Entering The Zone by Chipka
Close
Hover over top left image to zoom.
Click anywhere to exit.
Members remain the original copyright holder in all their materials here at Renderosity. Use of any of their material inconsistent with the terms and conditions set forth is prohibited and is considered an infringement of the copyrights of the respective holders unless specially stated otherwise.
Description
Click HERE to listen.
In leaving my place of employment, I was struck by the quality of light wafting down from a nearly-cloudless sky. I decided to walk around. I was in search of a bridge. I saw it. I photographed it, I met a trio of visitors from London, but before any of that, I stepped (for only a short time) into something of the world as depicted in Andrei Tarkovsky’s brilliant meditation on a number of intertwined philosophical and psychological themes. Tarkovsky’s cinematic, meditational, science fiction masterpiece, Stalker is one of the most stirring pieces of art I’ve ever encountered; and for a short time, today, I understood what it must take to be a Stalker, to have both the ability and the desire to cross from the mundane world into The Zone, and eventually into The Room. A Stalker, as I understand the occupation, must possess the desire and skill to be a Stalker, as the laws of “normal” reality collapse within The Zone, and the very nature of The Room grants one’s profoundest, innermost desires. As a Stalker, one’s external life must match the internal life one seldom acknowledges, and all of this struck me as I followed a set of dead train tracks into the dripping maw of a viaduct clogged with snow-drifts, slush, and strange, protean gnarls of rusted industrial offal. I was alone: I had no one to stalk for. I hadn’t yet met the English people, and so—alone—I followed nothing in particular until I was given a moment profound and unexpected stillness.
I didn’t know one could come to the border of The Zone through a viaduct in Chicago. I didn’t know that light in Chicago could do the things that light did in the rusty, slushy darkness of an industrial hollow filled with grotty stuff. Were I Tarkovsky’s Stalker, I might have been befriended by a mysterious black dog…or I might have a wife and a crippled, telekinetic daughter back home. I’m not Tarkovsky’s titular Stalker, however, and yet…for about 20 minutes, I knew something about the life and the work of such a person.
I pulled out my camera and snapped a few shots. The images I captured don’t compare (in any way) to Tarkovsky’s cryptic masterpieces, and yet there seems to be a mood in common with such visuals, and after taking shot after shot, I simply stood staring at a diminishing line of footprints while wondering if they belonged to mere Chicagoans, or to other Stalkers, guiding sullen, desperate visitors into The Zone, The Room, and eventually into the sometimes-monstrous fulfillment of their One desire. In looking at a blurry number of footprints edging a snowdrift, I wondered what unseen and unseeable paths might lead from a viaduct in Chicago into the sense-violating strangeness of The Zone.
*
It seems that I’m not the only one influenced by Tarkovsky’s Stalker; reality itself has taken note. Seven years after Stalker was released, the nuclear meltdown at Chernobyl led to the depopulation of the surrounding area, now officially known as The Zone of Alienation. Those employed to take care of the abandoned remains of the power plant have taken to calling themselves “Stalkers.” Tours of Chernobyl are offered, and the guides to such carefully-monitored excursions also refer to themselves as Stalkers. I don’t think that an industrial under-realm in Chicago actually leads to Chernobyl’s Zone of Alienation…but if it did, then perhaps that might explain the presence of a few very strange birds in the area.
As always, thank you for viewing, reading, and commenting, and I hope you’re all having a great week.
Comments (15)
Faemike55
Very cool image and gripping narrative
jendellas
Very interesting, l would have had to have left footprints in the snow. X
KatesFriend
I checked out the music link. It befits this empty place who's purpose is not forgotten by most who might briefly observe it. Though I expect it is a piece of the city which the city maintains in an auto reflexive kind of way. but the city no longer knows why. Like an appendix. One wonders what this place once was before it was decided it was cheaper to just let nature have it back. There's a strong feel of transit in this place. A sense that this place once greeted many souls every day. And it looks seriously wind swept, a hallmark of any respectable piece of transit infrastructure - the wind tunnel effect. Toronto has them and I expect Chicago thought of them too. Maybe this is an abandoned streetcar platform. Thus the tracks, which were not worthwhile to remove when the rest of the system was torn up. Maybe both streetcars and buses converged here. The suburban buses taking people further from the city after being brought out of the core via the trams. Before the city decided it was more efficient - yeah, good call there - to let the buses handle everything. Then the platform was closed and people stopped coming.
kgb224
Superb capture my friend. God bless.
giulband
The image iz very very suggestive!! It make me think a path to a better world !!
durleybeachbum
A compelling image and and another engrossing ramble through you mind!
