Completing the Circle: Amarillo Ramp to Spiral Jetty

Once upon a time in 2009, I selected a part (mainly rocks and sometimes mud) of each earthwork I visited and transferred it to the next: Spiral Jetty to Sun Tunnels, Sun Tunnels to Double Negative, Double Negative to the closest I could get to Roden Crater, Roden Crater to Lightning Field, and Lightning Field to Amarillo Ramp. This presented the anticipatory return to Spiral Jetty to deposit the rock from Amarillo Ramp at an unknown point in the future. Enter a myriad of other concerns that prevented me from taking the exact piece back to Spiral Jetty, or the Amarillo Ramp rain out last May which did not facilitate selecting a new one, and we come to 2016.

Somewhere around here in January while walking Amarillo Ramp, I chose a fragment of red sandstone and it resided....

... in my car's change drawer, bouncing and rattling around over the thousands of miles I trekked across the West since then.

I did not have any intention of visiting Spiral Jetty again this year, but when I discovered I was only 1.5 hours away from it last weekend, I had to make the trip. Note: never visit Spiral Jetty on a Sunday afternoon in the spring as the parking lot was overloaded, teenagers were complaining that their parents dragged them all the way out in the middle of nowhere to see this, and I witnessed a dog peeing on the earthwork (!). None of this qualified as a contemplative experience.

Amidst the hoards, I buried this at the very center. In doing so, I completed a task overdue, I said goodbye to a collaboration long over, and I marked the end of visiting earthworks until another potential school field trip in the future (or Roden Crater miraculously opens to the public for less than a $6500 ticket price before I am dead).

Amarillo Ramp Visit #2

Earlier this year, I visited Robert Smithson's Amarillo Ramp for the second time since 2009. The cold January sunshine and the solidly packed earth were welcome events after a failed attempt in May 2015 on the earthworks road trip with Ball State University. I learned so much about the piece through the extensive knowledge of Jon Revett that I am now able to fully understand how it was built...

evidenced by the original stakes ...

... and where the water from the lake bed was once drained ...

 ... the remains of where Robert Smithson's plane went down ...

... and the rock that serves as a memorial to the artist who was in the process of creating this earthwork.

There are still traces of LBK, the former "face" of the ramp but thankfully his signature neon green was primarily out of sight.

The most amusing remains were a giant teddy bear that resided under a tree for years until coyotes ripped it to shreds a day or two earlier. I departed wondering if the cotton stuffing will coat the cacti as long as the silver and green paint.

Crystal Bridges and Arkansas (the 45th State)

Crystal Bridges through Frederick Eversley's Big Red Lens

In my attempt to hightail it out of the Midwest for my sabbatical (beating the weather and winter in general), I dropped down into Arkansas to see Crystal Bridges and my 45th state of the union. Crystal Bridges is officially the only Walmart establishment I will ever willingly visit though it was difficult to shake the stigma despite it being a well respected art museum. Aside from the architecture and the grounds (which everyone raves about and rightfully so), I was most impressed by the sheer number of women and minorities that were represented in the collection. I could only hope that this becomes commonplace and not a detail that merits drawing attention to in the future.

Near the 20th century section (architect: Moshe Sofdie)

Nam June Paik's John Cage Robot II

Mark di Suvero's Lowell's Ocean through the window 

Gabriel Daye's Plexus 27 (featuring hundreds and hundreds of intricately placed threads in a stairwell)

Detail of Wayne Thiebaud's Supine Woman

Detail of Richard Estes' Antarctica, 2007

Arkansas from the Crystal Bridges Trail before I drove seven more hours to Amarillo, Texas reenacting my other career as a long haul truck driver.

Iceland Day 1: Arrival

The mother of all road trips: the Ring Road. Clockwise. 3308 kilometers. June 2015. It was the beginning of high tourist season though what that meant was a frequent point of conversation. My cousin, Donna, and I spent 15 days wondering what Iceland could look like crowded. Thankfully, we never found out.

First view from the Keflavík International Airport en route to buy groceries in Reykjavík.

Fascinated by the aesthetics of baked goods though not one to eat them often, I found the muffins borderline appalling.

Lunch in the grocery store parking lot. Peas imported from Ireland.

