Gunnar Smoliansky’s studies of trees are social journalism in photographic form, although not from the human world in spite of their occasional traces of humanity. No, people appear to have left the scene. Smoliansky’s depictions of trees are a forestry ranger’s nightmare and at the same time far too vulnerable to please the zealous conservationist. These photographs are about a type of vegetation that may once have been both magnificent and dignified – what remains of growth is both frustrated and defiant. They are not romantic pictures of virgin woods. No, instead they are places that have been consigned to oblivion, pre- or post-profitability.