Reflections on Earth Art

Overall, this honors module has been a great opportunity to allow my creativity (as well as that of my peers/classmates) to shine. It has opened my eyes to many new horizons and facets of art, other than just paintings and sculpture. It has allowed me to see and analyze beauty in even the most obscure or minuscule things.

Before this class, I thought that Earth Art was confined to phallic (lol) and cliched landmarks such as the Grand Canyon. Although these can be considered as natural Earth Art, they are not what make this genre unique. I think that Earth art explores the relationship between man and earth. It thrives upon our manipulation of the world around us; yet, in many cases, it can focus on the simple observation of concepts such as decay and ruin.

The pictures seen in this post are some pictures of my Earth Art piece that I thought were cool but was not able to put into the last post. Some also give a better understanding of certain concepts, such as the symmetry and scale of the piece.

Decay of the same rose bundle (4 roses, remember the significance) over the span of a week.

Earth Art Project: Deprivation

Here it is. I've provided more details on the inspiration behind it in the previous three posts, which I fashioned as a sort-0f countdown to unveiling of this post. It may have been more effective if spaced out differently, but this was impossible due to exams.

Why do I call this piece, "Deprivation?" For the most part, I want to leave this piece open for interpretation, each element of the piece can be looked at a different way (depending on viewpoint); in fact, I am encouraging this, and would really like to see some feedback. However, the driving rationale of the piece was the irony of the tomato cage frames to help the roses grow upright and the simultaneous act of depriving the roses from soil (an essential component to their existence, providing necessary nutrients needed in photosynthesis). In addition to this, the relatively extreme conditions of the roses surrounding further hindered their survival and existence. I feel that this is analogous to oppression in several different societies around the world and throughout history (a social allegory of some sort). Many of these societies did not blatantly reveal the oppression that their citizens were subject to, however there is no doubting the existence of such "deprivation" of even the most basic of needs. Soil, is analogous to freedom of thought (speech, etc.) and the most basic human rights. From far away, it seems that the tomato cages are helping the roses to grow and survive; they did retain their pink color over the first couple days. However, the truth is that these are merely facades (analogous to the bogus programs and laws set forth by oppressive regimes to distract those that it oppresses; a common theme in these cultures is religion, used as an excuse to commit such atrocities). The result is the eventual wilting away of these people (or roses) and their ultimate demise. Without basic human rights, there is no way that a fulfilling life can be had; many lives throughout history have been wasted by such "deprivation."

Some artistic considerations I incorporated (as described in earlier posts), is the creation of a gravel cairn (since it is not made of stones, the definition is kind of skewed), and the utilization of roses (purity, innocence and feminism), overall symmetry and concentric circles (as in many forms of prehistoric art). Also, I have created a feature that is quite noticeable and one that involves the manipulation of a certain "land form." It is also a dynamic piece, due to the use of the roses, which are living, breathing organisms. I tried to capture pictures at periods of the first day, second day, and a week after the conception of the piece. These are present chronologically in sets of three in the following pictures.

Earth Art Project Inspirations: Gardening Techniques

I tried to reproduce a conventional gardening practice in an unconventional manner (maybe even in a superfluous manner). I incorporated multiple (3, remember the Native American relevance as an odd entity) tomato cages into my design. Tomato cages are devices made of galvanized wire used to contain and hold tomato vines upright, to prevent spoiling or improper growth. For those who keep organic gardens, they may have come in contact with such equipment. These were used as a scaffold to support the wilting roses that were a part of my design, creating a rather ironic piece.

Earth Art Project Inspirations: Roses

Roses were another feature I incorporated into my piece. As Mr. Birchett did in his Site Seer series, the incorporation of the rose gives a piece a certain ge ne se quoi. The rose is among the most symbolic of forms. The ancient Greeks and Romans associated the rose with their goddesses of love (i.e. Aphrodite/Venus). In other cultures, the rose is generally associated with similar ideas, mostly revolving around the purity of the feminine form (an idea resonating in Lucy Lippard's work and often described by Mr. Birchett when explaining his own pieces).

I utilized pink roses; according to teleflora.com, these roses symbolize "gentility, femininity, elegance and refinement." These roses were also of a pale shade, which furthers these notions by connoting "grace and gentleness, admiration and happiness." These roses had further began to wilt (due to the cold season), which also represents decay. A wilting rose, in many cases, is just as beautiful as one in bloom, representing the effect of age and strenuous conditions on the organism. I deadheaded these roses (although not in season), which were already in decline.

A picture of a rose which fell from its spot atop my piece a week after its creation. Look closely and you will see the ice crystal formation due to the relatively intense cold it was subject to over the last week.

