Borders: Look, Don’t Touch

By Geneva Boliek-Poling

My experience of borders in the past has been driving on an empty highway passing an old billboard that says “Welcome to Colorful Colorado!” or another state motto of a similar sort. I’ve never been in a situation quite like the Texas – Mexico border where you are dancing just on the edge, a variety of boundaries restricting you to your own country.

A concrete slab in the earth that you can’t step off, as it was at Monument 1, seems almost like a traffic light. There’s no physical force to stop you from just sneaking a foot onto Mexican land. There’s nothing to keep you from running the red light, but you wouldn’t dare. It’s illegal.

Then there’s the fence along the border that cuts through the landscape for over 1,000 miles. It’s massive. It looms. I stood looking down the rusty grid to see the vanishing point where it visually turned to a wall of solid black.

And the river itself, a natural boundary, meandering far from the cities, looks lazy enough. But looks are deceiving. It’s deep and it’s fast and the vegetation on the banks is not forgiving. Each of these perimeters poses their own confine whether it is lawful or physical. I felt so close and so far, however cliché it sounds. How frustrating. How exciting.

Field Tip #2: Gila Wilderness - Elephant Butte - Valle de Oro (there and back)

Gila Wilderness - Elephant Butte - Valle de Oro (there and back)
By Amanda Stuart

After topping up on city comforts for a week, we recommenced our journeys in the Gila State Forest, New Mexico. Much had I heard of this major American southwest wilderness, though most of which I confess was cross-pollinated with childhood imaginariums of terrifying geila monsters. I hadn’t figured that these reptiles actually DO exist, though perhaps not with the same godzilla-esque mythological status.

Looking south from a rise above Turkey Springs, Gila Wilderness

The brooding late afternoon Gila (pronounced heeler) we rolled into was warm and unusually wet. It had a strong psychic impact that demanded absolute respect. In addition, for the first time in my life I was confronted with the prospect of animals that might want to eat me, or at least want to know what business I had in their patch.
It makes you acutely aware of your position in the food chain.

Black bear print, Turkey springs confluence

The Gila is physically characterized by complex geology and high country aridity, which supports a plethora of diverse flora including deciduous trees, cottonwoods, spiky ground herbs, succulents and the mysterious datura plant.

A swollen Gila River

The fertile Gila River swelled over the 5 wet days we spent there, refusing us access to its high reach hot springs, but providing ample opportunity for explorations of its fascinating lower reaches. Fuelled by more superlative camp food, the crew busied themselves with a variety of research and art actions, centered round soggy river walks, canyon forays, river floats and of course the increasingly mandatory art of rattlesnake dodging. Generally rattlers will do anything to avoid human conflict, giving intruders a warning shake of their percussive tails. They must have been on the peyote that week, as they seemed a bit slack in adhering to this polite convention. I literally came face to face with a mute one that had cleverly embedded itself under the rocks of the lower hot springs – and consequently found myself inventing an innovative style of moonwalking.

what lies beneath….

The Gila is also home to many wondrous birds and animals including black bears, puma, coyotes, deer, habaneros and even wolves (!) – some of which were evidenced by the copious tracks spotted.


However the most frequent visitor to the camp was a persistent skunk (Pepe) that hovered around camp threatening any interfering humans with a belligerently raised tail. I must have good skunk karma, as the one that broke into my tent one night looking for licorice, whilst I was innit, mercifully spared me its skanky skunk juices.

Whilst exploring the Gila’s stunning striated rock stratigraphy, I came upon a most curious and unique cactus, with no less than 5 heart shaped leaves.
There was only one gesture to honor this aberrant succulent.

a bit of harmless cacti affection




Elephant Butte

Our second work site was the picturesque Elephant Butte, a massive reservoir in in southern New Mexico, west of an enormous region earmarked for military procedures by the good ol’ U.S. Air force.
Astounding in scale and stark in beauty, the crew quickly established creative inroads into its rugged topography and the go-pro was a smoking hot item, for many of these.

I used my time here marveling at and attempting to respond to aspects of the reservoirs exquisite light and topography, whilst attempting to make psychic contact with the plentiful fish and avian populations.
I also made an affectionate nods to the astonishing Australian land arts crew (Amelia, Heike, John and Marzena and co) in a few interventions that echoed the spirit of their respective inquiries.

