Waumbek
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The Monkmans' new upbeat book about the WMs is out. It has a number of pictures of what the WMs looked like at perhaps their worst (visually at least) just after the logging ravages at the turn of the 20th century compared to what they look like today. I took pictures of the Webster Cliffs Friday and compared to some old pictures I have of that area from c. 1900-1920 and noticed the same thing. The revegetation is quite apparent although I don't know that logging had anything to do with the Webster Cliffs. I'd be curious to know how the WMs stack up environmentally in other respects (e.g., ozone, biodiversity, etc.) to 100 years ago.
From the Laconia Citizen:
"By DARRYL CAUCHON
Staff Writer
The fact that the husband and wife duo Jerry and Marcy Monkman manage to avoid the pitfalls of environmentalist preaching in their latest book, "White Mountain Wilderness,"is what allows them, oddly enough, to make just such a statement.
Sure, the couple sneak in subtle hints of man's destructiveness to the Granite State's most beautiful natural treasure, yet they stay on course in portraying what is rather than what might be if this landscape is overrun by zealous loggers, hunters, developers, even tourists.
The charming photographs and straightforward historical recaps of The Whites, as these professional photographers from Portsmouth like to call them, are as cool and refreshing as a mountain breeze.
This duo's photography skills are first-rate but the images in "White Mountain Wilderness" (University Press of New England) often serve as much more than pleasing eye-candy.
Every picture tells a story and the two simply refuse to paint a bleak picture on the future of New Hampshire's beloved mountains, preferring to see the glass half-full in this 128-page photography/history book.
Instead, they opt for a draw-your-own-conclusions version, primarily through eye-catching, before-and-after photos taken decades apart in various locations.
In a happy twist twist, it is the latter "after" photos that are the feel-good Powershots, the former depicting the sad-but-true swarths of forest destroyed in a matter of days by loggers or fire.
The Monkmans not only include the photos they took over the last 12 to 13 years while working for "Appalachia," the journal of the Appalachia Mountain Club, but offer up, through pictures, a recounting of how mankind has treated these mountains.
This is accomplished by placing photos side-by-side, an old one depicting, say, a mountainside of clear-cut forest from the early 1900s, the other optimistically showing nature reclaiming the same spot 50 or so years later.
"Part of the idea from the start was to tell the story of the wilderness coming back," Jerry Monkman said in a recent interview. "My hope with the book is it will inspire people to appreciate the wilderness and the potential and protection of old growth forests in the future."
One part history lesson, two parts photography book, this sweeping account of The Whites takes the reader on a photographic journey through New Hampshire's most ruggest places, the road truly less traveled. This is much more than a coffee-table book of 112 "aw, that's pretty" photographs — 100 in color — as the Monkmans take it one environmental step for further, serving up a historical bonanza on the White Mountains, which remarkably only began being seriously settled in the 1850s.
While the couple's name might be unfamiliar, their work is probably not, having appeared in numerous books, calendars and magazines, including Backpacker, Outdoor Photographer, National Geographic, Down East, Yankee and Country Journal.
The prospect of creating "White Mountain Wilderness" had been "bubbling up for a number of years," Jerry said, taking shape as he rummaged through countless old photos while working as a photo editor.
To create the images within the book, Jerry said they did more than drive around to parking lots marked "Scenic View," get out of the car, set up a tripod, and shoot. Instead, they hiked, biked, and paddled hundreds of miles of White Mountain trails and rivers, where Jerry said "all of our senses are immersed in the beauty of the White Mountains, that we are best able to understand the essence of the place."
The book is subititled "A Photographic Journey to New Hampshire's Most Rugged Places" and there is a list of where the photos were taken published in the back of the book (as well as some helpful reading suggestions).
The Monkmans are the type of laid-back couple who would feel guilty driving a car up Mount Washington, taking the marked trail up a mountain, or harassing a wild animal just to get a picture of it. They seek a peaceful coexistence with nature rather than a conquering of it.
Naming their daughter Acadia just shows how much they love the outdoors and New England.
"White Mountain Wilderness" shows this as well.
