Trees grow
where there is no active cultivation throughout much of the world
not taken by desert. Somewhere in the interstices--groomed planear
shapes between the boundaries set by nature--humanity works preparing
fields, foundations, ramparts, pylons and walls. What appears to
have been, or will be, our movements with and on the land is the
subject of my landscapes. Though represented as uninhabited these
enigmatic sites, sometimes even the simplest of man's marks into
the soil, once were places of ceremony or refuge. These ubiquitous
sites live for me with the vibrations of voices stirred in the quiet
by light across the tilt and jag of the land.
The floor of nature and the
platforms we lay upon it are our indices of space. As we walk the
earth's surface that is heavily punctuated by man's structures,
we orient ourselves to the scale of our environment. It is the surprises,
the coupling of the architectonic with the organic, that fight mundane
spatial experiences. These forces are my challenge as I discover
natural 3-dimensional stages in the land, self-contained as concepts,
abandoned theaters to nourish me. I enter them as the actor might,
having stood backstage in the dark, now upon the lit platform to
confront animated volumes. Hopefully, I've found at least one odd
turn in the script, before I enter, that marks each play with a
different soul. |