Elephant Butte is close to the Bosque del Apache wetland – an area crucial to the many hundred thousands of migratory birds that travel along the central American migratory route. To visit here is to meditate on the wonders of safe trajectories and the need for shelter and replenishment along the path.

Our final evening at Elephant Butte brought a catatonic thunderstorm that resulted in an extremely sculptural manipulation of our camp by the forces of nature.

a munted camp – but a cracking good installation!

Valle de Oro

The second trip concluded with the consideration of the urbanized Rio Grande at Valle de Oro, and the crew developing strategies into collaborative and systemic thinking that were harnessed into an alternative presence and interaction with visitors to the Valle de Oro Nature Reserve Field Day.

Though a challenging time and place, I feel strongly that the repercussions of the work undertaken here will strengthen reflective thinking for all involved and illuminate the crucial role that creative thought plays at personal, community and global levels.

And so dear companieros, the final ramblings from your devoted Aussie land arts sheila monster, are officially bagged.

(still from the rockumentary) America is big…and Australians know how to rock it (for Hartmann, Henel, Gilbert and crew) -photo Cedra Wood

It is with a heavy heart I leave the crew to take up their final field trip, and return to the Antipodes…but it is time to connect with my own country and kin.

It has been an utter privilege to learn, laugh, explore and reflect creatively upon your incredible patch and to contemplate the wonders of the world within which we fumbling humans intertwine. Safe travels to you all, and thank you so much for your generosity and acceptance of me into the land arts family.

Aloha for now.
XXX

Heartfelt thanks to Jen, Ryan, Bill and Cedra for all of your ‘all’.
And to Amelia, Heike, John and all of my beloved kin and crew from home, who made this dream a reality.

2014 Land Arts of the American West Exhibition

DECEMBER 1 - DECEMBER 12, 2014

John Sommers Gallery
Room 202 2nd Floor, Art Building
University of New Mexico
Albuquerque, New Mexico
Gallery Hours: Monday - Friday 8:15am – 4:45pm

OPENING RECEPTION: DECEMBER 5 from 6 - 8pm

Artists:
Geneva Boliek-Poling
Kylie Heikkila
Tara Marshall-Tierney
Noel Mollinedo
Wayne Nez-Gaussoin
Staci Page
Cristine Posner
Randal Romwalter

John Sommers Gallery is pleased to announce a group exhibition of new works resulting from the 2014 Land Arts of the American West program.
 
The projects presented in this exhibition were produced by individuals who came together as wandering artists looking for meaning in unfamiliar spaces. While they traced the Rio Grande Watershed from the headwaters to the US/Mexico Border, their investigations and works became sensorial expressions of place of the American Southwest. Individual encounters became ideas expressed through performance, drawing, installation and more. This showcase of artists demonstrates how field investigations and studio art production intersect to develop rigorous creative practices and provocative works of art.

2014 LAND ARTS OF THE AMERICAN WEST FIELD SITES:

COLORADO
Rio Grande Headwaters

TEXAS
El Paso
Big Bend State Park
Dixon Water Foundation, Marfa

NEW MEXICO
Valle De Oro NWF, Albuquerque
Chaco Canyon NP
El Vado Dam/Lake
Gila Wilderness
Elephant Butte

Land Arts of the American West, at the University of New Mexico, is an ongoing experiment and interdisciplinary model for creative and critical arts pedagogy based in place. During the program, students travel extensively throughout the Southwest for up to 50 days, while camping and investigating environmental sites, human habitation systems, and questions facing the region.

For more information about the program visit: http://landarts.unm.edu/
 
Applications for 2015 program are currently being accepted. Details for applying can be found here: http://landarts.unm.edu/application.html

Contact:
Jeanette Hart-Mann, Research Assistant Professor: hartmann@unm.edu

Truly Remembering A Landscape or Place - The Artist’s Dilemma

Tara Marshall-Tierney

Thoughts atop a crumbling yellow canyon

As humans, and particularly as artists, we are constantly attempting to remembering and capture our visual sights through photography and drawing. Even through this however, we are selecting a frozen still with a set frame, and this is not what we see. Even when stuck in one spot, our eyes travel across the whole landscape.]

