Retezat Mood

I think this image is an interesting and different composition. I do think it works, but it combines a few things that often don't work very well.

The foreground is very bulky but it provides a great deal of information as to the makeup of these mountains. Many times near/far scenes have somewhat irrelevant foregrounds but here it is very relevant to this image and doesn't feel gratuitous. It offers us a lead in with the inferred path in the middle (no visual roadblocks) but also puts up somewhat formidable and impenetrable objects just to our right.

For me there is also a sense of heaviness which I attribute to this foreground, which although it has a lead in to the ridge that can move us back into the image, makes me feel somewhat planted where I am. I think that just how the foreground outweighs the rest of the image adds to this sense of heaviness.

Finally, the orangish tones are a bit heavy as well (but realistic). Jeremy's rendition clarifies these tones--and changes other things as well-- but also changes the sense of the image. I am actually ok with it as it is--heavy is ok if that is what one is after. Maybe another descriptor for the tonality would be "thick". Looking at the images around this one, thick was the word that popped into my head and I think it applies here. It would be interesting to hear about this treatment as most would generally clarify the tones a bit more than we have here or in those other images. In fact, I think both of the redux images presented so far have attempted to do this very thing.

Anyway, it is a somewhat unusual composition/presentation and I do think it works.

As for the Photo of the Week - love it! I think all the previous positive posts have highlighted all the strengths of this magnificent work.

The only weakness I see, disappointments really, are the lack of EXIF data, the location and whether the photo has been altered to the point of manipulation. Sadly, those weaknesses apply to too many photos on PN.

Congratulations Zsolt! Fine job -

Alberta

In the end, it records an image of Earth's beauty with a more than average photographic technique. The very fact that he was there, beholding this scene, adds excitement and visual impact.

I usually don't comment without reading others comments, however I was so struck with the composition of this photograph that I didn't want to be swayed by other peoples thoughts. That strong diagonal across the image with a pathway leading through and into an "S" curve into the middle background is most dramatic. It forms two diagonals crossing for real dramatic presence. Drama exists in the color of the sunlit yellow grasses along the crest of the ridge and in the foreground. A really great shot. Very well presented. An unusual composition but it really works here. Nice! No cropping needed here. Keep it just as is.

Willie The Cropper

wonderful work and a worthy recipient of PoW. Much of Zsolt's work is inspirational in the genre of landscape photography. This image is no different, keeping to minimum editing techniques while maintaining a wonderful scene for the viewer. Sharpness throughout the image is another wonderful aspect here as with many of his scenes

Welcome to Mars.

There is a wildly unearthly quality to this photograph. I think it is exciting. It is dynamic. The ridge comes from the distance right into your face.

I think which way this photographer reads, or whether he reads at all, is relevant. As with the paintings of Cezanne, the landscape grabbed the artist and demanded, "Recreate me this way."

I would do nothing to alter this photograph. From fleece in the clouds to the stones in the foreground this image is as perfect as it can be.

Fred G. is correct, of course. Given the heaviness of the foreground of the photo, I have asked myself at leisure whether it enhances or detracts from the viewing experience.

Before all of that reflection at leisure, I personally had had a great sense of both immediacy and unease upon viewing the photo for the first time. Yes, there was solidity, even safety, in that broad and "heavy" foreground, but just beyond was the knifeblade ridge on the traverse from the foreground peak (upon which the photographer was standing, although not at the top of that peak) to the background peak, some distance away. I have crossed a lot of not-so-dangerous mountains--and mountain ridges--from the Appalachians to the Rockies to the Andes--in my sixty-six yeas, and I did not look at this as just another mountain photo. I saw a knifeblade ridge to be traversed, and I found it distinctly unappetizing. I am a coward when the mountains get too high. I stay away from ridges like that.

The solidity, even heaviness, of the foreground in the photograph did not give me a particular sense of security, even though there is a sense of safety in standing on such a wide mass of rock and dirt as are visible in the foreground. The reason for this, I believe, is that the framing of the photo almost requires the eye to begin the move across the major diagonal, the knifeblade ridge.

So, here I found myself, sitting in the comfort of a recliner browsing Photo.net on my laptop, coming upon a photo that immediately pulled me out of this chair and out of this house and into the wilds of an unknown range, with a distinct sense of "Here I am, and this is the path that must be taken." For me, the framing by the photographer gave an imperative to the viewing of the photo: does one take the ridge or not? Choose. The foreground was solid. I was safe. I did not think more about it. What I saw, and what made me a bit uneasy, was the prospect of having to cross the knifeblade ridge.

