At the International Center of Photography (ICP) and the Howard Greenberg Gallery, Edward Burtynsky’s series, The Great Acceleration and Natural Commodities, speak to each other like two chapters of a single visual narrative, finding poetic breathing space in the face of the issues they raise. We are thus invited to look differently at this world shaped by our hands—and by our choices.
The first one, “The Great Acceleration,” curated by David Campany, is the first institutional retrospective of Edward Burtynsky in New York in over 20 years. It brings together over 70 iconic works, some never before seen, and three immense murals, organized thematically rather than chronologically: mining, oil extraction, massive infrastructure, and portraits of workers, including early images from the 1980s. Burtynsky refers to his photographs as “Rorschach tests,” confident that each reveals more about the viewer than about himself. His work, at once sublime and unsettling, suggests that “the ICP has long championed ‘engaged photography,’ which informs and inspires action,” a vision shared by the artist.
A few subway stops away, “Natural Commodities” at the Howard Greenberg Gallery brings together images made between 2022 and 2024. The series illustrates a “continuum—from pristine ecosystems to terrains shaped by human needs.” Natural landscapes—rainforests in Washington State, retreating glaciers, cobalt mining basins in the Democratic Republic of Congo—are shown in their fragile duality: untouched beauty, irreversible transformations. For example, the image Dry Tailings #1 (Kolwezi, DRC, 2024) captures a pile of mine tailings, layers of orange and ochre, reminding us that “70% of the world’s cobalt is mined in the DRC. ”
The series also includes images of fragile North American landscapes: Coast Mountains #20 (Monarch Ice Cap, British Columbia, 2023) shows the lacerated whiteness of a retreating glacier, while Echo Bay #1 (Lake Mead, Nevada, 2023) documents the traces left by the historic decline of the waters. These works function as visual archives as much as warnings. “My daughters will not see the same world that I knew in my lifetime,” says Burtynsky. “These photographs bear witness to a change already underway—irreversible in some cases—and invite us to reflect on the legacy we will leave.”
The two exhibitions are organized as complementary variations: at the ICP, a journey through 45 years of work, driven by critical rigor and panoramic scope; at the Howard Greenberg Gallery, a zoom on recent, dense and visceral images, recalling the race for global energy transition.
The scenographies form visual and moral itineraries. The walls of the ICP offer a multifaceted immersion—monumental panoramas, isolated figures, artistic chronology—where each image retains “equality of value in luminosity and space,” according to the photographer. In the style of Howard Greenberg, the tight order invites a singular contemplation, the discovery of details charged with global issues.
The use of drones, combined with a meticulous assembly of images, produces panoramas of dizzying density. Every detail—veins in the soil, lines of erosion, reflections in the water—becomes readable like text, telling the story of a place and the forces that shaped it. Burtynsky has been deploying this simultaneously analytical and aesthetic perspective for over 40 years, and it is what has made him a highly regarded artist—his work is now included in over 80 major museum collections, from MoMA in New York to the Tate Modern in London.
In Burtynsky’s work, the viewer is confronted with a tension: the striking beauty of a changing world and the invisible cost of this metamorphosis, with the frankness of documentary and the delicacy of poetry. He reminds us that these photographs offer us the opportunity to “appreciate the sublimity that persists in the landscape, while deepening our understanding of the challenges that arise today. “
“The Great Acceleration” is on view at the International Center of Photography in New York through September 28, 2025. “Natural Commodities” is on view at the Howard Greenberg Gallery through September 20, 2025.