We were joined in the Gila by Matthew Rangel, a printmaker who pieces together landscapes in a way that exists in maps and topology but through this attempt to capture the entire landscape, results in an image that is impossible for the eye to see. This is what interested me about his work and made me think further about the way we capture landscapes to remain in our memory. He also spoke about how he would sometimes draw the landscape “wrong” and this is something I have been noticing in my own work since Land Arts began.

http://matthewrangelstudio.com/images/across-the-sierra

I will often omit a tree or some other obstruction to capture a line smoothly. So my attempt to remember them in the future is already an unreliable one, along with the fact that the set frame and 2D format further distracts from what is in front of me.

But trying to remember it just myself does the same and often becomes a mass of line, shape colour, rather than any detailing. Photographing the landscape, for me, obscures my memory further - forcing me to remember that single 6x4 frame, singling it out as special & forgetting the rest. Already, when I think back to Chaco, Headwaters etc, I am remembering what I photographed while I was there, more than my true experience.

Over time, memories of landscape fade and become more & more obscured and blurred into multiple confusions of several places.

The unreliability of what we are capturing versus what we are experiencing against a battle to capture it fully I think can be the landscape artist and photographers biggest and most fascinating obstacle.
We are taught to understand landscape in a 2D, framed format, though reality is something entirely different.

Land vs Water in El Vado Dam

Tara Marshall-Tierney

Pale vastness
Dry Cracked
Wet muddy
Warm dust
Seeking the water
Toes becoming mud
Huge expanse
Stomach and lungs filling with bigness
Carp teasing with playful glimpses moving the stillness revealing life in apparent desolation

Sparkles versus trembles
Constant movement versus solid dryness
Smooth versus crumbling
Reflecting versus baking
Soaking versus dusting
Flat versus rambling
In versus on

And We'll All Float On Alright

Geneva Boliek-Poling

There was sand. There was rain. There was an adventure on a plastic floatation device that made me laugh too hard.

But what I loved about Elephant Butte most was the light.

Sunrises and sunsets, the lightning… I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.

Trend Carefully

Geneva Boliek-Poling



Sand burrs, red ants, poison ivy, skunks, rattles snakes… Never have I been so nervous going to the bathroom.

I cannot talk about how much I love Land Arts

Noel Mollinedo


At our most previously visited site, Valle De Oro National Wildlife Refuge, the Land Arts Crew lived closely in alfalfa fields. We decided on working on a collaborative project which taught us much about each other. Taught us in regards to each other’s work habits and modes of engagement with others, switching from individuals into a collective thought. A fun process!

Anyways, this changed our daily process of exploration that we developed at other sites i.e. the Gila Wilderness, and Elephant Butte on that trip. Alone time can be crucial for recharging energy spent working in sync with others and can also be essential for giving space to the ideas that are asking to emerge. I’m sure we all felt this shift.

Valle De Oro, formerly known as Valley Gold, was the former site of a milk distributor. What remains of that era is a lonely but sturdy concrete structure. Geometrically sound and beautifully symmetrical, this building could be an aircraft hangar. The dirt floors inside are evenly lit by holy squares of light running down the center of the buildings length. However, in the back there is an isolated metal dome that seems to have held liquid at one point. The acoustics it resonated caught my attention when a rock tumbled across its opening.




I made several trips to it whenever time allowed and recorded some of whatever happened there. It’s hard to convey the space. A thin band of light circled the space from supine flashlights and glowed faintly at the top 50ft above our heads. Dust, however old, hung heavily in the silver dome, whose metal had been warmed by the day. Without revolving stars nor our phones, time smacked us in the face mad it had been left behind once we returned to the night sky.

Thanks to a detuned guitar, and the lovely voice of Tara Marshall-Tierney who shaped the atmosphere in that strange space.

Moving Stones

Noel Mollinedo


Moving Stones

It’s a process

First walk down to the water and choose them

Then you collect them in wheelbarrow

Roll that ton up a ditchy road

And unload them at a cabin.

Wash them before bringing them inside

Then arrange them.

