October 14, 2003 |
The ORPHANS LIE UPSTAIRS IN THE OLD BANK BUILD- ing on South Main Street -- page upon page of numbered slides, spilling across a light table. In AA1154, a lone climber in a red parka confronts the daunting eastern face of Mt. Whitney, its crevices half-filled with snow. In AA1126, an improbable arch of rough red rock frames a distant view of the high Sierra slopes. In AA0001, snapped in 1973, a far-off climber stands in silhouette atop a rock pinnacle.
August 14, 2002
There are 350,000 photos in the inventory built over the decades by Galen and Barbara Rowell. But mention Galen Rowell and a single shot comes to mind--of a huge rainbow seeming to cast an ethereal light on the hilltop Potala Palace, onetime home of the Dalai Lamas in Lhasa, Tibet. The Sierra Club's Carl Pope said: "He didn't make you wonder how he got that shot. He made you wonder, how did he get that rainbow?" Visitors to the Rowells' gallery in the Eastern Sierra town of Bishop, Calif.
September 12, 2005
Re "How to honor an activist -- one more fight," Opinion, Sept. 8 It's good to know that almost five years after his death, my father, David Brower, continues to stir discussion about the need for parks and wild places. But there are a few points to clarify in David Rains Wallace's piece. PowerBar founder Brian Maxwell, who commissioned the sculpture at the suggestion of climber/photographer Galen Rowell, was more than a "wealthy friend." Both Maxwell and Rowell were longtime admirers and supporters of my father and his work, which was not limited to saving wild places in California.
November 9, 1997 |
COME HELL ON HIGH WATER: A Really Sullen Memoir by Gregory Jaynes (North Point, $23). Boomers are growing old and reflective, and they are filling bookshelves with their memoirs. These books, or at least the good ones, turn out to be our only reliable guides to the shared experience of tallying things up, here at what this big, self-conscious generation optimistically calls midlife. Cinema, TV, magazines help hardly at all with their distorted and narrow depiction of authentic experience.
August 15, 2002 |
Even in a couch-potato culture that worships the twin idols of vicarious experience and virtual reality, it might seem far-fetched to describe photography as "an action sport." But for Galen Rowell, the celebrated nature photographer who died with his wife, Barbara Cushman Rowell, in a plane crash earlier this week, the phrase fit as comfortably as an old pair of hiking boots.The desire to see deeply into nature took the Berkeley-born Rowell far beyond passive spectatorship.