Planning Drawings for "Over The River"

Christo and Jeanne-Claude are possibly the best known among those artists who work outside of the gallery in urban and rural environments. Many of their projects involve wrapping stuff in fabric – be it the Reichstag in Berlin, the Kunsthalle in Bern, a medieval tower in Spoleto, etc. Their latest project titled “Over The River” is a plan to suspend 5.9 miles of silvery fabric over the Arkansas River in Colorado. Nearing launch, the project has been thrown into some disarray by a the filing of a lawsuit to stop the project. A group named “Rags Over Arkansas River” (ROAR) claim that the project will cause significant environmental damage and that the Environmental Impact Assessment of the proposed project was flawed.

This lawsuit crystallizes a conflict I have always felt about the idea of ‘land art’ or so-called ‘environmental art’ – is it art that calls our attention to environmental issues or is it vandalism – damaging the environment that it purports to be trying to protect. The answer is, as always, not straightforward. Christo and Jean-Claude care about the environment. They say of this project: “The artists bring to Over The River a documented and unwavering commitment to conservation and are dedicated to avoiding or minimizing all potential impacts related to noise, vegetation, air quality and water quality during the construction and removal phases, as well as during the two-week viewing period. In fact, the artists altered their artistic design, installation schedule and the viewing period to be sensitive to wildlife and the environment.” Supporters will quote this as evidence of their commitment. Cynics will compare this statement to almost identical statements made by large corporations involved in mining, drilling and other natural resource intensive industries.

For me, the questions here are different – What is this for? and What does it say about our relationship to the Land?

The project has significant local support primarily because “the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) projected that Over The River will bring a total of 416,000 visitors to the Arkansas River Valley, including 344,000 visitors during the two week exhibition period and 72,000 visitors during installation and removal combined.  The BLM also estimates that Over The River will generate more than $121 million in total economic output throughout Colorado.” In this context, what do projects such as this end up telling us about our relationship to the Land? Do they lead us to respect the land and our environment and feel a closer connection to it in some way – the purpose, I would argue, of any art that purports to label itself ‘environmental’? Or do they further embed the idea of the land as ‘exploitable product’ – now wrapped up nicely so that it becomes an ephemeral tourist attraction generating economic activity? And if it’s the latter, then are the temporary and relatively gentle environmental disturbances and uplifting sensations of works of art such as these not a better way of ‘exploiting the land’ than other alternatives?

For most of their work, Christo and Jeanne-Claude have limited themselves to urban environments where there is little or no potential for environmental damage. However, when they venture on to rural or relatively “unspoilt” landscapes such as their work to surround islands in Biscayne Bay (below) and others, then this takes us into the ambiguous territory of land art. Here we run into the debate as to whether any form of environmental damage is reasonable for artists who claim to have an interest in protecting the environment. But then, which artist – whatever the medium and whether in the gallery or elsewhere – can create art without using resources and therefore, in some way, exploiting the natural environment?

David Hockney is undoubtedly one of the most important of contemporary artists; all the more so because, like that other contemporary great, Gerhardt Richter, he hasn’t been seduced into the ever increasingly ridiculous nonsense that goes under the rubric of contemporary ‘conceptual art’.  His latest exhibit at the Royal Academy in London is focused on one of the most traditional of subjects – the landscape.

Since its origins in Rome in the 17th century, landscape painting has both reflected and influenced Man’s relationship with the land. Since the romantic period, not much has changed in landscape painting. The landscape is romanticized and presented as a fetish object to be held in awe – a perspective that later paralleled the rise of the conversion of natural landscape to consumer product through the creation of national parks. Turner was possibly the only landscape painter to provide a different perspective – the landscape as atmosphere rather than object.

The romantic view of the landscape as fetish object continues to be carried through in contemporary nature photography of the type that populates the National Geographic magazine and other similar outlets. John Stezaker’s work comments on this view of nature.

In these days of concern with our environment and the preservation of natural spaces, a fair amount of contemporary art portrays Man as the invader and destroyer of a nature that would remain as this romantically beautiful object if only we would leave it alone.

It is in this context – and the context of landscape painting nowadays being largely seen as a spent art form – that Hockney’s work needs to be judged. And it emerges victorious.

