Monday, August 17, 2009

Vanishing Point


The preceding entry features a photo of a grim urban street receding to what is known as a "vanishing point" in terms of artistic perception. Perhaps the best known early example of this technique can be found in Myndert Hobbema's 1689 "Avenue at Middelharnis," a large canvas that immediately draws the eye down the avenue as soon as one enters the room in which the painting is hung in London's National Gallery.

Forty five years have passed since I first entered the room in which the 40 3/4" x 55 1/2" (103.5 x 141 cm) canvas held pride of place, and I can see it in my mind's eye as clearly as if it were yesterday that I saw it, so strong was its impact.

What I saw yesterday is pictured above, beneath the Hobbema painting. This is an avenue of poplars in Mendoza province, where poplars abound both as windbreaks and for their value as lumber.

This particular view lies along Route 146 between Goudge and Monte Comán in the San Rafael "Department" (similar to a county). Sunday, Aug 16th, was the village feast day in Monte Comán, so things were jumping when I arrived at "La Vaca" a little after one p.m. As promised, here is a photo of this delightful little roadside oasis.

When the rush subsided, I had a chat with Manolo (the owner) about the Catacombs project, mentioning that the San Rafael Department seemed a good possibility for Catacombers, based on the fertility of the land, the prices I'd seen in La Veloz, a local classified ad sheet, and proximity to San Rafael city, a pleasant place with a small town feel in spite of its recent growth spurt. Manolo is a lifelong resident of the area and La Vaca is a Monte Comán landmark, so his collaboration with the project is most welcome.

When will northern hemisphere residents begin to consider that the vanishing point for the old paradigm has nearly been reached? What will it take? Must the stock market collapse? How many banks need to fail before panic sets in? What kind of damage might a drought do to food production? What would fuel shortages mean to distribution systems? How many new and oppressive laws must be passed before travel is restricted, capital export controlled, housing and nearly every other aspect of life become so highly regulated that freedoms which have been taken for granted themselves reach the vanishing point?

The northern hemisphere nations as constituted fifty years ago are no more, at least not with respect to the sort of societies they were. Those simpler, sounder societies have passed the vanishing point and disappeared into the mists of time and the memories of those of us who have survived to become elders. But a new societal vanishing point has appeared on the horizon, and what lies beyond it does not bear close contemplation.

Harsh weather in Patagonia led me to postpone my trip to the monastery and the surrounding area, but I am quite pleased with the preliminary findings in the San Rafael area, particularly with respect to the area between San Rafael and Monte Comán, an area in which in addition to truck crops for the home vegetable larder, it is possible to grow olives, grapes and a considerable variety of fruit trees, which in good years can yield profits of "a Hilux (the popular Toyota 4 x 4 pickup truck) or two," in the words of a San Rafael farmer.

The area is certainly not overpopulated! While driving the 220 km (137.5 miles) between Monte Comán and San Luis, I saw 14 vehicles: four trucks, nine cars and a motorcycle. I also saw come right down to the edge of the road a pair of peccaries, but before I could stop and get the camera out, they'd scurried away back into the underbrush.

While opportunities for the good life may be approaching the vanishing point in the northern hemisphere, down here in Catacombs country they seem to be making an appearance.