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In Katrina's Wake: Portraits of Loss from an Unnatural Disaster
While many may argue whether the devastation of hurricane Katrina was the direct or indirect result of global warming, infrastructural neglect, inadequate preparation, or an incompetent governmental response, nobody will deny the heartbreak it wrought, the homes, businesses, and history washed away, the landscape uprooted, or the lives lost. Renowned photographer Chris Jordan went on assignmenthis ownto capture the tragedy of the aftermath of this, the greatest natural disaster in the history of the United States. In Katrina's Wake, his series of 50 photographs, layer, the horror of ruin with the uncanny beauty of nature, even in its most savage incarnation. His images show how the remnants of a placefrom Mardi Gras beads to church pews, from computer stations to swing setsrecall the essence of a place. Essays by Bill McKibben, Elizabeth Royte, and Susan Zakin explore the causes and effects of global warming, noting that we are all responsible for the future of our planet.
A portion of the profits from the sale of this book will be donated to organizations dedicated to rebuilding New Orleans.
A portion of the profits from the sale of this book will be donated to organizations dedicated to rebuilding New Orleans.
- GenresPhotographyNonfiction
96 pages, Hardcover
First published August 3, 2006
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
September 23, 2022
Katrina is a catastrophe that has affected us all, and that we each may be accountable for in some incremental measure. It has illuminated our interconnectedness, and has made the magnitude of our responsibility to each other, and to our planet, ever more difficult to deny.
From Preface by Chris Jordan
Chris Jordan’s photographs in In Katrina’s Wake: Portraits of Loss from An Unnatural Disaster are stunning and provocative. As a Louisiana resident who has also cleaned up yards (too many in recent times) in the wake of hurricanes, I attest the desolate scenes of scattered and collected debris are gut-wrenching yet strangely mesmerizing. Jordan’s talents as a photographer and visual artist are welcome. His photographs resonate. Whether or not he altered the landscape to ensure a more provocative photograph is irrelevant: He captures the wake. I’m glad he traveled all the way from Seattle.
Why three stars? The essays. Bill McKibben uses his moment on a soapbox to cast a pox on those infernal industrial carbon dioxide molecules he blames for the destruction of a city. He presents nothing new or exciting about climate change that hasn’t been more eloquently argued elsewhere. Susan Zakin casts herself an “outsider native” of New Orleans; no, she’s not a native, but she’s lived here once (could have been two years, maybe three weeks—she’s not specific) and she is attending “carnival” and interviewing geologists “down the bayou.” As a native Louisianian, her essay is offensive and needlessly demeaning. She blames oil exploration and corporate greed for the disaster, but ends with this description of then New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin during a Mardi Gras parade:
The Mississippi Valley State College Marching Band is wowing the crowd in their white and silver fringed outfits. The girls are breathtaking, ordinary school girls who are, each one, extraordinary. The head majorette, a tall, rangy girl, dances like a goddess. “Do it!” shouts Ray Nagin from behind his podium. Nagin’s gaze follows her up the street and I imagine what might be running through his head, that mixture of lust and pure aliveness.
Really? A white woman “imagines” that a black man like Mayor Nagin must be looking at the majorette with “lust.” For the record, Goodreads—she does not speak on the behalf of my state. Zakin’s essay reeks of ignorance about New Orleans and southeast Louisiana. Were there no Louisiana writers—like Richard Campanella, for instance—who could have contributed something as substantial as the photographs?
My advice: Treat this book like a Playboy: Stare at the imagery and don’t bother reading the articles. It’s a much better experience that way.
From Preface by Chris Jordan
Chris Jordan’s photographs in In Katrina’s Wake: Portraits of Loss from An Unnatural Disaster are stunning and provocative. As a Louisiana resident who has also cleaned up yards (too many in recent times) in the wake of hurricanes, I attest the desolate scenes of scattered and collected debris are gut-wrenching yet strangely mesmerizing. Jordan’s talents as a photographer and visual artist are welcome. His photographs resonate. Whether or not he altered the landscape to ensure a more provocative photograph is irrelevant: He captures the wake. I’m glad he traveled all the way from Seattle.
Why three stars? The essays. Bill McKibben uses his moment on a soapbox to cast a pox on those infernal industrial carbon dioxide molecules he blames for the destruction of a city. He presents nothing new or exciting about climate change that hasn’t been more eloquently argued elsewhere. Susan Zakin casts herself an “outsider native” of New Orleans; no, she’s not a native, but she’s lived here once (could have been two years, maybe three weeks—she’s not specific) and she is attending “carnival” and interviewing geologists “down the bayou.” As a native Louisianian, her essay is offensive and needlessly demeaning. She blames oil exploration and corporate greed for the disaster, but ends with this description of then New Orleans mayor Ray Nagin during a Mardi Gras parade:
The Mississippi Valley State College Marching Band is wowing the crowd in their white and silver fringed outfits. The girls are breathtaking, ordinary school girls who are, each one, extraordinary. The head majorette, a tall, rangy girl, dances like a goddess. “Do it!” shouts Ray Nagin from behind his podium. Nagin’s gaze follows her up the street and I imagine what might be running through his head, that mixture of lust and pure aliveness.
Really? A white woman “imagines” that a black man like Mayor Nagin must be looking at the majorette with “lust.” For the record, Goodreads—she does not speak on the behalf of my state. Zakin’s essay reeks of ignorance about New Orleans and southeast Louisiana. Were there no Louisiana writers—like Richard Campanella, for instance—who could have contributed something as substantial as the photographs?
My advice: Treat this book like a Playboy: Stare at the imagery and don’t bother reading the articles. It’s a much better experience that way.
September 6, 2023
Too many blank pages. What a waste of paper!
The contrast between the yellow paper and the gray text is really hurting my eyes.
The contrast between the yellow paper and the gray text is really hurting my eyes.
March 24, 2017
Nature.....yikes
September 12, 2009
Each highly-detailed photograph takes the viewer to one small piece of the overall devastation of Katrina. The beauty of the color and composition underscore rather than distract from the sadness and tragedy conveyed in each photo. The essays are excellent.
September 15, 2007
Large format images from after the storm. Jordan's got a sensitive, judicious eye. Some of the images seem unreal, as though they were photographed on some other planet. Skip the text.
May 28, 2008
Last week I checked out a whole bunch of "coffee table" books from the library- lots of photos, little text. I've had fun looking at them. This one is amazing.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews