Photographer Aaron Rothman explores the grandeur of California's Sierra Nevada mountain range through a contemporary environmental perspective in his new book "Sierra," published by The Eriskay Connection. The work reexamines the aesthetic concept of the sublime in light of the ongoing climate crisis, offering a modern interpretation of this classical artistic tradition.
The concept of the sublime has deep roots in art history, traditionally evoking majestic landscapes reminiscent of early 19th-century Romantic paintings. It represents the contradictory feelings of awe and terror that humans experience when confronted with nature's power - what philosopher Edmund Burke defined in 1757 as "delicious terror," distinguishing it from simple beauty. In the United States, this concept quickly became integral to national identity, with the country seeking greatness in nature rather than culture.
American artists from the Hudson River School to painters of the American West used the vast landscapes to embody divine manifestation while affirming the country's uniqueness as a young but "superior" nation blessed by nature. Painter Albert Bierstadt (1830-1902) found this sublime feeling in the Sierra Nevada, depicting the mountain range in majestic glory bathed in radiant light. In photography, Ansel Adams (1902-1984) continued this legacy, capturing the mountain range in images where the landscape's monumentality became an almost mystical experience.
Rothman similarly experiences this mixture of wonder and terror when facing the Sierra Nevada, mountains that have been part of his horizon for as long as he can remember. Though he grew up in the relative flatness of a Midwest suburb, every summer brought him back to his native California, where he would explore the heights. As a teenager learning photography, Ansel Adams became his guide and the Sierra his study ground.
However, in recent years, the terror Rothman feels is no longer connected to the Romantic notion of nature's omnipotence. Instead, it has transformed into anxiety about the natural world's increasing fragility. "Planning a trip there now means thinking about fires: will they be active? Will smoke affect visibility?" Rothman explains. "Each visit sounds like a warning: we observe smoky skies or recently burned areas. The landscape seems increasingly vulnerable."
The book project emerged from Rothman's desire to explore these paradoxical emotions he experiences facing the Sierra Nevada - a new form of the sublime that, while rooted in historical pictorial tradition, has shifted toward very contemporary eco-anxiety. His images are constructed in two phases: contemplation and shooting, often done with a large format camera, followed by digital manipulation as a metaphor for human impact on the environment.
This subtle image work reveals landscapes that appear washed out, as if caught in smoke, or covered with a chromatic veil reminiscent of anthotype aesthetics. Sometimes colors escape reality entirely - skies become saturated with ochre or green while vegetation turns blue or purple. A threatening atmosphere of unknown disaster settles in. This digital work also aims to transform simple representation into experience, as Rothman notes: "I perceive these manipulations the same way memory or cognition would function: when we experience something, our brain processes and reinterprets it."
By playing with the image's materiality, Rothman engages in reflection about our visual relationship with the natural world and how this influences its future. "It's a way of breaking with the idea that photography is simply a neutral recording of what's out there," he explains. "These images show that perception is something active: by looking, understanding, and remembering, we constantly shape the world around us. In this sense, this work involves me - and involves all of us - in how the landscape exists. We participate in its perception and transformation."
This reflection, which has traversed his work for two decades, draws from the American landscape representation tradition, particularly that of the West, whose imagery continues to influence our collective perception of nature today. This dialogue between past and present is embodied even in the book's cover: by adopting the calligraphy from an Albert Bierstadt portfolio, Rothman inscribes his work in the living heritage of landscape imaginaries and makes the sublime a warning about nature's vulnerability.
"Sierra" by Aaron Rothman is published by The Eriskay Collection, measuring 240 x 292 mm with 112 pages in English. The first edition is limited to 800 copies and is available online and in select bookstores.