Five hours sleep in 48 hours and a 13 hour layover at JKF does not bode well for starting off in an energetic fashion. We did not visit Hvalfjördur out of sheer exhaustion, opting instead to rest by both of the Akranes lighthouses in the late afternoon sun. 

The side view mirror was also used to capture piles of drying salt at the peninsula. This was one of the warmest afternoons as I was only wearing two layers rather than the typical three. First locational comparison: an industrial Maine coastal town with 1/16 the population.

After dinner at the Settlement Center of Iceland, we drove inland to our funny hotel on the Grimsa River. "Funny" is used as a description because of the abundance of trolls (for better or for worse - more so the latter).

The Fossatún Hotel view from outside our room at 11 PM. Like most people who have never experienced 24 hours of daylight, I was constantly observing the quality of light at all times of day. The grays, the blues, the sun hanging over the horizon eons longer than normal before it sank into the sea, were all noted. Birds never ceased singing. Light never stopped entering the cracks in the curtains though this hotel would prove to be the darkest of all that followed. We would miss this the rest of our journey.

Second locational comparison: parts of Southern Idaho after a snow melt. Legend has it that there are piles of gold under the grass mounds. We did not find any but loved to look at the clumpy formations up close and from afar while speeding by in the SUV.

The Fossatún Hotel offered many photographic opportunities excluding stone sculptures of trolls. Above, I was channeling my inner Peter Happel Christian by documenting a rock holding down a grate.

I returned to this cabin multiple times trying to capture its odd shape in the landscape, never fully succeeding.

A hobbit house with grass resembling long hair. It was with this photograph, taken shortly before midnight, that I realized I was not near anything I had ever known. It was not the subject matter per se, but fully understanding how far north I was... traveling near the Arctic Circle in June. The abundance of light made the distance greater.

10 AM through the window of the hotel room the next morning (it looks a lot like midnight). After much needed sleep, we would venture further inland to visit countless waterfalls (hereby known as foss) and the Snaefellsnes Peninsula.

Iceland would come to represent my desire to visit the edges of the earth, the point where all roads end, where the sea is the final barrier. The entire country defined the edge and I, trying desperately to hide my fear of heights, would peer out into this volatile space, day after day in wonder.

Nancy Holt's "Star Crossed"

Undated and unattributed photograph from the Center for Land Use Interpretation website

According to the CLUI database, Nancy Holt's Star Crossed would be closed due to its dilapidated state. Sunday, Amelia and I were on a mission to see it and vowed we would photograph it whether or not we could get close. It was the summer of many earthworks after all. Why not see one in a neighboring state that was only an hour out of our way?

This is what it looked like shortly after it was built (1979-1980). Image via. 

The CLUI link above also states:

"The piece is made primarily of earth, originally mounded to a height of 14 feet, covering two concrete tubes, one aligned north-south and the other east-west, held in place by a buried steel frame. Until recently, the grounds crew of the University has been attempting to maintain it as part of the landscaping of the property, and it has not been treated as an artwork with special conservatorial needs. Some years ago, due to insufficient irrigation, the grass covering died, and the soil, thus exposed to erosion, slowly slumped down the steep slopes. The sculpture was rebuilt, but with the existing clay subsoil mixed into the topsoil, making for a less resilient form. Efforts to preserve the piece are said to be moving forward, under a new director at the art museum."

 

Here is the satellite map we were armed with to find Star Crossed after leaving the car in the Miami University Art Museum parking lot. We were hoping for something in between the CLUI photograph above and the cover of Sculpture magazine. We were also grateful that the huge rainstorm (number 746 of the season) had passed. The grass was wet but not muddy. If you think the following photographs are overly saturated, blame the non stop rain as they are close to accurate in color temperature.

First sighting.

Creeping closer...

and closer. There is graffiti on the right side of the interior of the tube. It was a little dank and trashy so we did not venture inside.

View of the 6 PM sun through the concrete tube in the opposite direction. Unlike visiting Sun Tunnels in May, the solar rays were plentiful this afternoon.

Overgrown plaque.

The whole point of the piece (or at least the placement of the top tube) is lost without water. Even all the rain could not fill the pool. We climbed up to the back (yes the soil is still uneven but at least it is not mowed) and looked through, wishfully thinking it would be restored soon.

Apparently, I cannot pass up taking a photograph of my muse in a Smoosh t-shirt.

