Conrail Yard, Palmer, Massachusetts 1989

James Welling made this gelatin silver print, Conrail Yard, Palmer, Massachusetts, and it's all about atmosphere and perspective, a world of grey. It's like he's saying, "Hey, let's see what happens when we strip away the color." The texture in this photograph is really interesting. Look at the way the tracks converge, slicing through the landscape like dark, precise lines. Then there’s the soft focus of the trees and houses, almost dissolving into the misty background. It's this contrast between sharp lines and soft forms that gives the image its tension. My eyes are drawn to the little houses perched on the right, like they’re holding on for dear life as the train roars past. Welling’s earlier work played with similar themes of light and shadow, but there’s something about this particular image that feels so grounded, so real. It reminds me a bit of Ed Ruscha’s gas stations, but with a more melancholic touch. Is the work about photography’s capacity for realism, or about the beauty inherent in decay? Maybe it’s both, and maybe it’s neither. That’s the magic of art, isn’t it?