Mark Making

Lines in the Soil

tread over and again


follow the line,
the one made before

Solvitur Ambulando
it is solved by walking

Fero Tuli Latum
to carry, to bring, to tell, relate, endure


It is solved…

with a nice view

Swimming Feels Like Home.

Cristine Posner

I’ve never lived more than a few minutes from the ocean until I moved to New Mexico and it has probably been one of the most difficult parts of living here. I’ve spent most of my childhood refusing to get out of the water, even when my hands and feet were beyond pruned. Even when life is so hectic and busy leaving no time to even see the water, I was at ease knowing it would be there whenever I needed it. I don’t quite have that same feeling living in the South West.

Swimming in the reservoir where our drinking water comes from was a strange feeling at first but the comfort of swimming won me over. I could float in that water day and night. I find more familiarity in water than I do on land. There are minor differences in the water, but even the feeling of the slimy mud beneath my feet remind me of swimming in Shark River in New Jersey when I was a kid.

On our second day at El Vado, while swimming in the reservoir, I decided I wanted to start trying to get to know the land. I swam across to the side I had not yet been and scooped up a handful of clay from the bottom. Stepping out of the water I clasped the clay in my two hands and began to walk. Letting the clay settle and begin to dry in my hands, I set off to walk around the dried reservoir to the other side. The sun baked dried clay cracked beneath my bare feet. After two and a half hours of walking in the hot golden light, I found myself back where I had began; hands numb, pruned, and covered in dried clay, my feet tender, soar, and heavy from accumulated mud. My body was sun-kissed, my dry skin had patterns that resembled the sporadic cracked clay of the land and I felt like I knew the place a little better.

(Documentation photo credit Amanda Stuart)

Musings. . .

Kylie Heikkila

“For myself I hold no preferences among flowers, so long as they are wild, free, spontaneous. Bricks to all greenhouses! Black thumb and cutworm to the potted plant!”

-Edward Abbey

But Ed Abbey!

My internal battle . . .

To love plants and flowers in openness and freedom vs. the strong desire to cut them down in their prime and arrange them!

Forget Me Not . . .

C H A C O C A N Y O N
Heat. History. Sand. Sky. Sage. Gluten. Nausea. Ravens. “Do Not Step Beyond This Point.”

E L V A D O D A M
Bones. Iced Coffee. Rattlesnakes. Mud. Wood. Indian Paintbrush. Spiders. Clouds. Stones. Water. Cabin.

Yeee-haw!

Trip 1: Part 2 -Chaco Canyon to El Vado and Bill’s (Country Bunker) Cabin.

Amanda Stuart

Chaco Canyon (via Walmart)

My presumption that the second flying swoop for supplies at a more regional temple of Walmart would be kinder upon this mountain hardy Land Arts crew, would prove to be hopelessly wrong. I watched helpless, as my campanieros circled endlessly in a morbid trance through this labyrinth of impossible consumption, fighting to keep their souls anchored.

This place messes with your mind.
Did I really need that acme semi-inflatable, reversible decoy fishing jacket and matching broncos cheerleader parachute leisure-suit with optional gaiters?
What was I thinking?

Jen and Ryan enroute to Chaco Canyon

The prize for holding fast through this purgatory madness was well worth it.
Two words…Chaco Canyon. We rolled in late Monday afternoon and set up a now increasingly streamlined camp. Words can’t suffice so I resort to imagery to convey something of the magic and privilege of experiencing this sacred place…imbued deeply with the culture of its custodians, the Hopi, Navajo and Pueblo Indian peoples of New Mexico. A World Heritage Site since 1987, Chaco is now tightly managed by the National Park Service.

Chaco Campsite

Tara, Noel and Staci hit the upper mesa

The Crew

The ruined whispers of past great cultures (over 1000yrs old) stand solidly silent in this high desert landscape, with its striking sandstone mesas shaped by wind and water and embroidered with petroglyphs. I am humbled by its stark beauty, its overwhelming sense of space, which teems with life despite the harsh climate.

