culmination of experience in the scientific world, be it from an artist in residence position of a scientific expedition or as a supporting role, Rosenthal applies the knowledge gained to create purposeful work that transcends ordinary science communication.
Rosenthal’s art is the expression of emotion and empathy towards climate change. Coupled with science as the foundation of the scene and the importance it plays in the natural world, the blue canvases are testimony. For the last forty-plus years, Rosenthal has slowly but intentionally documented the end of the last Ice Age with every stroke of his brush and every line of ink. He battles time, as do the glaciers he so loves. Will they outlast him, or will the final bit of the deep-blue ice fade from Earth’s canvas?
"His ability to see how the world works coupled with his skill in sketching and strong memory coalesce into beautiful oil paintings down the line."
"Rosenthal’s art is the expression of emotion and empathy towards climate change. Coupled with science as the foundation of the scene and the importance it plays in the natural world, the blue canvases are testimony."
In the deafening stillness of a glacier, small windows of time remains for those who witness to reflect and embrace the moment. In between the hikes and the conversation amongst friends and fellow onlookers, there’s silence. It rolls over you like a wave in an icy-blue expanse.
Given that thousands of years have crafted these magnificent ice formations and it seems thousands of years more before they are unmade, a sense of mortality might be felt as one contemplates, “They have been here before me and they will exist long after I am gone.” Reality, however, paints a different picture for us as the glaciers of Alaska continue to regress into the mountains and glacial lakes now lie where ice once stood.
For Cordova artist David Rosenthal, painting this new picture is something he never imagined he would spend the majority of his life doing. From originally drawing scenic views from his home back in Waterville, Maine, with pen and paper, to beautifully crafting the Antarctic tundra and Alaskan glaciers with oil and canvas, Rosenthal finds joy and purpose in painting at the end of the Ice Age. Working only from memory and sketches, Rosenthal attributes his background in science and his understanding of how the world functions to his work, “When you study physics, you learn that the world makes sense. There are reasons behind things and science is the basis of my artwork.”
One of the interesting methods that Rosenthal applies to his work is the emphasis on drawing what he sees and working from those drawings and memory as he paints on canvas. Making the most of his childhood habit of drawing, he finds himself capable of quickly capturing a scene to be painted later without having to rely on technology or light or any particular necessity. His ability to see how the world works coupled with his skill in sketching and strong memory coalesce into beautiful oil paintings down the line.
One of the advantages, he recalls, is when working in minus 60 degrees Fahrenheit weather ink and paper are far easier to use than oil or water color which freeze and turn to crayon in the frigid temperatures. He also finds it easier than having to tug around heavy and bulky camera equipment which would be a hassle in and of itself, not to mention that batteries die and camera shutters freeze in such cold temperatures . The ability to pack only the essentials and writing utensils with his sketchbook(s) creates a unique situation where he can capture what few others can with relative ease. Rosenthal’s biography shows he’s practiced this approach for decades. Stints in Antarctica and Greenland as a National Science Foundation artist-in-residence underscored his relationship with ice and form.
He offers that criticism of his work comes with questions like “Why would you choose to paint when you can take such accurate photos now?” or “Painting is so subjective, why not choose an objective field such as still photography?” Rosenthal simply replies, “My paintings are more real than photos because they show how a human being sees the world.”
He goes on to describe a scene for example, of a sunset behind mountains, and what that means for a photographer versus a painter. For photography, you would have to set the exposure to the sunset in order to capture all the brilliant oranges and yellows and reds, but in doing so you make the mountains silhouette and that is not what we as people see when looking at this scene. In contrast, if you expose to the light of the mountains, you lose the saturation of the sky and it becomes overexposed. For this reason, Rosenthal believes, cameras are still inadequate in capturing what really exists in the world. Despite the huge advancements in still photography technology, it is yet to be able to grab everything we see as people.
Rosenthal could never get into the contemporary or mainstream art or photographic styles as a younger artist, despite its popularity. As an artist of realism, Rosenthal’s love for nature is an objective truth and in his words, “My work expresses how I feel about nature perfectly.”
Though there is no scientific debate about climate change, there is a small, vocal cohort of climate deniers based in political and economic perspective. Yet the reality of denying climate science becomes an issue in the social media landscape. For many there can be a hopelessness or a lack of belief that we can do anything to resolve the problems surfacing due to climate change. This phenomenon is known as Climate Grief, and it acts as a barrier for addressing the issues we face. Why try to solve an impossible problem?
When asked if he has ever experienced a sense of Climate Grief, Rosenthal pauses and reflects before responding.
“Yeah definitely. I love cold weather and winters, that’s why I migrated to Alaska and the arctic regions, but living in Cordova you could say it’s ‘grief.’ Seeing things warm up, seeing glaciers disappear. And the only reason why I don’t feel [hopeless] is because I’ve gotten older. I’m not going to see the worst of it. But when I think of the younger generations, [they’re] going to miss out on so much of this,” gesturing to the mountainside behind him, “and from my standpoint it is a tragedy.”
Aside from painting, Rosenthal spends a lot of effort investing time and care into developing art exhibits that emphasize the importance of science in his work. Though he had studied physics in his undergraduate studies at Colby College, he would later opt for an interdisciplinary degree at the University of Maine. Every produced work is a culmination of experience in the scientific world, be it from an artist in residence position of a scientific expedition or as a supporting role, Rosenthal applies the knowledge gained to create purposeful work that transcends ordinary science communication.
Rosenthal’s art is the expression of emotion and empathy towards climate change. Coupled with science as the foundation of the scene and the importance it plays in the natural world, the blue canvases are testimony. For the last forty-plus years, Rosenthal has slowly but intentionally documented the end of the last Ice Age with every stroke of his brush and every line of ink. He battles time, as do the glaciers he so loves. Will they outlast him, or will the final bit of the deep-blue ice fade from Earth’s canvas?