After four centuries of landscape painting, one would have thought that there remains little to say. Yet Hockney manages to give us a totally different feel for the landscape in these images. Here the landscape is presented as a joyful motif. The bright colours (a kind of return to Fauvism – though not quite), the almost naif approach to some of the work, the general atmosphere that is created – all of these generate a sensation of fun and joy. Hockney draws no difference between so-called unspoilt landscape – or wilderness – and agricultural countryside. Both are to be celebrated. Hockney moves away from the trend to excluding any form of human influence from landscape representation – a trend that continues to perpetuate the fiction of a wilderness to be preserved untouched.

In these works the landscape is no longer that remote object to be fetishized and held in awe. Unlike so much of contemporary environmental art, guilt at being human and living our lives is no longer the emotion we are expected to feel when looking at the Hockney landscape. With these images we feel uplifted with sheer delight, enjoyment and a sense of fun – all Hockney trademarks represented with particular exuberance in this body of work. All of this creates a different and more positive human relationship with the landscape – one built on joie de vivre and which may lend itself better to building interest and support for addressing environmental questions.

One final point about this body of work. Some of the ‘paintings’ (including the two shown here) were created on an iPad – rapidly becoming one of Hockney’s favourite tools. In doing so, Hockney combines modern technology with his celebration of nature and the landscape – again a refreshing change from the dichotomous battle between nature and modern progress that is all too often set up by the environmental community.

Slide show of images of the exhibit

One review of the exhibit.

But, of course, not everyone likes this work.

In his winning entry for this year’s Turner Prize, Martin Boyce brings an autumnal park indoors and re-interprets it in classical modernist/constructivist terms.

A large room, re-designed in every detail. White columns from which flows a designed ceiling of white shapes – “trees” with “leaves” and branches. The centrepiece is a table covered in graffiti and with a hanging mobile gently swaying.  All in stark geometric shapes yet oozing a certain romanticism. On the floor lie brown leaves made out of cut paper. The ‘park’ is complete with garbage cans re-designed into unusual modernist shapes.

This installation has its supporters and its critics. It is a space that is clearly inspired by “Nature” yet re-interpreted in classical modernist language. Boyce’s skill is in taking the brutish language of constructivist art and creating something that, through angular shapes created in synthetic, man-made materials, still manages to reproduce the softness and emotional engagement that is felt when we are in contact with ‘real nature’ (whatever that might be).

Boyce is quick to point out that his work is not political but largely driven by his emotion (see video below) but I wonder where this sort of work can take us in terms of thinking about the relationship between nature and the modern world. If Boyce can reproduce the gentleness and serenity of nature in an indoor installation made out of angular, modern materials, is the conflict between nature and the modern world real or is it something that we have created in our minds? Do we have to keep presenting nature and our modern development as enemies or can work like that of Martin Boyce inspire us to break out of our entrenched positions and see more complementarity? Are we even able to consider thinking differently?

“Each walk followed my own unique, formal route, for an original reason, which was different from other categories of walking, like travelling. Each walk, though not by definition conceptual, realised a particular idea. Thus walking – as art – provided a simple way for me to explore relationships between time, distance, geography and measurement. These walks are recorded in my work in the most appropriate way for each different idea: a photograph, a map, or a text work. All these forms feed the imagination.”

Long’s work has a strong evocative power. In particular, his ‘textworks’ are often short statements that capture a particular essence of a walk. In their short but powerful form their effect resembles that of haiku verses.

Long engages with the land in a highly personal way. His work is not the type of landscape or nature art that produces generic images that fetishize and romanticize nature while lacking any personal connection. Rather, in Long’s work one can feel the intimate connection that, through his long, solitary walks, the artist has achieved with the landscape. This sort of art creates a strong impact and is more likely to stimulate us to seek our own personal connections and meanings in nature and landscape than are simple, generic images that purport to show “the beauty of nature”.

Even when exhibited in the gallery, Long’s works contain a strong, organic feel that reflect the artist’s connection with the landscapes that provide the raw materials for his gallery works.

“Umhverfing is an Icelandic word for the state between nature and environment” says Pétur Thomsen of his project titled Umhverfing. There is clearly no equivalent word in English but the concept itself is intriguing.