The crew have been deeply moved by Chaco and a sense of wonderment resided over the camp as meals and fires were mustered. We were treated to some spectacular sunrises and sets (which got me channeling my inner Clint Eastwood) and the waxing moon gave way to a session of stargazing. Locating Antares and the constellation Scorpio got me thinking about home. It was the first time I’ve been able to get my head around the northern hemisphere cosmos.

Things begin to make sense, when you stop trying to make sense.

Part 2: Bill’s Cabin

Increasingly for me, America is a country of stunning contrasts.
From the lush Rio Grande headwaters to the arid heart of Chaco Canyon (via Walmart) and all of this within one days’ drive.

And so to Bill’s Cabin.

Nestled within what were once waterfront views of the El Vado Reservoir, (about 2 ½ hrs drive NE of ALBQ), this rustic cabin retreat owned by much respected Land Arts elder Bill Gilbert and family, became a working home base for our intrepid crew.

I experiment with traction and scale in drawings, inspired by the howling coyotes heard at Chaco Canyon and El Vado.

(Amelia in my heart, feet and mind)

We explored, got wet, unleashed some enterprising (nay balmy) ideas and to generally got to probe the boundaries of creative enquiry. I’ll let the pictures do the talking, but suffice to say a magnifico loco time was had by all, under a glorious fattening moon. Many a great meal was imbibed and fertile idea sown…. and we concluded this first Field trip on a resounding and resolute high.

‘Til Soon, campanulas XXX

Canyon echoes for HQ XXX (photo credit Tara Marshall Tierney)

The Journey

Wayne Nez Gaussoin

As I began to awake by the increasingly glowing orange dew soaked rainfly. I am trying to make sense of where I am. An increasingly loud roar comes closer and closer from the distance at a rapid pace. My heart starts to increase, it pulses at the same rate now the object that was in the distance now feels like it skimming the roof of my tent with all its muster and power. I am fully awaken now and remember I am in an alfalfa field south of the Albuquerque International Airport.

Farmland, Junkyard, Alfalfa, water treatment plant, Rio Grande river, ducks, port o potty, cottonwoods, allergies and of course the mosquitos, yes the evening attire for all, mosquitos. All of these elements are what have influenced surrounded and engulfed what is now called the Valle del Oro.

Starting out in the element with a group of only a couple familiar faces this was the beginning adventure of a group of strangers whom were about to engage in a 2 week journey together, living, learning not only each others pace but the environments we were about to explore.

During our journey there we decided collectively that it would be best to evacuate the beating Albuquerque heat and escape under the large cottonwood trees near the River to reflect, observe and learn to take serious notes about the natural world we were going to embark on. Not only the natural world but how as humans have we learned to adapt and in some aspects dominate and how we affect that as humans and Artists. Therefore like all humans before us we started with the creation of fire! Our good mentoring visiting guest Joel not only showed us the tools to staying warm and alive but invigorated our mentalities through teachings that he has learned from the ( tribe ) that he shared with us. Being who I am, it was a little hard to swallow at first judging his sincerity, which actually ended up being completely honest and actually we continued the morning practice the rest of our journey every other morning...for awhile.

As, our time there closed and it was time to move on up north
this part of the trip entered into a new world...


Rio Grande Headwaters

Visceral sound echoing through the canyon of a permeated history, calming the mind and displacing time making one feel micro to the cosmic universe. Time spent here puts a pause on constant email and social media addiction. Instead the rushing river and wind are the new ipod beats as I walk through the aspens. The fire we make at night, just to keep us warm for a bit is also the evenings Netflix choice. It is a real treat to be in such a visually attractive place. My only gripe that has been increasingly growing is...the constant annoyance of getting out of the way of serous faced ATV Users. The more time spent here and hearing the ruckus in the distance tearing through the mountains. This is a personal inner conflict, I am starting to realize. An inner battle and reminder of attributed carelessness of our connection to the land and the true appreciation of what gives us life. At the same time, I know it is fun ripping through the forest in a Jeep or ATV, using natural resources to our demand and pleasure, this is the world we have created for ourselves... When a group of us hiked up the Pole Creek trail and climbed to the top of a steep hill that over looks a massive waterfall. This definitely gave a contrasting feeling as I overlooked the massive valley and realized its immense power making feel micro. This was a fortunate opportunity to feel so small. This space allowed us to to gain a healthy aspect of the land and each other where we able to start to actually use found elements in sculptural ways. I felt that this process was a healthy way of being able to just see... and know that art is a true practice that has to be worked on continuously and changes continuously.

back south we traveled...


