Sartore zooms in on the North Slope National Geographic photographer lectures on preservation

Author: Aylie Baker

The sky is heavy with darkness and the trees stand submerged by gauzy mist as several cars trundle into the Dead Creek Wild Life Refuge on Route 17. It's 6:30 a.m. and Middlebury is well-awake. Rendered virtually unrecognizable by their assortment of lumpy, woolen clothing, a group of about 30 students crowd around Joel Sartore in hopes of gleaning some advice from this visual expert. In his photography workshop and lecture, "Oil vs. Wilderness: Selling Alaska's North Slope," delivered on Oct. 12, Joel Sartore imparted much more than technical advice. While perhaps first distinguished by his glib, jovial rhetoric, the message he chose to convey to students was tinged with considerable gravity.

Sartore is a leader in one of the most coveted professions. A photographer for National Geographic, he has spent the last 17 years wending through virtually every conceivable ecosystem - marshland, rainforest, desert, tundra - capturing the natural world through his camera. Yet, he insists, there are caveats in this seemingly blissful existence:

"It's not what you call 'fun.'" Take into account the number of times Sartore has found himself wet, chilled to the bone and tortured by pangs of hunger, and suddenly all the fantastical notions one has about wildlife photography are cast in a more sobering light. It's imperative that one has a type A personality, insists Sartore. The 30 to 40,000 pictures he takes for each story will eventually boil down to 12 to 20 photos in the issue, with only 50 pictures showcased.

Because he hails from Lincoln, Neb. Sartore jokes that he was forced to be innovative in crafting his early photography. Anyone can take pictures of wildlife. Sartore sought to push the envelope, to capture emotion. His early portfolio includes subject matter ranging from rodeos to clams.

As his portfolio grew, it appears that his progression as a photographer was simultaneously mirrored by a mounting awareness of environmental as well as developmental issues. Through photographing endangered species, Sartore has been confronted with some harsh realities.

Why should anyone care about a clam, Sartore asked himself, upon receiving an assignment to photograph mollusks. Indeed, it seemed a particularly dry choice of subject matter for a magazine that is heralded for its avant garde exposés.

"75-80 percent of clams are functionally extinct, threatened or endangered" said Sartore. "50 percent of amphibians are set to disappear in the next ten years." These are "living monitors."

"What happens to them," said Sartore, "Do you think that could happen to us?"

Active preservation and veneration for the natural world seem to be diminishing in the face of industrial expansion and commercial interests. Yet it is in Pantanal, Brazil, the world's largest marshland, insisted Sartore, where veneration is paramount. Perhaps it is here, that we can unearth some environmental solutions. Every niche is brimming with some form of wildlife - caimans, giant otters and hyacinth macaws vie for time at the lens. Locals even contend that "fish rain from the sky." What are the motives behind the preservation of this plush landscape?

"It's loaded because the people of Pantanal are good stewards," said Sartore. As a veritable dream for wildlife photographers, naturalists and tourists, Pantanal is the quintessential example of eco-tourism.

Sartore's most recent assignment, "Selling Alaska's North Slope," draws particular attention to the dichotomy existing between preservation and commercial interest. The North Slope is the largest tract of wilderness in the United States. It also holds roughly 48 billion barrels of oil.

"As I was photographing the slope," Sartore said, "one thing is running through my mind. What is the value of wilderness? Does it have any value - or is the value only in what we can extract from it?"

The oil fields surrounding Prudhoe Bay comprise 16 percent of the country's oil supply, and make up 90 percent of Alaska's state revenue, according to National Geographic. Yet if the U.S. were to tap into Alaska's Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, the fragile ecosystem would likely shatter.

"It is estimated that there are nine months to a year of oil in the North Slope," said Sartore. One year of oil in exchange for the devastation of America's largest wilderness can make one stop and think.

Given what is at stake in Alaska's frontier, Sartore was particularly disheartened to see the lack of responses to his piece by National Geographic readers. The general indifference was "dismaying to me," explained Sartore. "[I] got zero. Nada." It says something about the state of the world "when Jackass is the number one film," he offered, malignantly.

Such indifference triggers a bleak outlook on the Slope's future. Americans are characterized by their "panic, [their] knee-jerk, bombastic tendencies," said Sartore. They "wait until the absolute last second, thinking they can smother [the problem] with money, hoping it will solve all their problems."

"I've done my part," said Sartore, resignedly, "I've told my story." Yet despite such glum desperation with the state of affairs, Sartore ultimately does shed some light on ensuring a positive future for the Slope and preservation in general.

Ultimately it is the "rich, developed countries" that have the potential to make a difference, said Sartore. If we can alleviate human strife and elevate the standard of living, environmental preservation can simultaneously rise in the list of priorities. It is hard to fault someone for poaching or clear-cutting when they are hungry, explains Sartore. How can one point fingers at someone who, upon being asked about spotting a rare animal," replies innocently, "Yes, it was delicious?"

What would assuage his dismay at such apathy?

"I live in Lincoln, Neb. On any home Saturday I hear 80,000 people screaming [at the football game]. I want 80,000 people to scream about the state of affairs," said Sartore. To students, he offered, "Visit some of these places. Read. Study up…Look at things critically. Make up your own mind, go out and vote."

The lecture was sponsored by the Middlebury College Academic Enrichment Fund, the Environmental Studies Program and the Christian A. Johnson Economic Enrichment Fund.