David Yarrow
The Train Robbery
Archival Pigment Print
Large (framed): 71x107
Standard (framed): 52x76
Ed of 12
Standard (framed): 52x76
Ed of 12
The scale of this photograph showcases the grandeur of the American West. This land of deep canyons and imposing mountains played host to many stories of both human endeavour and...
The scale of this photograph showcases the grandeur of the American West. This land of deep canyons and imposing mountains played host to many stories of both human endeavour and wanton violence in the 19th century. The Push West was a treacherous and loosely governed crusade that will always offer material for storytellers.
For many years 19th-century steam trains have taken up generous space in the creative mood boards that dance around in my mind. The steam and smoke they emit deliver energy to a photograph as well as offering historical guidance. The iron horse was an integral part of life in the final frontier and we often make use of the celebrated one that still operates high up in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado.
We are fully committed to our craft and always want to push boundaries and refine what we do. Sometimes we have been handicapped in our train storytelling by the lack of space either side of the single-line train track. In the deep canyons of Colorado, there tends to be no room to build a wider story with outlaws and bandits. We know one spot that works in the deep winter, but we are too ambitious to keep going back there; we want to stay fresh in all that we do.
But some homework led me to part of the track that sits at 9,300 feet and consequently is only reachable in the summer. The most basic timber deck takes the steam train over a wide but shallow river that sits just 5 feet below the track. There were no arches or trusses to clutter the frame and I recognised what a great opportunity this gave my camera. The river and the bridge were as one and that allowed the river to come into play in my layers. Had the river been 20 feet below, as is normally the case, there would be no picture.
To ride those horses through the river toward the engine with that amount of noise and steam is a task for only the strongest of cowboys but our bases were loaded and we brought only the very best up to Silverton that morning. A horse’s instinct would be to run as far as possible from the train.
We live in an era starved of awe and I hope that this single frame sparks that missing wonder in some. It is certainly up there for me.
For many years 19th-century steam trains have taken up generous space in the creative mood boards that dance around in my mind. The steam and smoke they emit deliver energy to a photograph as well as offering historical guidance. The iron horse was an integral part of life in the final frontier and we often make use of the celebrated one that still operates high up in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado.
We are fully committed to our craft and always want to push boundaries and refine what we do. Sometimes we have been handicapped in our train storytelling by the lack of space either side of the single-line train track. In the deep canyons of Colorado, there tends to be no room to build a wider story with outlaws and bandits. We know one spot that works in the deep winter, but we are too ambitious to keep going back there; we want to stay fresh in all that we do.
But some homework led me to part of the track that sits at 9,300 feet and consequently is only reachable in the summer. The most basic timber deck takes the steam train over a wide but shallow river that sits just 5 feet below the track. There were no arches or trusses to clutter the frame and I recognised what a great opportunity this gave my camera. The river and the bridge were as one and that allowed the river to come into play in my layers. Had the river been 20 feet below, as is normally the case, there would be no picture.
To ride those horses through the river toward the engine with that amount of noise and steam is a task for only the strongest of cowboys but our bases were loaded and we brought only the very best up to Silverton that morning. A horse’s instinct would be to run as far as possible from the train.
We live in an era starved of awe and I hope that this single frame sparks that missing wonder in some. It is certainly up there for me.