Layers of sedimentary rock lean out towards a coastline, disappearing into sand before meeting the water. We are witnessing history: flysch lines in the rock chart some 50 million years of geological time, spanning far beyond the human epoch. But look closer, and signs of humanity dot the landscape. A faded orange traffic cone rests in a crevasse tens of millions of years old, with pieces of red debris scattered nearby. There is concrete, plastic and chicken bones, all of it set to become embedded in the geological record.
Basque Coast #1, UNESCO Geopark, Zumaia, Spain, 2015. Courtesy Nicholas Metivier Gallery, Toronto. Photo by Edward Burtynsky.
The large-format photograph was taken by Edward Burtynsky on Spain?s rugged Basque coast. It is the prelude to the Anthropocene exhibition at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Simultaneously presented at the National Gallery of Canada, the exhibition?together with a film of the same name?is a collaboration between Burtynsky and filmmakers Jennifer Baichwal and Nicholas de Pencier. Anchoring the exhibition, Burtynsky?s photographs convey an unsettling dualism. There is an undeniable splendor in nearly every composition, from the clearcutting of a Malaysian palm oil plantation to a suburban highway in California. Eschewing didacticism, Burtynsky?s vivid colours and sublime scale draw the eye, but it?s the disturbing realities depicted that keep it fixated. Phosphor tailings, algae blooms and concrete seawalls all hint at disaster on a maje...