Heyday Books (2003), $45
In this astonishingly produced collection of giant black-and-white photographs, mostly of the Central Valley's and Sierra foothills' lonely buildings, David Stark Wilson's large-format view camera makes a new issue of the photo's frame. Each image records more than the eye would be able to take in, forcing the viewer to look around within it and giving an impression of massive, echoey spaces. These pictures of barns, silos, packing sheds, and other esoteric structures show a sensitivity that some people reserve for cathedrals or mountains or pyramids. As Wilson readily admits to being a California native in his introduction, that feeling is significant, and points up Californians' lack of the type of dignified, awe-inspiring built spaces that other places often have. But he also sees parallels to the enclosed expanses within the otherwise broad majesty of agricultural spaces, and shows an unusual critical appreciation for vineyards, orchards, and prepared fields, in his words "... the quilted and pleated texture of agriculture laid onto the land." The book's text is a little odd -- how do we feel about someone who takes his 10-year-old on a 50-mile hike? -- but Wilson obviously loves his subjects, and makes a point that can never be made too many times: Beauty often hides in plain sight.
