Slide Show
View Slide Show 19 Photographs

Credit James Whitlow Delano/Redux

Slide Show
View Slide Show 19 Photographs

Credit James Whitlow Delano/Redux

Showcase: A Thirsting Planet

Though James Whitlow Delano has devoted years of his life to photographing the global water crisis, he was not paying much attention to the recent conference on climate change.

It’s not that he didn’t care about what the world’s leaders did in Copenhagen. But he couldn’t follow the negotiations over the earth’s future because he was cut off — virtually incommunicado — working in the Gobi Desert in Inner Mongolia. Lens reached him at an Internet cafe in a small settlement as a sandstorm approached.

“The problem is that you have growing population, greater consumption of water per person and expanding deserts due to global warming,” said Mr. Delano. “There is unprecedented development in desert areas and little or no acknowledgement that water will run out.”

Mr. Delano cites rapidly receding glaciers, the diversion of rivers, the overuse of aquifers that cannot be replenished and the rapid development of semi-arid and desert areas.

It is a complex and subtle issue that Mr. Delano illustrates with dreamlike black-and-white images that drive home the point that water is running out in many places across the world. He puts his photographs of spreading deserts in Morocco, Yemen, China and Mali side by side with photographs of the American West to show that this is not a distant problem and that America is subject to the same laws of nature.

Mr. Delano, 49, remembers growing up “blissfully” unaware in California as water alerts would come and go. It was not until he moved to Japan 16 years ago and started photographing in China that he became concerned about the use of water in the United States.

“The problem became particularly apparent when I began to see remarkable echoes of American history in the development of China with massive dam building, mining, fouled air and the ploughing of the steppe/prairie resulting in a new Chinese dust bowl,” Mr. Delano wrote in an e-mail message.

Carrying a Leica with a 35-millimeter lens, Mr. Delano photographs fast and unobtrusively. He says that photography is part of his D.N.A. “I am moved by light,” he said. “I like to tell stories. There is this need to travel and learn that I have been lucky enough to indulge.”

Mr. Delano has published two books, “Empire: Impressions from China” (2005) and “I Viaggi di Tiziano Terzani” (2008). His work has appeared in The New York Times Magazine, Geo, Newsweek, Mother Jones, Time Asia and Le Monde. His essay on the Kabul Psychiatry and Drug Dependency Hospital won an award in 2008 from the National Press Photographers Association.

Assignments have taken Mr. Delano through Asia, Africa and Europe, but he spends much of his time on personal projects like “Not Enough Water: Conquer the Desert or Live Within Its Limits.”

Though he was not able to closely follow the Copenhagen conference as it unfolded, Mr. Delano has since caught up. And he’s concerned. “Nature does not care about politics,” he said. “I am not sure ‘a statement of intention’ quite got us to where the world needs to be. Let’s put it this way: I am glad I do not live on one of the Pacific atolls like Tuvalu, or in Kiribati, but people whose lives matter do.”

Comments are no longer being accepted.

Dreamlike, yes. Nightmare, likely.

Water resources, even with the population growth at zero, are in peril.

Having hit the link on Mr. Delano’s personal project “Not Enough Water:…..” there is a treasure trove of equally interesting photographs with expanded cutline information.

Lost in the politics of climate change is rhetoric, often loud and obnoxious, from all sides and very few iamges that document this particular issue with such great context and compassion.

No screaming here, but images that give me great pause.

Thanks LENS for this post.

Oh, my G-d. How stunningly beautiful. How terrifying. As someone who lives on the shores of Lake Michigan–and who’s watched that level (and those of all the other Great Lakes) drop over the last several years and NOT recover–I know that water is the great equalizer. States fight us for our water, hoping to divert it to huge population centers, developed beyond their carrying capacity, in the Mid- and Southwest. Water is wasted, routinely, to keep golf courses lush in ARIZONA, for heaven’s sake. What is so horrific is that, given what has not yet happened–and in the face of mountains of evidence–it’s clear that most people would prefer to blissfully ignore this to their deaths and the death of the planet. I understand the urgency to address unemployment and health care, but . . . hello . . . these photographs should be enough to convince you: If your environment degrades, your economy, your standard of living, you HEALTH will degrade as well–and no last-minute Senate bill will be enough to save you.

Fantastic work! May I add that there is a way for us to reverse this thirsty trend,irregardless of how much it has to do with man’s contribution .We can reverse climate chaos by planting trillions of trees.Suficient trees will balance both mother nature and mankind’s climate input.
Yes We Can-plant trees and drink the water they hold or attract;plant trees and eat from their bounty,plant trees and scrub the air;plant trees and provide shelter(and even clothes);plant trees and behold their beauty,and what a beautiful thing we all will have done.

Few of these have to do with a water crisis per se related to global warming. For instance, it is well known that expansion of the Sahara is caused by the 200 year “wobble” of the earth on its axis. Overgrazing and pumping groundwater beyond its known rate of replenishment are causes of scenes shown here as well. His photographs are good, but his knowledge of water use scarcity issues is poor and represents an ideological viewpoint.

Jim from Watkins Glen December 22, 2009 · 10:22 am

Seven days. That’s how long you can live without water. That assumes you don’t drink dirty water and dehydrate even faster from a parasitic disease.

How long can you live without the Internet, or television, or your car? A lot longer than seven days.

I wonder what it will take until we realize that we’re all about 168 hours from the boneyard at any given moment.

Pictures of the Week

View all Pictures of the Week