Icelandic photographer Thomsen has spent the last several years documenting the transformation of undeveloped areas around Reykjavic into suburban developments. He calls this process “nature being transformed into environment”.

This distinction between ‘nature’ and ‘environment’ is an interesting one. The conservation movement is in the habit of equating ‘nature’ and ‘the environment’.  ‘Environmentally-friendly activities’ are defined as those activities which contribute to preserve some concept of nature. By ‘environment’ Thomsen clearly means something different. He means the human built environment or maybe a better phrasing would be the environment in which people choose to live. For the most part, human beings have become incapable of living in ‘nature’. Rather we have to live in a built environment with all the comforts and services that brings with it. Thomsen documents the process by which a ‘natural’ space is converted into an environment in which people can live.

Thomsen does not explicitly make a value judgement about the events he is documenting. However, many people viewing this and similar work would, today, interpret these developments as being ‘destructive’ of nature and wilderness in the interests of yet more suburban development. This interpretation is, however, a very recent cultural way of looking at development. Until relatively recently (late 19th century), most art portrayed human expansion as a positive event – the taming and civilizing a wild and dangerous wilderness. The painting below epitomizes this perspective as civilization hovers over America moving from the already tamed and civilized East (on the right side of the painting) to the still wild and dangerous West (on the left of the image).

Only recently have we realized that our living environment can only continue to exist within a larger context – the larger environment of a healthy ecosphere. This has resulted in a progressive change from our view of development from ‘civilizing’ to ‘destructive’. Thomsen’s use of a language that contrasts ‘nature’ with an ‘environment’ that we can actually live in brings back the idea of development as a civilizing influence even as his images convey human intrusion and landscape destruction.

Whether or not Stezaker had this in mind when, scalpel and glue in hand, he created these collages, Badger has a point. We fetishize natural beauty spots and turn them into a product for our consumption – whether as romanticized image or as a pilgrimage destination for the faithful. The product is starting to become so valuable and so rare that, like a unique painting or crown jewel, it is now surrounded by fences and patrolled by guards with mere people only allowed in under strictly controlled circumstances – and after having bought their ticket.

Little or none of the “Nature” that we consume is ‘real’, ‘unspoilt’, ‘genuine’ or whatever else we choose to call it. Armies of scientists and technical specialists work every day to ‘conserve’ it and keep it beautiful and ‘natural’ in much the same way, suggest Stezaker’s images, as we have armies of plastic surgeons working to conserve celebrities’ faces and bodies.

Yet, Nature is a product that many of us still want to have and want to consume – in one form or another. The character, shape and form of that product has changed and will continue to change over time. We will adapt to those changes but, I suspect, we will continue to seek and enjoy that product and will continue to want it to be available.

David Maisel’s work spans many different project over many years. One of his interests is in documenting through aerial photographs the impact that Man has on the landscape.  The image above is from “The Mining Project” where he explores the effect of mining in “undoing of the landscape, in terms of both its formal beauty and its environmental politics.” Like other artists (eg Edward Burtynsky – previously reviewed in this blog), Maisel explores how aesthetic beauty can be created out of destructive and polluting processes.

Examining landscapes from The Great Salt Lake (above) to his project “The Forest” where he examines patterns created by floating logs and clear cut forests (below), Maisel draws us into unknown (and maybe unknowable) landscapes using images that “are charged by both their profane beauty and their ethically questionable nature.”

Below: Image from The Lake Project: “the stuff of California legend: a story of engineers, politicians, and big land owners working together to divert water to the rapidly growing desert city of Los Angeles, generating a thriving agricultural industry and an environmental disaster in the process.”

Fidelman is a rock climber and he describes his series as “A photographic project that captures the essence of the climbing spirit”.  But to me these images speak more broadly than just telling a story about climbing.

To my eyes these images speak of a harmony between Man and Nature in a way that very few images manage to achieve nowadays. So much of our visual imagery is focused on Man’s destructive effect on Nature that we seem to have forgotten that there is also a positive harmony to be enjoyed observed and appreciated.

