Mountains can measure an individual.
Climbing one is a test of endurance, physical and psychological. Muscles cramp, breathing become more difficult and every step becomes an exercise in motivation and gumption. Foresight is also a prerequisite. Awareness of the altitude and weather ahead, rationing supplies and knowing where to rest and for how long are all vital. One wrong move or decision can be catastrophic, if not fatal.
But Omar Al Gurg’s exhibition Everyman’s Mountain is not so much a story about man against nature. His photographs do document his experiences in hiking Mount Kilimanjaro – a six-day trek in 2021 – but it is more nuanced than that. The exhibition, running at Lawrie Shabibi until September, is a love letter to the mountain in Tanzania, its scale and biodiversity, as well as its human presence, which, as Al Gurg says in the exhibition’s literature, feels simultaneously impactful and insignificant.
Mount Kilimanjaro is a benchmark for many climbers. It is high enough to be challenging but still accessible, as it doesn’t need any technical skills or ropes. It isn’t as brisk a climb as Mount Fuji nor as arduous as the peaks in Nepal or the K2 that looms between Pakistan and China. Mount Kilimanjaro stands in the middle of a climber’s ambition, leaning towards the more accessible-side of the spectrum.
It is perhaps from this characteristic that the exhibition draws its title: Everyman’s Mountain. Al Gurg’s photographs communicate the scale, might and mystery of Kilimanjaro well, especially to those who have never braved Africa's highest mountain. Their composition also highlights Al Gurg’s keen sensibilities as a photographer, even though the Emirati artist is perhaps best known for his work as a designer and founder of the studio Modu Method.
In one photograph, colossal tree trunks, wrapped in velvety lichen, curve centre-frame, serving as an arched doorway to Kilimajaro’s depth, its green wilderness emerging from an eternal mist. In another, Al Gurg tilts his lens upwards, showing how the endlessness extends vertically as well.
Al Gurg also spotlights the porters who support the mountain’s hikers, often outnumbering them. There are photographs that show them hoisting large satchel bags on their backs and over their heads. Another photograph captures the silhouette of a man through the sheer tent and is another point towards Al Gurg’s tableaux-esque framing.
These examples are particularly riveting in that they highlight the human activity on the mountain, showing the place of our species within its ecosystem. There is also a subtext to consider. Between the scars of forest fires and the shrinking ice caps of the mountain, Al Gurg’s images prod us to reckon with the more adverse sides of the human impact on the mountain. The photographs convey a stark desolation when seen beside the more lush shots of the mountain.
The works are materially interesting as well. Printed on cotton rag and pinned framelessly to the walls, the photographs impart a texture and organic quality that well compliments what they depict.
Al Gurg’s fascination with Mount Kilimanjaro and its symbolism does not wrap up with Everyman’s Mountain. The artist is only “marking the beginning” of his drive to document its changing landscape, the exhibition’s literature reads.
“Everyman’s Mountainis not about conquest but about process: the act of seeing, appreciating and bearing witness,” it says.
The ethos is evident in the works within the exhibition, communicating a perspective of reverence towards the mountain, while also gently alluding to our part in protecting its grandeur.
Everyman's Mountain is running at Lawrie Shabibi until September 12
