Sun
Oct
4
It’s raining today in NYC. I’m sitting on the couch in the soft light of late afternoon, listening to the drizzle. I’ve been thinking a lot about water since I came back to this city about a month ago. Canals, storm drains, decommissioned water towers- infrastructure for controlling water surrounds us in urban environments. And here in New York, we also sit at the apex of many rivers- the Hudson being the most remarkable and well-known of them. A few weeks ago, I googled “Hudson River Watershed” and came up with this image:
I love how the watershed (the area of land drained by the Hudson and its tributaries) has little regard for city limits or state lines. It’s an ancient and ever-changing structure that as humans we participate in, but do not control. This image grabbed me in such a way that I started researching the watershed. I quickly stumbled into a complex web of issues (political, environmental, aesthetic, historical) that are tied to the Hudson, and I was hooked. I’m working on my masters thesis right now, and everything I’ve made so far (drawings, sculptures, sketches) relates to the concept of the watershed and our relationship to it as New Yorkers and city dwellers.
Below: me looking down on the Hudson and the town of Cold Spring. Much more “research” of this kind to follow! (thanks Dan)
Mon
Aug
24
This month has been extremely satisfying. I often spend early mornings out in the dewy forests and meadows of this island, gathering project materials (mostly dead sticks & branches). It’s very quiet, contemplative work, except for the moments when I startle a wild creature, or one startles me (generally a large Dutch hare or a panicked pheasant- they come bursting out of the brush as I move along).
When I have what I need for the day, plus maybe a cup of blackberries for breakfast, I bundle the sticks together and cycle back to camp.
There, in the afternoon, I build…also quiet, contemplative work, punctuated by the occasional difficulty (the sudden snap of a branch that breaks in my face with a loud crack), or the arrival of a curious visitor or a noisy tractor (see below!). All in all, things are very peaceful in my make-shift outdoor studio. At this point, I have just one week to go- by next Saturday everything will complete, and I’ll have to head back to NYC and get my city life on again. Sigh!
Thu
Aug
6
There are swallows everywhere on this island. They swoop and flit from the early morning to past sunset (10:00 pm, currently). There are very few cars on the island but this little fellow managed to collide with one of them, just as I was passing on my bicycle. A friend picked him up and handed him to me. I’ve never held a wild creature so recently deceased. The tiny body was amazingly soft, warm and light; the fragile neck was utterly limp, and I felt I had to support the head with my fingertips to keep it in one piece. Sad, but also terribly beautiful.
Mon
Jul
27
I haven’t forgotten you! I just finished a really amazing week teaching acrylic painting and stick sculpture to an inspired bunch of 10-17 year olds at summer camp. Plus, I got to sleep in a tent under the pines, and saw the best milky way I’ve seen in years. Here’s a shot of some of the paintings the kids came up with…I was trying to teach them about abstraction & alternative painting techniques, and for the most part, they did pretty well with it!
Plus, some images from my little corner of the arts classroom:
Sun
Jun
21
Summer is really here now- today
(in the Northern Hemisphere, anyway) is the Summer solstice, the longest day of the year! I’ll be spending this day of extended sunshine in a land of overwhelming verdure and humidity (I’m visiting a friend in eastern Tennessee, the land of kudzu). I hope to have some decent kudzu photographs later on, but for now, here is my solstice image: the sun overhead, breaking through forest branches to illuminate one of my mass sculptures.
Tue
Jun
9
I couldn’t help but feel quite skeptical when I first heard about photo-journalist Sebastião Salgado’s current project. This article, recently published in the New York Times, has piqued my interest a bit. Known for sociopolitically themed photography that chronicles the plight of the world’s poor and impoverished populations (and often criticized for romanticizing that plight), Salgado has now moved on to landscape.
The 67 year old photographer is midway through an epic 8 year quest to document the most pristine and “natural” landscapes the world has left to offer. The project, dramatically titled “Genesis”, is touted as an exploration of the effects of modern industrial development on the environment. But rather than go the well-known route of Edward Burtynksy and others, Salgado has chosen to document those places he believes have somehow “escaped or recovered from” such effects- this allows him to seek out nature in its most “natural” form. In the four years the project has been underway, he has visited more than 20 locations across 5 continents, including the Galapagos, the remote mountains of Ethiopia, and soon the far reaches of Alaska.
As the Times article describes, “Genesis” is a “grand, romantic back-to-nature project, combining elements of both the literary pastoral and the sublime.” It sounds as though the resulting photographs fall into a lineage carved out by Ansel Adams rather than Robert Capa or Cartier-Bresson. Adams to was an environmentalist at heart, and used his work to promoted his cause, but his dedication to beauty has lead to the cherishing of his work as poster and calendar art. Salgado’s work has always had a haunting beauty, but that beauty is held in check by his frequent portrayal of human suffering. In stepping away from portraying the negative influences of industrialization, Salgado still retains an ambitious attitude and devotion to his cause:
I’m 100 percent sure that alone my photographs would not do anything. But as part of a larger movement, I hope to make a difference. It isn’t true that the planet is lost. We must work hard to preserve it.
Maybe this spirit can push the resulting photographs beyond the romantic or picturesque to a place where they can speak eloquently and effectively about the losses we face if we carry on at our current pace of industrialization.
Salgado’s final goal for “Genesis” is to create 32 visual essays, which would be displayed in major public parks and museums starting in 2012. Here, now is an aspect that particularly intrigues me: It’s my dream to show the work in Central Park, not in some building but outside among the trees. So then would this display be totally public? And what would the effect be? Yes, now my curiosity is piqued, and I’ll be waiting to hear more as 2012 approaches.
Fri
May
22
Following is one of the stranger highlights from our Romania trip. At the end of the Sulina arm of the Danube River Delta, where it meets the Black Sea, we came across a spectacularly forlorn forest of scrubby thorn trees and river-worn garbage:
While the initial impression of the place was one of desolation and waste, this marginal-looking environment was actually humming with life. The trees were festooned with scraps of plastic and tangled cloth and thread, and the ground was littered with mangled plastic bottles, but we saw more wildlife here in a few hours than in much of the rest of the trip. We startled feral wild horses with young colts, and snakes, lizards, turtles and frogs slipped away from us as we walked . We watched a muskrat swimming in the river, an ermine peered at us from the brush, and we heard the incessant buzz of birds and insects. Raptors and crows were dueling in the air overhead, and bee eaters and wagtails were plentiful. The images below were taken by Dan:
Sat
May
16
We are just back from a really special vacation/research trip to the Danube Delta in Romania. More pictures and thoughts from the trip to come! In the meantime, I’m immersed in installing my show here at DeFKa in Assen, the Netherlands. It opens tomorrow! Here is a bit of a preview, of the installation process:
Tue
Apr
28
I’m currently a little bit transfixed by the photography of Kenyan born Dutch artist Elspeth Diederix. A friend at Frank Mohr jotted her name down on a piece of scrap paper for me, telling me that her images were curious, a little strange, that I might like them. And indeed I do. She seems to be documenting through photography some of the phenomena I’m attempting to capture by building objects. She has a show up this month at Museum Jan Cunen, in the south of the Netherlands. I wish I could see it, but it’s a long journey (for Holland, anyway) and I’m short on time as my visit here winds down. Below are a few of my favorite images, ripped from her site. They display a mix of ecological detail and ever-present human influence blended with suggestions of the supernatural. This combination intrigues me.
below are: verdwaalde lente, buttercups, azalea, agrifolio, holly
