100 Books Like Reconstructing the View

I love a writer who is willing to put his life at risk to solve a mystery. And I love history and biography. The mystery? What happened to Glen and Bessie Hyde, a young couple who vanished on their honeymoon while trying to run the length of the canyon in 1928 in a scow—a boat that looked like a water trough.

Dimock, a Grand Canyon guide and builder of wooden dories, researched this type of craft and, together with his wife, braved the rapids because he thought this would provide clues about the disappearance. Having rowed unwieldy baggage boats in the canyon myself, I emphasized with their plight, and the story of the honeymooners is one guides often tell the clients sitting in camp chairs in the after-dinner circle.  

This book covers the most famous canoe trip of them all: John Wesley Powell's courageous exploration through the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River. No one knew what the Grand Canyon was like; no one had ever run it, and no one even knew where it ended. What I particularly liked about the book is the way it is written, a genuine thriller, and as a reader, I am right there in the boats with Powell and his small crew, most of whom had never been in a boat before…to say nothing of the most dangerous water in America. Another big plus is that the narrative draws on the diaries of three of the members, so I am reading the complaints and hardships from several sources. 

Rather, miraculously, they built their own boats and then plunged into the "unknown." Major Powell took the lead boat, and the fact that he… show more.

I once dislocated a shoulder while crossing the canyon’s Thunder River raging with snowmelt; another time, I got lost on the Paria Plateau, separated from my pack, and spent a miserable night in a tee-shirt and shorts while thunder and lightning scared the Bejesus out of me. So, these tales of death and disaster compiled by two canyon veterans cut close to the bone.

They’re not depressing reading, surprisingly. There are accounts of amazing survival, and much can be learned from these cases to avoid getting yourself into trouble. Not something most readers will read cover to cover, but I did and dip into it still on occasion.

I love the artwork: funny, pictograph-style vignettes of the different ways you can die in the canyon (many more than you’d think). 

Having attempted my own Grand Canyon thru-hike, on the largely trail-less north side of the Colorado River, I have walked in Fletcher’s shoes, metaphorically speaking. Mine started to come apart—with their soles delaminating—on day 1; before the end of day 40, I had to have a replacement pair brought in. Those pinched, and I lost toenails.

Beyond the minutiae of long-distance backpacking, the Welsh author of this classic of outdoor literature makes plenty of room for contemplation. At the end of a long, hot, hard, blistering day, I, too, spent many an hour perched on the rim, with a glimpse of the river far below, pondering my role in the grand scheme of things. Then it was always on to supper, which never has tasted better.

On Photography is Sontag’s attempt to develop the thought of Barthes, Benjamin, and others and apply the resultant perspective to the critical understanding of the fundamental role of photography in modern life. The book is constructed as a series of interconnected essays, each of which explores the moral and dialectical character of photographic interventions. Photography embodies the moral ambiguity of human activity: the camera claims to deliver truth but is essentially selective and partial; photography reveals and conceals the real; the photograph is an artificial mode of representation but claims to provide a `picture’ of life that can only be captured through the camera.

This ambiguous ontology of the image impacts upon both the act of image-making and the interpretive task of reading and understanding the image. With modern photography the viewer is constituted in a dual movement of separation (and alienation) and connectivity (and communality). Photographic engagement constitutes, so… show more.

From my school days, Ernst Haas’ photography has been a source of inspiration and exasperation, even intimidation.

Creation is his crowning glory, not only for the peerless elegance of his images, but also for his masterclass in pacing and book design. I love the boldness of a double-page spread with nothing but an arc of light.

I love the quiet studies in which not a blade of grass or minute drop of water is misplaced. It inspired my journey in photography before I even owned a camera, and right now I can shiver from an immersion in its magisterial vision.

The Yangtze River is only how outsiders know it: to Chinese it is simply ‘Changjiang’ or ‘Long River’. Flowing through the heart of the country from the Tibetan Plateau to Shanghai it is central to the lives and imagination of countless generations of Chinese. Kander, better known for his advertising and commercial work, brings a sedate and contemplative approach to this huge subject. The silt-laden river and the smoggy air around it present a challenge to any photographer as shapes and shadows melt into the yellow and grey. Here they provide a palette of otherworldly views, anchored by careful placement of the human elements we can identify with.

As a photography critic for The New York Times, Grundberg was present when a generation of artists began to take apart the photographic image and transform its meaning in society. He wrote about post-modern practice in the present tense, as it was happening. This book is a collection of his reviews and essays from the 1980s when the medium was at a crossroads; the factual veracity of photography was enduring challenges at every turn and the valuation of the photograph as an art object was under critical scrutiny.

I think that Brad has an amazing photographer's eye.

Using drones, he has created a unique book of photographs of swimming pools from above. This could have been a mundane subject, but in Brad’s hands, each photo is perfectly framed, sized, and cropped to reveal geometry you would not expect, reminiscent of a colorful abstract painting. What I like about his work is how he can look at a pool and find the perfect abstract detail: a sinuous curve, geometric lines, and rectangles, little bits of pool furniture, blue sparkling water combined in a way that no one else would have seen. 

In 2015, Shantrelle P. Lewis curated Dandy Lion at the Museum of Contemporary Photography in Chicago. This book is about that exhibition, the photographs displayed, and the stories of the people photographed.

It is, for me, a gorgeous example of fashion’s relation to our individual and social identities. It is a way of touring the intimate as well as the political through images of the Black Dandy. Colors, cuts, sartorial details, and poses all come together in a book that is as informative to read as it is a pleasure to look at.