Chaco Canyon (National Monument)


We are not the first and we will not be the last... We are only in the 4th world.

Being a resident New Mexican, I can’t believe that I have never visited here before. I recommend this to all my NM people. This is a must it is a place that places you in a timeline of history, simplicity and beauty. It made me think of what a little ...complainer, I can be in life. Looking at all the symmetry of the precisely stacked walls and how the entire place was put together by bringing trees chopped with handmade stones and carried somehow about 30 - 40 miles away.

It made me think how much love there was for this place for so much work and detail to go into this massive place, where we would drive from Kiva to Kiva to reflect on spaces for ancient meditations. The little walking that I did in this vast area felt like I had walked for days. The sun was so very powerful showing its strenght as my little brimmed had did its best to hold back the UV’s. I feel I could go on and on about all the questions I had about this place and the curiosity of my own human DNA rooting these walls to an ancestrial past time telling stories that are whispered through the walls. This location is still puzzling archeologist a thousand plus years later. If anything.. some of these ideas might pop up in my work later...?

El Vado Lake
North East of Chaco - North West of Santa Fe / Albuquerque
Our last trip on Journey I .

In this spot, I was able to come more clear of my ideas in how my thoughts and creations started to collide with the land. On our way there we luckily ran into the man named Mike, who told us all about the Reservoir as much as he knew, and boy...most of it was over my head. CFC and what not. As I started to grasp the ideas it started to make sense to me in terms of Water Pressures and Levels.

Through the observation of the reservoir and the high desert landscape my ideas started to formulate with my own sense of curiosity.

One of two projects that I would say were of curious study was the question of ... now how do I take a nap in this blazing heat with no trees within 50 yards and only boulders to lay on. This was the birth of the Kite Camp.

Now, while I was up at the Head Waters I had discussions with Jenn Hartmann about the concept of home and one instinctually creating a space to inhabit it. The couple of tools I had with me were my hiking sticks, tarp and a couple of bungees. I had tried in numerous amount of ways to make it work but the wind just wouldn’t have it. An old Aikido philosophy that had actually come up during Joels talks was the concept of working with the elements and not working against it. Therefore, my tarp that was flapping in the wind was transformed into a kite. The tarp kept wanting to take that shape anyhow and all I had to do was figure out how to harvest the wind that would keep it up above my head and anchored to the ground. My hiking poles began to act as a steering wheel navigating the air that it would catch and all the boulders I was sitting on easily kept the back corners anchored to the ground..after that, it was smooth sailing.

I soon took down my kite camp and started to head back as it was starting to get late and I didn’t want to travel back in the dark. I was observing how dry the outer perimeters of the lake were, where it once was. The patterns of the cracks created a beautifully eerie feeling, as the hard dirt below rumbled and cracked below my feet. The concept of water has always been a mystery to mankind. It gives us life, we are constantly learning from it and often we think we are trying to control it by placing dams on it. Water is something we are always learning from. It made me think of the Ancient symbol of my pueblo pueblo. “ Avanyu” ( Tewa ; meaning water serpent). This serpent like figure is an ancient figure representing a connection to water, rain, rivers above and below ground. Growing up in New Mexico this depiction is found almost everywhere now days starting from ancient cliff walls to pueblo pottery and even mugs and t-shirts in tourist shops. I started to think about what it meant to me, as I started to draw out my own interpretation lines in the dry dirt. The area I chose was on a slight lean toward back to the reservoir. The deeper and deeper lines I began to draw as it became a slow addiction, as I am sure there was a little smile to my face like a kid drawing in the beach sand. I eventually made the lines deep enough that they started to look like little rivers to me. I decided what would the relationship if this was a performance like piece and I decided to take water from the reservoir and pour into the lines of the large drawing ( about 50ft) that ended up pouring back into the reservoir.. so I decided to try it. ( stay tuned as video should come later...)

Land Arts... I was curious how it would change my style or make me think about the approach to my work... So I tried. check back for more adventures.