Romanticized Doom - La Palma Eruption Site 2023

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Romanticized Doom
The latest volcanic eruption of the Canary Islands in-between romanticization and shock

There is a remarkably tangible contradiction in the romanticization of nature and the savage process of its formation at the current volcanic eruption site of the Canary Islands.

The view of the Tajogaite volcano sitting in state above one's heads at La Palmas Cumbre Vieja Ridge is impressive but terrifying. Raw, gigantic, colorful. Present and eye catching, the fascination pulls me under its spell. I'm looking for ways to get closer and explore every inch. It’s rooted in awe and admiration for its force and origin. History in another scale. History of the Earth. History of Moons and Planets in the Solar System. Similar to the mythology of comets, gods and constellations - ancient stories about volcanoes made their way into evolving human culture. The Aboriginal Gunditjmara story about Budj Bim might be the oldest ever told - 37,000 Years. During the eruption at La Palma, the ejected material had been the youngest of our planet. A natural process - loud, powerful and universal.

Journalists and Photographers crowded along the roads of the Aridane Valley to get the best view of the fire spitting vents that opened up dangerously at the inhabited area. Tourists came and went. Media attention is good, at least it brings money! At least for someone. Solidarity rises. Meanwhile, you can watch the eruption 24/7 live online, several camera angles, dogs barking in the background. A great spectacle.

Beyond all admiration and apart from photogenic Imagery, down the valley, people are suffering and traumatized. Destroyed villages are left by a surreal, dark scenery. Several streams of lava made their way across plantations and farmland. Tacande, Todoque, El Paraiso, La Laguna, El Pedregal, Las Manchas. In comparison, the devastation by lava is slow and silent. A few meters per hour, but yet an inevitable doom. It’s raining ashes that meter high - houses disappear and roofs collapse, shielded from general attention. The landscape turns black. Along the eruption zone, all roads became dead-ends. One sees partly destroyed and spared houses, a catastrophe in slow-motion, petrified in the end. Random testimonies of vivid communities remain. Affected people seemed surprisingly open, taking my interest serious. Signs and barriers become a little-noticed decoration. Still, photography feels obscene.

To visualize that contrast is to visualize my feelings about it. Fascination versus shock - the range of emotions sweeps me off my feet. The Paradise succumbs to the curse of its own creation. Yet again. The helplessness ends up in superstition and belief. A life in contrast of knowing and believing, data and prayers, studies and hope. We are just observers. A look into its volcanic past contemporaneously is a look into its future.

The Cumbre Vieja as a timeline revealing how historical eruption sites evolved. Permanently transforming, wearing, overflowing. Volcán San Martín, San Antonio, El Charco, San Juan, Teneguia. Every look is like a quick peek through the keyhole, a fossilized snapshot. A memory of the future.

La Palma, 2023