A great respect for the barn

David Froden has always been a visionary photographer. Many of his impressive black-and-white photographs commemorate subjects such as steam engines, steel mills, steamships, truss bridges, etc. that are striking not only for their size but also for their precarious state. Now, Plowden, 68, is focusing on another impressive American icon, though he retained his austere majesty in the movie "The Barn," when he When he began photographing agricultural buildings in Vermont in the early 1960s, he was haunted by the feeling that he was one step ahead of them. "The interstates started changing the landscape and the culture, and it became clear to me that traditional family farms were going out," he recalls. Nationwide, the number of farms has increased from more than 6 million half a century ago. dropped sharply to about one-third of today's level. Farms and farm equipment are much larger than they used to be, and as a result, most of the older buildings that once defined our rural landscape have become obsolete. In Wisconsin, Iowa, and some other states, preservationists are working to save them (Smithsonian, August 1989), but too many have long since succumbed to abandonment, abandonment, and destruction player's ball.

Spent a few weeks in mid-Michigan in the mid-1970s. "At that time, that part of the state was full of beautiful barns that were in use. They were everywhere. Only one of the buildings I photographed today is still on a working farm. The others were abandoned.

No wonder Proden’s enthusiasm for barns is tinged with regret: “There is such a touching elegance in their simplicity. ". "This is the beauty of the world. A barn is a sign of pride for the person who built it.

When we lose one, we lose a part of our history, a part of ourselves