L A N D A R T
I was once entrusted to contribute to an ambitious long term project to transform a large natural environment. Whilst insignificant in the context of the whole, from a personal perspective, these works represented an important aspect of the experience, in that they seek to reignite an active dialogue with nature, such as we likely possessed as a collective in the distant hidden past and without which, our future as a species hangs very much in doubt.
GECKO HOUSE
Made of circa 6 tons of discarded stone, each piece interlocking with the next and without the use of cement, the original idea was to construct a sphere, a world in miniature in the middle of the forest, a world that beyond the surface, would be invisible to the human eye and inaccessible to the larger predators, but that would soon be teeming with life and the drama of nature at the small and microscopic scale.
As it turned out, the stones were not large enough to support the sphere shape and defy gravity but the final form satisfied nonetheless. Like an ancient Indian flying machine or Vimana, an alien form dropped into an unexpecting environment, there is something very modern but also mythical about this piece, something true, something resonant.
STONEHENGE
At first sight, an inncocuous hill, but whose history and vast megalithic / polygonal ruins stretch back to the beginnings of humanity on the Italian peninsula; the stone circle is a gateway separating past and present, a reminder that our collective memory is miserably short. I did not name it, but rather, it was named endearingly and somehat ironically by 90% of the people who saw it. Certainly these stones have a mysterious power. As we began arranging them, I had placed myself between three of the largest blocks and was overwhelmed with a nausea that eased only as we began to increase the spacing thereof. We still have no absolute certainty in respect of the true purpose of Stonehenge, but from my brief experience with the positioning of these rocks, there is clearly some form of energy in play. I had thought of aligning the stone circle with the rising of the sun on the solstices / equinoxes, but time was tight and the costs of a gigantic excavator, considerable. In the end, it took us 3 hours to create something that may not endure through the millenia, but might just remain in place beyond my brief lifetime.
BALLERINA DI FLAMENCO
When a small holm oak overlooking the central piazza prematurely gave up the ghost, I purposely cut it at the base, the thought to hopefully find a life for it beyond death, the alternative being to cut it into logs for firewood. I didn’t expect it to take me two years to find its calling, but good things come with a little patience.
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Stripped of its bark, naked to the bone, but supremely confident, the numerous points of contact with the ground creating an optical illusion of levitation, the ballerina di flamenco expresses an uncanny femininity and dynamism. Death, in the case of this ballerina, is a moment of liberation; Detached from its roots, it moves from place to place, exploring new relationships with its surroundings, adding new perspectives; a second life or immortality of sorts if you will.
ASSEMBLY
Assembly marked the playful beginning of a research into the collective, of society, equality, fraternity and friendship against a backdrop of increasing individualism, narcissism and depressing homogeneity.
Together with la ballerina di flamenco and two stone assembles Micro & Macro, the works inhabited the little piazza, adding certain disruptive harmony, a dynamism, vitality and soul to a space whose traditional architecture, whilst resonant and reassuring, was calling out to be flamboyantly populated, to be humanised to a greater extent.
Whether appealing or otherwise to the aesthetic of the thousands of staff, partners and guests who passed through the space, the works compel us to interact with them… from children hopping from one log to the next whilst adults used the same logs to rest and take in the view; human beings eventually using structures that the little creatures, with their natural, instinctive curiosity, had colonised from the first moment.
These timber works, whilst no longer performing the main purpose of their existence are nevertheless alive on so many levels, reacting to the seasons and the elements, changing colour, texture and mood, creating infinite plays of light and shade; day and night, dawn and dusk, rain, sun, mist and snow, the works offer an ever-evolving narrative to accompany the ebb and flow of the little piazza. Growing, diminishing, changing shape and configuration by design or by accident, Assembly is democratic and accessible, a celebration of diversity and the fleeting transience of existence.
