Open from October 2011-2012
I am interested in uncovering unseen patterns in the environment. Through quick ad hoc spatial experiments or slow incremental accumulations of micro-elements, I try to give form to personal readings of a place. Spontaneous collections and vestigial paths fascinate me. I am inspired by ant hills and coral; pennies in fountains and unchecked bathroom graffiti. Marking a place is a human tradition, regardless of whether the place is one of significance or simple frequency. These are slow collaborations of strangers over generations. The story behind each element is singular; the overall experience is shared.
Like a barnacles or Spanish moss, this installation depends on the framework of its environment. The branches of a mature live oak create a hanging armature for thousands of feet of twine. Even in strident orange polypropylene, the individual lines are visually lost into light and shadow. Together though, they create a curtain marking an implied threshold in the landscape. The translucent field of color fills the space between a single twisting branch and the slope of the ground below. It catches the wind and sunlight, registers the movement of the limbs, the shadows of passing clouds and over time, the growth of lawn grass.
The bottom of the scrim is a dashed line. Short lengths of steel rebar weight the strings and rise to suggest an arch over a well trodden but otherwise unmarked path. The curtain is double walled to mark the diminishing thickness of the branch in a vertical extrusion. In it are the visual markers of the unseen: the imagined edge of an outdoor room, the pull of gravity on the lumbering branch and the roots that mirror it below the surface of the soil.