With most logging companies long closed, surprisingly thanks to the efforts of rich tourists visiting the White Mountains grande hotels in the 1930s, readers will actually be taken aback with what they see today where clear cuts existed just 70 short — at least by nature's time clock — years ago. Tourists witnessed woods full of 300-year-old sugar maples and 3-foot thick red spruce being mowed down with impunity, and that spurred the effort to conserve the White Mountains.
There are many photos of majestic landscapes and mountainsides, flowers and rivers, yet somehow the reader never tire of gazing at picture after picture, for most provoke thought as well as visual enjoyment. The diapensia, aplite, azalea and bearberry willow are as eye-pleasing as the alpine ravines, summits, and old growth forests where they make their home in the White Mountains.
Yet these photos often do more, allowing the reader to consider what exists just hours away by car, and how quickly it all can be destroyed. The photos also show the determination of nature to reclaim what man carelessly takes away with the swing of an ax or toss of a lighted cigarette.
The book is also well written. Jerry Monkman chronicles everything from the arrival of Dauby Field, believed to be the first settler to arrive in The Whites in 1642, to man's introduction and impact with saw mills, ski lodges, grande hotels, hikers, hunters, fishermen and growing influx of tourists.
We see the boulder hanging perilously above the Flume, what remains of the old-growth forest, the obligatory flowers, and mountaintop views, and sunsets disappearing over the horizon.
All this is overshadowed by the Monkmans vivid pictorial account of the "rewilding" of The White Mountains, a feel-good story of a wilderness reclaimed in part by man's intervention, but primarily by Mother Nature herself. The pitiful ugliness of the clear-cut mountainsides is a sad tribute to the destructiveness of man, yet the recent pictures taken by the Monkmans portray hope and relief rather than anger and disgust.
One point of note, considering leaf peepers arrive by the thousands each fall, it's amazing how few pictures cover the autumn season. Perhaps the Monkmans considered the spectacular autumn colors to the trees simply too easy a challenge for them, preferring to snap their cameras when the fewest visitors were around.
Who knows, but then again, in the end it makes little difference.
"I'm very happy with it," Jerry said. And the reader will be, too.
The hardcover book retails for $35 is also available online at www.upne.com, by calling 1-800-421-1561 or at local bookstores. The ISBN is 1-58465-404-X."
From the Laconia Citizen:
"By DARRYL CAUCHON
Staff Writer
The fact that the husband and wife duo Jerry and Marcy Monkman manage to avoid the pitfalls of environmentalist preaching in their latest book, "White Mountain Wilderness,"is what allows them, oddly enough, to make just such a statement.
Sure, the couple sneak in subtle hints of man's destructiveness to the Granite State's most beautiful natural treasure, yet they stay on course in portraying what is rather than what might be if this landscape is overrun by zealous loggers, hunters, developers, even tourists.
The charming photographs and straightforward historical recaps of The Whites, as these professional photographers from Portsmouth like to call them, are as cool and refreshing as a mountain breeze.
This duo's photography skills are first-rate but the images in "White Mountain Wilderness" (University Press of New England) often serve as much more than pleasing eye-candy.
Every picture tells a story and the two simply refuse to paint a bleak picture on the future of New Hampshire's beloved mountains, preferring to see the glass half-full in this 128-page photography/history book.
Instead, they opt for a draw-your-own-conclusions version, primarily through eye-catching, before-and-after photos taken decades apart in various locations.
In a happy twist twist, it is the latter "after" photos that are the feel-good Powershots, the former depicting the sad-but-true swarths of forest destroyed in a matter of days by loggers or fire.
The Monkmans not only include the photos they took over the last 12 to 13 years while working for "Appalachia," the journal of the Appalachia Mountain Club, but offer up, through pictures, a recounting of how mankind has treated these mountains.
This is accomplished by placing photos side-by-side, an old one depicting, say, a mountainside of clear-cut forest from the early 1900s, the other optimistically showing nature reclaiming the same spot 50 or so years later.