Djavad
I invite you to read an "other" entry in the Zone : "Confiteor" writer : Jaume Cabre
anahata.c
To me, Tarkovsky's "Stalker" is one of the great works of the last century. (His "Mirror" and "Andrei Rublev" are close-by, for me.) And you've always been kin to Tarkovsky, in your ability to find transcendent zones pretty much wherever you go. I claim they're not there, where I live; but I know if you stalked my area, you'd find them many times. I don't know the locale of this shot, but it's very familiar, as Chicago has all kinds of tunnels and passageways that few inhabit, and which seem the mythic underbelly of a huge metropolis. I've seen places 'like' this, at least. And tracks---Chicago being one of the rail-centers of the world, in another age---seem to sneak under the radar here, I mean all over this city. You've caught those rogue (stalker) tracks here, as a path to a place of transcendence. The shot has your characteristic inner-glow reds, and deep shadows (Tarkovsky would approve), and a light not only at the end---whited out, mysterious---but leeching in at the top-right, and from the front of the image too...with gold tinges all over the footpath. (People walked this tunnel!) Wonderfully, our word "stalk" comes from the same root as "steal," someone stealing normal reality away, and revealing something underneath. Of course the common meaning is intrusive and creepy, even dangerous; but Tarkovsky's meaning is much deeper---intruding through the walls of normality and revealing a deep place beyond. A zone. And yes, that Room in the film is filled with memory, myth, yearning, loss and an unspoken redemption. It's just a room, of course, old and dripping with water if I recall; but it feels like all memory is soaked into its walls. (With a dog resting on the wet floor---right?---and maybe even a phone ringing. I hope I'm not mixing this with another Tarkovsky film---but it doesn't matter, because Tarkovsky's visions saturate all his films.) This tunnel of yours is from the same world. It's beautiful. A word on guts, which you have lots of in your work: Tarkovsky, after the scene with the main character and his wife (don't remember names!), takes you into the most amazing train sequence in all of film. All dark, in deep cavernous sheds with dripping water---he loved dripping water!---and that terrifying huge engine in the background and the feeling of being stalked at every turn; and then, god almighty the guy had the fortitude to shoot, like, 10 minutes of those men on a train, just sitting on an open car on a train, with nothing but the men and that background, clickety-clacking in away, and nothing else. No words even, if I recall: just men on a train, lost in deep memory. The moment just spreads-out into eternity. And in the room---where nothing happens---you get the feeling people have come through there for ages, each finding his/her own deep past, just by lingering there a short while. That image fits many of your tales too, because several of your characters emerge out of dark places, places of inexplicables and mystery, then they have deep moments of intimacy, love and tenderness, which your image above whispers, despite its lonely appearance. It ultimately glows. A beautiful image with light at the end; and a beautiful evocation of Tarkovsky's vision as well. Terrific upload, Chip.
auntietk
Mark said, " ... and a light not only at the end---whited out, mysterious---but leeching in at the top-right, and from the front of the image too...with gold tinges all over the footpath ..." Which is the thing that struck me the most about this image. The light is wonderful and mysterious. I like it that the shadows from the posts could be shadows from the posts or from a long, straight depression in the snow. The light is so flat that we only have our logic to discern what's what. A terrific image!
pauldeleu
Excellent image!
MrsRatbag
I love this. For all the reasons that Mark and Tara said, and because it has a whole lot of magic in it, magic that you were fortunate enough to witness and capture. I LOVE this!
CoreyBlack
Oh my God! This is a great photo. And you know an agnostic has to be impressed when he brings god into things. This is quite possibly one of the best (and you've made a lot of amazing photos)shots you've ever taken! I'm so impressed by this that I just keep staring at it. It seems to be calling to me. what an amazing picture. A definite favorite! Wowser!
icerian
You have good eye for the Beauty in our every day Reality.
JuliSonne
This location seems to be have forgotten. But if you listen closely, you can hear how much life here nor there. You're a man of quiet sounds. But also these quiet sounds can be very impressive and sustainable ....and the glaring light at the end reminds me of the statements of people with near death experiences ..... And the circle closes. Life is everywhere!
jmb007
belle photo