In most of these images the human figure is dwarfed by the majesty of the raw natural landscape.  Yet both elements have their own aesthetic – a different and contrasting beauty – and Fidelman manages to create a feeling of harmony rather than one of violation.

Fidelman’s images are reminiscent of those Arno Rafael Minkkinen’s ‘self-portraits’ in a natural environment.  However, while Minkkinen’s images create a feeling of human intrusion and molestation, Fidelman’s do not.  Looking through Stone Nudes I am left with a sense of peace and the hopeful feeling that some kind of harmonious relationship with nature is, maybe, possible.

Fidelman does not set out to make a point beyond his celebration of the climbing spirit. Yet, in celebrating both the human form and the natural world in the context of non-damaging human recreation, he has created an inspirational series of images that could show the way for a new visual language for those interested in taking a positive view of environmental issues.

Now comes “Genesis” – an ambitious 8 year project started in 2004. Salgado aims to photograph what is left of “pristine” nature – that which has escaped, or recovered from, the effects of human development, global warming and other human impact.

In many ways, this is a romantic project – a photographer seeking a past that is vanishing and presenting to the world a set of grand, pastoral images of a largely bygone world – from beautiful landscapes to seascapes to animals to ‘unspoilt’ indigenous tribes.

Will any of this have an effect?

In answering this question, Salgado is both optimistic and realistic. “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,” he said. “It isn’t true that the planet is lost. We must work hard to preserve it.”

Unlike many, Salgado has not taken the easy route of documenting human destruction of the planet, placing the Human as the enemy of the Natural. Rather, his aim is gently to persuade that it remains possible for us to move forward without destroying everything in our wake.

Emmanuel Coupe - UK Landscape Photographer of the Year 2009

I have so far resisted the temptation to include in this blog what I call ‘straight’ photography – that which is a ‘reproduction’ or ‘reportage’ of some version of reality but which has no strong conceptual basis. In other words photography that brings us little that is new in terms of conceptual thinking. Traditional landscape and wildlife photography and straight reportage have, to my mind, fallen into this category and have therefore been excluded.

But I was recently looking at the results of the UK Landscape Photographer of the Year award. The photography is generally ‘pretty’ and ‘straight’. But the overall structure of the competition provides some food for thought.

The big question that arises is – what constitutes a ‘landscape’ today?

Traditionally, landscape photography has focused on providing us with a romanticized view of a ‘nature’ that is long gone. Photographers have to travel miles and make sure their camera is pointed in exactly the right direction to capture a ‘pure’ landscape without intrusion from any harsh realities.  In the UK competition, the overall winners still tend to fall in this pretty, chocolate box landscape genre (see above).  However, the competition also recognizes the reality of today’s world by including a number of other categories.

Jonathan Lucas - Runner-up in Living The View Category, 2010

Recognizing that probably up to 80% or so of people in Europe today live in an urban environment, the competition has an urban landscape section – a section that reflects the reality of people’s everyday experiences much more accurately that does a pristine ‘natural’ landscape. It also encourages urban views in many or its other categories.

A category entitled ‘Living The View’  focuses on people interacting with the landscape. This generates many different entries including those, like the one below, that remind us that in Europe there is practically no untouched ‘natural’ landscape left. It has all been converted to agricultural land and people’s interaction with the landscape is synonymous with working the landscape. Conservationists have taken euphemistically to calling some of this agricultural land a ‘man-made ecosystem’ which, they claim, is now something worth conserving in the state that it just happens to be today.

Jon Brook - Winner, "Living The View", 2010

In bringing us these images and including them in a Landscape Photographer of the Year award, the organizers remind us all of what varied interpretation the word ‘landscape’ should have today. They also question what, if any, is the continuing role of the fiction of a romanticized ‘nature’ that so many photographers, including those with a conservation agenda, insist on serving up day after day. The reality is that, today, it is hard (probably impossible) to find any European landscape that does not have the imprint of humanity stamped upon it.

The final success will come on the day that the winning image of ‘Landscape Photographer of The Year’ will be one that has broken away from chocolate box fiction to less pretty realities. We’re not there yet – but maybe soon.

Nigel Hillier - Winner, Natural England ‘Landscape on your Doorstep’ Award 2009