I do not know what it would take to restore Star Crossed and whether or not that would be Holt's intention. I wish all universities that commissioned these earthworks in the first place had the capability of Western Washington University to maintain them.

Earthwork Viewing Kits and A Month's Worth of News

In a March of medical leave and recovery (long story), I am *slowly* working on catching up and preparing for the Photolucida portfolio reviews in April. In addition, everything is progressing well with the planned Earthworks Road Trip Part 2: Lightning Field is reserved, airplane tickets are purchased, rental cars and hotels are lined up, etc. This version of the expedition is in conjunction with a course I am co-teaching with Lara Kuykendall called Space, Land and Concept in Art of the American West. I have been moonlighting on that blog but also contemplating what artwork I can make during the second visit.

In 2009, the collaborative project was a huge undertaking and this year, as co-leader of a field trip with eight students, I will not be able to devote as much time as I would like to each space and will have other responsibilities. However, this will not prevent me from making art and I have a few ideas that I would like to pursue in May.

• First of all, the Amarillo Ramp rock will be tossed (it's about time)!

• Secondly (in the spirit of goofiness), the car will make another appearance. Rather than seeing how close I can drive to an earthwork, I will continue my sweeping panoramic photographs from the back seat.

• Thirdly (for Instagram), the I-need-to-grow-a-third-arm-and-hand binocular photographs will make another appearance.

• The fourth concept revolves around a photograph of James Turrell's Roden Crater Field Kit that I discovered last month.

James Turrell, Roden Crater Field Kit, 2000

I immediately thought of Fluxus Travel Kits like the one below:

Fluxus Travel Kit, c. 1970

I am going to make Earthworks Viewing Kits for the following: Amarillo Ramp, Lightning Field, Double Negative, Sun Tunnels, and Spiral Jetty. I have half a mind to make one for Roden Crater but since once again, we were dismissed by the Skystone Foundation (nor do we have $6500 each at our disposal and will have to resort to seeing this instead) a viewing kit for an absent piece might offer needed variation. I am withholding the details of what this entails but I promise it will not be as mundane as what one sees in the Turrell image above. In the meantime, it will be my first sculpture project that will not rely on a photograph and I couldn't be happier to add this to my never ending list of all the series I am currently working on and cannot seem to finish in a timely manner.

Saving the best news for last: I received my sabbatical and will be spending the 2016 spring semester finishing Autobiography in Water at the final two destinations: New Zealand and Australia. At least there is hope for completing something in the not so near future!

Columbus, Ohio Art Pilgrimage

About a month ago, Hannah and I trekked to Columbus, Ohio to see two exhibitions and hang out with our friends, Kevin and Mary at our favorite Indian restaurant.

Fiber: Sculpture 1960 - Present at the Wexner was the main destination and it did not disappoint. Highlights include:

Elsi Giauque's Spatial Element from 1979 (see link for a better installation photo)

Ernesto Neto's Soundway from 2012 (with metal bells and seed pods)

Faith Wilding's Crocheted Environment, 1995 (image via). The depictions of Wilding's installation online are varied - the one below is more accurate in terms of the lighting and scale we witnessed at the Wexner but it is far easier to see the shapes and the way it was installed in the documentation above.

 (image via)

Françoise Grossen's knotted Inchworm, 1970 (image via)

No trip to the Wexner is complete without spending time in the bookstore and two of these were acquired to bring back to our respective houses. It was a fitting purchase since many of the artworks we saw were based on grid structures and mathematics.

  

 

Alison Rossiter at the Columbus College of Art and Design was the biggest surprise and I have since shown her photographs and website to many people out of sheer love for the formal qualities and sequencing she creates from the ghostly remains of photographic paper long past expiration. The image above and the three below are snapshots from her exhibition Light.

For more information about Alison's work see this link (I have spent a great deal of time lamenting the fact that the CCAD website is as poor as the Ball State School of Art's in terms of finding information easily).

Sitter, an exhibition of portraiture at CCAD featured new and old work by Kelli Connell including The Field from the series Double Life:

I was also interested in how Nina Katchadourian presented her iPhone photographs of Lavatory Self-Portraits in the Flemish Style.

I am looking forward to another road trip to Columbus this summer to see Catherine Opie's Portraits and Landscapes. Long live my Wexner membership.