"Part of the idea from the start was to tell the story of the wilderness coming back," Jerry Monkman said in a recent interview. "My hope with the book is it will inspire people to appreciate the wilderness and the potential and protection of old growth forests in the future."
One part history lesson, two parts photography book, this sweeping account of The Whites takes the reader on a photographic journey through New Hampshire's most ruggest places, the road truly less traveled. This is much more than a coffee-table book of 112 "aw, that's pretty" photographs — 100 in color — as the Monkmans take it one environmental step for further, serving up a historical bonanza on the White Mountains, which remarkably only began being seriously settled in the 1850s.
While the couple's name might be unfamiliar, their work is probably not, having appeared in numerous books, calendars and magazines, including Backpacker, Outdoor Photographer, National Geographic, Down East, Yankee and Country Journal.
The prospect of creating "White Mountain Wilderness" had been "bubbling up for a number of years," Jerry said, taking shape as he rummaged through countless old photos while working as a photo editor.
To create the images within the book, Jerry said they did more than drive around to parking lots marked "Scenic View," get out of the car, set up a tripod, and shoot. Instead, they hiked, biked, and paddled hundreds of miles of White Mountain trails and rivers, where Jerry said "all of our senses are immersed in the beauty of the White Mountains, that we are best able to understand the essence of the place."
The book is subititled "A Photographic Journey to New Hampshire's Most Rugged Places" and there is a list of where the photos were taken published in the back of the book (as well as some helpful reading suggestions).
The Monkmans are the type of laid-back couple who would feel guilty driving a car up Mount Washington, taking the marked trail up a mountain, or harassing a wild animal just to get a picture of it. They seek a peaceful coexistence with nature rather than a conquering of it.
Naming their daughter Acadia just shows how much they love the outdoors and New England.
"White Mountain Wilderness" shows this as well.
With most logging companies long closed, surprisingly thanks to the efforts of rich tourists visiting the White Mountains grande hotels in the 1930s, readers will actually be taken aback with what they see today where clear cuts existed just 70 short — at least by nature's time clock — years ago. Tourists witnessed woods full of 300-year-old sugar maples and 3-foot thick red spruce being mowed down with impunity, and that spurred the effort to conserve the White Mountains.
There are many photos of majestic landscapes and mountainsides, flowers and rivers, yet somehow the reader never tire of gazing at picture after picture, for most provoke thought as well as visual enjoyment. The diapensia, aplite, azalea and bearberry willow are as eye-pleasing as the alpine ravines, summits, and old growth forests where they make their home in the White Mountains.
Yet these photos often do more, allowing the reader to consider what exists just hours away by car, and how quickly it all can be destroyed. The photos also show the determination of nature to reclaim what man carelessly takes away with the swing of an ax or toss of a lighted cigarette.
The book is also well written. Jerry Monkman chronicles everything from the arrival of Dauby Field, believed to be the first settler to arrive in The Whites in 1642, to man's introduction and impact with saw mills, ski lodges, grande hotels, hikers, hunters, fishermen and growing influx of tourists.
We see the boulder hanging perilously above the Flume, what remains of the old-growth forest, the obligatory flowers, and mountaintop views, and sunsets disappearing over the horizon.
All this is overshadowed by the Monkmans vivid pictorial account of the "rewilding" of The White Mountains, a feel-good story of a wilderness reclaimed in part by man's intervention, but primarily by Mother Nature herself. The pitiful ugliness of the clear-cut mountainsides is a sad tribute to the destructiveness of man, yet the recent pictures taken by the Monkmans portray hope and relief rather than anger and disgust.
One point of note, considering leaf peepers arrive by the thousands each fall, it's amazing how few pictures cover the autumn season. Perhaps the Monkmans considered the spectacular autumn colors to the trees simply too easy a challenge for them, preferring to snap their cameras when the fewest visitors were around.
Who knows, but then again, in the end it makes little difference.
"I'm very happy with it," Jerry said. And the reader will be, too.
The hardcover book retails for $35 is also available online at www.upne.com, by calling 1-800-421-1561 or at local bookstores. The ISBN is 1-58465-404-X."
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