Earth Art Project Inspirations: Native American Art

As you can see from my earlier posts, I have quite an affinity for that which is ancient. It is in this style which utilizes the different principles of earth art, albeit inadvertant. Perhaps it is this inadvertant nature of it that adds to its beauty. The intricacy of design can be appreciated exponentially more due to this fact. In those times, aesthetic was probably not the creator's primary concern. Despite it's beauty, ancient Native American art is no exception. Lucy Lippard describes such a piece in her book Overlay. She describes the "Big Horn Wheel," a medicine wheel in the Big Horn Mountains in Wyoming. This structure, built by prehistoric Native Americans between 1500-1765 AD, measures 80' across and has a 245' circumference. It is said that the structure may represent the sun, but it also has 28 spokes that may suggest lunar months. It consists of six cairns that may stand for the planets; interestingly, they are aligned to sunrise and sunset on the summer solstice and to the rising points of select stars. Another purpose of this wheel may have been to signal the proper day to begin the Sun Dance. The spokes of the Big Horn Wheel, like other medicine wheels on the Plains, nearly always point to other distant wheels and cairns. Another famous medicine wheel "Majorville Wheel" in Alberta, Canada, was created up to 5,000 years ago, as the Egyptian pyramids were under construction. Key concepts to take note of are the symmetry and usage of sacred numbers. Although not a perfect circle, considering the size of the piece, it is quite remarkable how circular its creater made it with their resources. Another less obvious feature of these medicine wheel is its use of sacred numbers. The Big Horn Wheel's 28 spokes are surprisingly there for a reason. It is the product of 4 and 7; 7 is the sum of 3 (which represents odd numbers) and 4 (which represents balance), and is itself a prime number. Structures such as these let us delve into the creators culture, gives us glimpses of what seems to be either an integral part of every day life or ceremonial practice.

Utilizing these concepts, I tried to replicate a bit of the symmetry and usage of numbers that is present in these medicine wheels. I tried to incorporate the circular shape to the best of my abilities, manipulating my piece into having concentric circles to further the notion of symmetry. The numbers 3 and 4 are integral parts to my piece, for basically the same reasons that have noted by Lippard other analysts. As she stated in Overlay, "contemporary artists are looking for ancient forms to restore that breath and also to take it for themselves. The animating element is often ritual." My piece is no exception to this way of thinking.

Earth Art Project Inspirations: Francis Alys

Ever since he was first mentioned in class, this Belgian artist's work has intrigued me. From the green line drawn to challenge the boundaries between Israel and Palestine to the subtle yet grand movement of geologic landforms, his work is quite phenomenal and eye-opening; my final project draws more inspiration from the latter.

In his work, "When Faith Moves Mountains" (2002), he recruited 500 volunteers and each person moved a shovel full of sand one step at a time from one side of a dune to the other, and together they moved the entire geographical location of the dune by a few inches. In fact, this "human comb" pushed a certain quantity of sand a certain distance, thereby moving a sixteen-hundred-foot-long sand dune about four inches from its original position. According to an article written by himself, he attempted to make a "social allegory," translating social narratives that intervene in the imaginary landscape of a place. He wanted to add to the local Peruvian history, by adding another myth (or rumor) to its narrative, thus creating somewhat of an urban myth that could be shared from generation to generation. There is no addition to the landscape, as stated by its creator, an attempt to "deromanticize land art." According to the Mexican curator/critic Cuauhtemoc Medina that he was travelling with, "Faith is a means by which one resigns oneself to the present in order to invest in the abstract promise of the future." Through this, linear displacement of the geologic feature (or dune) did literally occur, a process that would have taken hundreds if not thousands of years if not left alone. He gives this as the only explanation of his work, allowing interpretations to freely shape themselves and evolve over time.

So you may be wondering how this can possibly relate to my project. Well, its quite simple; although I do not live in Peru or have access to any sand dunes, the idea of manipulating a large land form is quite interesting. And this is what I did; although my "land form" was not nearly on the same magnitude of size as the sand dune, I was one person (not 500) with one shovel, who had to manipulate more than the mound's linear displacement. I didn't just move it four inches in any direction, I patterned and played with the landscape until something formed. As soon as I sensed the formation of something truly different and fresh, I began to hone in on the details. Overall, it was a quite painstaking process, but one that was truly fulfilling.

On a lighter note, I also took a little inspiration from another of Alys' more psychedelic works, "Narcotourism" (1996) in which he explored Copenhagen over the course of seven days under the influence of seven different drugs. In my case, the narcotics were replaced with a depressant, a bottle of Magic Hat beer. It had nothing to do with the final product, however it made working in cold rain a lot more palatable (especially while in pajamas).

Monroe Park on a Rainy Day (cont.)

These are some more pictures I took while wandering around Monroe Park on that cold day. There were a couple of imperfections in the walkways which were very interesting. After searching these paths for things to shoot, I stumbled across a patch of grass surrounded by asphalt. It sort of resembled an island, the green of the grass was surrounded by the wet darker hue of the asphalt, obviously analogous to a a body of land surrounded by water. According to Wikipedia (a.k.a. the best website ever created), Monroe Park was purchased in the 1850s, and began development as a recreation area in the 1870s (the walkways were probably also made soon afterwards). Thus, it is very interesting to see its modern state, nearly 130-140 years after its conception. Years of erosion, weathering, and maybe even blunt force to such a random parcel of the sidewalk is quite peculiar. The story of its creation is one that noone probably ever documented, yet its existence cannot be denied. It all falls into the genre of earth art that describes of the reclamation of manmade structures by the Earth. This subtle decay is rather beautiful, especially as its form alludes to other landforms (i.e. islands), furthering its ties to the Earth.

Some other pictures I took focused on imperfections on the curbs. These also fall into that nearly infinite category of Earth reclamation. In many of these pictures it seems as if the Earth is "attacking" the manmade asphalt on multiple fronts, invading its territory and conquering the underlying ground.