Knifeblade ridges are funny things. The Boulevard Trail connecting LeConte to the Appalacian Trail in the Smokies is well-named: it is broad as a boulevard (four or five feet wide, I suppose, which is truly broad by mountaineering standards), even though the ridge drops off sharply on each side. But the Boulevard Trail in the Appalachians is lined with trees, and the drop-offs on both sides of the trail are, well, Appalachian drop-offs, not typically terrifying--with a few exceptions here and there.

The ridge connecting the numerous smaller peaks of Pichincha just west of Quito, Ecuador are large masses of mounds of soil formed from ancient volcanic ash. They are broad and unthreatening. When I lived in Quito, every day they extended the invitation to walk down the street, sprint across the expressway, and immediately go up into the eucalyptus trees that would disappear well short of Pichincha's summit, almost 16,000 feet above the level of the sea. There is no glaciation that far north in the Andes. The mountains go high, but they typically do not have anything approaching a sense of knifeblade ridges connecting the peaks.

But other mountains where glaciation has occured have these knifeblade ridges. The Rockies have them, the southern Andes have them, the Himalayans have them, and the Karakoram have them, among others. I do not recognize the range in this photo. It does not matter. A glaciated knifeblade riidge in summer is, I suppose, a glaciated knifeblade ridge anywhere on the face of the earth; and, where the sun and wind have taken the ice and snow away in summer, they reveal a rocky and perilous path to be walked--or not.

So, to cut a too-long narrative short, especially as it might give a sense that I have had more than vicarious experiences of the worst ranges, I personally could not as easily as some divorce the sense of "this is a photo of a mountain" from the sense of "THIS IS A MOUNTAIN!" Real mountains are not simply to be viewed for solitary hikers and climbers: they require decisions. Does one cross, or does one go back or go down or find another route?

I felt the heaviness, the solidity, of the foreground, but it did not either distract me or comfort me.

All that I could see upon first viewing was that darned knifeblade ridge challenging me, forcing a decision: try it, or go back.

I like pictures that can pull me in like that. Thank you for the wonderful moment, Zsolt, in which I was not merely temporarily viewing a mountain on a computer screen. I was there. It was beautiful, but the prospect of crossing was tangible, real--and terrifying.

I would have declined the invitation. I was a tireless hiker in my youth, but I was never that good a climber.

Again, Zsolt, thank you for the very nice work.

--Lannie

I just made reference in my previous comment to "the major diagonal, the knifeblade ridge."

I understand full well that some may consider that diagonal to be the minor diagonal, with the major diagonal starting from lower left and going up to the upper right. In terms of sheer bulk, yes, the latter is indeed the "major diagonal." But does it hold the eye? No, the eye is pulled across the diagonal of the challenging but also threatening knifeblade ridge to the beautiful mountains and clouds beyond, and this hold upon the viewer--or at least upon this viewer--makes that the "major" diagonal.

I once posted a shot on Photo.net that someone saw immediately as the "double-diagonal," or whatever it is is technically called. It was in my case an accident. Perhaps it figured into my judgment of the beauty of the scene, but, if so, not by any conscious awareness:

http://photo.net/photodb/photo?photo_id=5895106&size=lg

Needless to say, the dramatic impact of the "double diagonal" in my picture does not begin to rival that in Zsolt's photo.

Why the "double diagonal" can have such force is not clear to me. It is not the typical simple convergence of, say, railroad tracks, but it does represent a visual convergence of some sort.

--Lannie

On first impression it remnds me of a paint by numbers for some reason. The scene is beautiful but the composition doesn't impress me for some reason, a large expanse of jagged rock and minimal sky feels claustrophobic even though the scene is expansive. The color makes it seem unrealistic to me but it may be natural, I don't know. On the other hand the photographer has really evocative b&w and other landscapes and also great macros. Congrats to him.

Great to see my home country!

No "of course" about it. Ponder the kōan from Magritte's later painting again, Grasshopper.

This is not a mountain, it is an image of a mountain.

Whatever you-all may mean by 'heaviness' of the photo qua photo, I know that for me its 'heaviness' is appropriate and congruent with the heaviness of the subject matter itself.

If you want to follow this up, I suggest postings at 30 paces in the Philosophy forum. (smek<slap signifying duel challenge ) ;)

The original is superior to all the attempts so far to "improve" it, IMHO

JDM, I have a hand gesture I'd like to offer you, but I won't.

What Fred said :) But by claustrophobic I meant `heavy`and I saw that in the image before I wrote it so no influence from the Fred jfyi.

Thick makes sense to me John. I thought of syrupy at first but cloying (too much of something originally present) occurred to me as a less metaphorical description. JJ

Love the colours. Roger Dean often used these colours in his depictions of fantasy worlds. Zsolt has brought them to us in a more earth-bound piece. Still, the feel of fantasy abounds with the subject matter. Is it of this world or another? Great image, Zsolt.

Jeremy, I think we use these sorts of words to express something personal and it can be futile to argue over them when they aren't objective "technical" terms with well defined meanings. As such, I think I would have understood syrupy if you had used it here although it isn't a word I have used in this context (I might use "syrupy" for something that I felt had a more sweet, candy-like palette or maybe an image that seemed overly sentimental) Back in the 80's, you would here Ansel, Sexton etc use a phrase like "makes the print sing" which means nothing but everything at the same time. These things ring true or they don't, I guess.

The photo is fine but the light and the clouds are exceptional and that makes the difference...Very well done!

Well done!!
Take care,
Mário

Maybe the amount of time spent in the mountains makes a difference in our assessment of how exceptional something is. As someone who does spend a lot of time in these types of places, I would not say that the light is exceptional here. Certainly the clouds are not. In fact, the light in the sky is pretty muddy in comparison to really exceptional mountain light. There are lots of examples of images with exceptional mountain light here on pnet. Michael Anderson, Guy Tal, and Marc Adamus are but a few that have numerous examples of exceptional light images. Other examples not on pnet are Michael Fatali, Galen Rowell and David Muench. Another photographer that shows us what exceptional light is all about is Sebastio Salgado. A different style to those mentioned above but the light is really something.

Just trying to put this image in context. Sometimes we get a little overly excited about the POW. It is a good image, no question, but exceptional is perhaps a little over the top. Best, JJ

I especially like the orange "S" shaped ridge that stops somewhere in a distance and appears again on the peaks on the right side of the image. I find that quite dramatic, which I appreciate and like a lot here. There is also heaviness of that ridge that appears very prominent in the foreground, which slightly distracts (maybe from day-dreaming) due to its voluminosity and the space that occupies in the image.
Kristina

Congrats with the POW Zsolt! You have deserved this attention. This is a very fine and well executed landscape photograph of a (to me) relatively unknown location, which makes this much better than any picture taken of one the iconic monuments ;-)

i love the subject matter.. my only problem here is that i find it cluttered. too maximalistic for my taste. however that is just my taste as i am more of a minimalist. too many layers for me... thanks sam

It's been too many years since I walked in any mountains - maybe that's why I like this photo.
I like the ridgeline leading my eye into the distance - I'm almost walking across it! I like the light and the color. I like the foreground showing me the structure of the rock. I like the sense of height/depth. The two diagonals (the ridge is more of a S-curve) make for a powerful composition.
Mike

This is a very well done photo of a mountain scene. Being a hiker/climber myself, I immediately connect with it. I look at these types of pictures from the point of view of what it would like to be out there and compare it too similar experiences. A person who has never scrambled or climbed a mountain losing a good amount of sweat will not have that perspective, no pun intended. You can look at this picture from a purely esthetic point of view, but doing only that, you miss so much! The composition is conventional but pleasing. It does not try to make a point, other than what it shows directly. The time of day must have been early in the morning or late in the evening, evidenced by warm light striking the slope. The low clouds could be morning fog burning away. The cirrus clouds indicate there might be a change of weather approaching.  The lake in the distance looks like a remnant of a glacier that covered the slope in earlier or ancient times. The shape of the rocks and the wall tell me that it probably is igneous rock. The foreground tells us what to expect hiking here: relatively comfortable, as long a you don't get to close to the edge. We above the tree line here, with just sparse alpine vegetation and lichens on the rock. From the color and the uncompressed state from snow cover, it was likely taken in the fall. The color is a tad exaggerated, but not unrealistic. Mountain twilight colors can be very intense and a raw image will need enhancement. The line of sight leads into the distance, inviting the observer to come along on the ridge. The most tantalizing part is the tiny glimpse of another mountain range or peak in the far distance on the left. That gives the whole scene a great sweep of expansive territory. For me, this picture communicates that feeling of freedom and joy, being outside, alone or with companions, ever grateful for the endless views that we come across. Many of us take photos like this, for no other reason than to remember and share a common event or bond.

As the proportion of darker tones is on the right hand side I feel it is better than the mirrored version. Further it is a tramline picture with a tram of interest at the end of the line.