Around the Center

Artwork and Photograph by Troy Nickle

During my residency I created an intervention titled, “ Around the Center,” which was made in the Superior National Forest on a large stone along a path between the Ranger Station and the Vermillion College.

I started to contemplate the symbolic nature of this work and could relate it to when a stone is thrown in the water and ripples expand outward around the stone’s impact in the water. The stone’s impact creates energy and this energy radiates outward. This to me this also represented the energy created by the artists and scientists when they were able to learn about each other’s disciplines, collaborate and share common interests in nature.

From the creation of this work I began to consider what is at the center of my experiences in this unique place, and what surrounds this center? It is really absurd to try to define this center as a fixed thing because reality is continually changing from moment to moment. All phenomena are impermanent and therefore subject to change. What once was at the center of my experience has since dissolved with each new moment and as I have begun to intellectualize it, it is no longer what it was. Things begin to disintegrate and suddenly we realize that they do not exist in a fixed manner or exist independently but rather they exist in relation to, and in dependence on everything and are therefore interconnected. At the time that I am writing this, the ephemeral artwork that I have created has since devolved back into the environment and is no longer recognizable as an artwork.

The materials that I have used to create this work came from the needles of a White Pine and mosses that were collected from the shady forest floor. These materials could not exist without the elements of nature in balance creating the right conditions for the vegetation to grow. Without the glaciers that deposited this rock some 10,000 to 12,000 years ago I would not have a site to create this work. The White Pine grows in this area because of the well-drained soil and cool, humid climate of northern Minnesota. These beautiful trees provide food and shelter for numerous animals including, forest birds, squirrels, lynx, and wolves. It also provides cool damp shaded areas for a variety of vegetation like mosses and mushrooms to grow. Many people are drawn to this area to experience this unique beauty. Out canoeing on the water or sitting by the lake there is no need to worry about deadlines or being late for a meeting.  Somehow living in the moment and the simple experience of traveling on water by canoe, setting up camp, cooking dinner by fire and enjoying the sights and sounds of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness feels liberating. When we can stop, breathe, and listen to what is around us, we are more open and receptive to the world around us.

While I was in Ely, I learned that an issue central to many people in the area revolved around the developments of a new mine. The town seemed to be polarized between those that supported the mine for their livelihood and those that were worried that the mine would affect the environment by bringing changes to the area that were damaging and irreversible. Many people depend on the area for a variety of things in order to sustain a livelihood. The mining companies depend on the valuable minerals in the bedrock while people who are supported by tourism depend on the landscape and wildlife for recreation activities such as canoeing, backpacking, dogsledding, fishing and hunting.  I began to think since everyone depends on the land and it’s central to the health and livelihood of everyone, isn’t preserving the landscape in everybody’s best interests both sustainably and economically? As Chief Seattle said, “Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect.” The development of the mine would permanently alter the landscape; affect water and air quality and take hundreds of years to fully recover. Does this outweigh the benefits that the mine will bring to the community? Are there other ways of creating jobs that won’t negatively affect the environment? And what are the prevailing attitudes that justify the development of a mine in this area? Aldo Leopold writes, “We abuse land because we regard it as a commodity belonging to us. When we see land as a community to which we belong, we may begin to use it with love and respect.”

As a stone strikes the water and creates energy, this unique residency allowed for artists and scientists to bridge creativity with observation and research.  While residing in Ely, Minnesota during our residency we learned of the complex issues regarding this unique community and have grown from our shared experiences. From our varied perspectives we are creating new energy to move forward to inspire others to be concerned about the future of our planet, to become aware of our environment and to bridge gaps between the divisions that separate us.

Photograph by Lawson Gerdes

A photo of artists Anaya Cullen (left), Troy Nickle (center) and Katherine Ball (right), at Sigurd Olsen's cabin near Ely, Minnesota.

Benjamin Ceramix: Clay From The Mountains (Canyons of the Ancients National Monument)

While working as an Artist in Residence at the Canyons of the Ancients, I often make trips to the McPhee Reservoir, a beautiful winding road that unveils clearings of snowy mountain ranges, several giant snakes of water, and green fields spotted with shadows of passing clouds. The site is characterized as the largest and most funded archaeological excavation site in the country's history. Hundreds of artifacts such as patterned pottery, yucca sandals, and effigies made by the Anasazi were found there and catalogued for the cultural preservation of our ancestors. One day I decided to venture into the shallow valleys of the reservoir a day after rain. I came across the remains of a stream, which sat like a silent mud road assembled with geometric, tightly-fit earth blocks. The tessellation of mud formations seemed to resemble the keyboard of a computer and sank with gravity as the trodden path of my feet created a sculptural novel. I lifted a dried panel the size of a laptop of mud to reveal a bottomless cauldron of clay—dark grey with tan fine grain grog, sticky, malleable, and cold. After shoveling a mass of substance from the ground with my hands into a large Ziploc bag, I walked back to my truck with the bag of clay on my head. I combined this clay with dry elements from other areas of the land (dried mud, sandstone, fine gravel, some bugs), collected near areas of sacred views and holy ancestral places. From this unique mix manifested several small, intuitive sculptural beings. The photos are below, and the pieces will be getting fired in a local artist's kiln this weekend (updates to come). The large piece is named RainChild until it emerges from the kiln, and will then maybe be given a new name. It is about 60 lbs, 2', and is made with a Cassius Basaltic clay that will fire to a dark brown or black. I made it during the first week of my residency after absorbing the ancient architectural beauty of Mesa Verde. It resembles the cultural spirit of the pueblo community long ago—the head and face reminiscent of a sandstone tower built into the cliffs. I plan to make several more pieces from the clay found in this area while I am here. At the moment, I am also creating an animation of my sculptures that features a digital technology project that was made via collaboration with Vince MacMillan, an excellent archaeologist of the Anasazi Heritage Center and BLM. I expect it to be done soon and am excited to share it with you all!! Cheers, Ben

Canyons of the Ancients National Monument 2013 Artist in Residence: Ben McCarthy//Benjamin Ceramix

Hello all!
I have been enjoying all of your updates and glimpses into the different biomes/residencies that Aldo & Leonardo have organized and what has come of it—looking forward to how it evolves. What a phenomenal opportunity!! I am truly thankful and honored to be a part of this project. My artist residency ended the final day of September, and I am still happily living and working in the area to where I was transferred. I plan to continue my creative study of this beautiful, hidden area that is home to the largest and most abundant archaeological site in the country. The experience of shadowing and camping with the other artists, biologists and archaeologists of the Anasazi Heritage Center and the Bureau of Land Management was unique, informative, inspiring, and motivating. It is as if to have been let in on an ancient secret that I will ponder for the rest of my life—given the gift of an eternal creative fuel, which I have continuously found within nature, the lives and artwork of ancient people, and modern-day habitation of the planet. The project's emphasis on working with the organizations that maintain the land today sparked ideas of the history of humans in wilderness, our mark, the current state of how nature is governed, and an urgency for conserving its ecosystem, culture, art, and resources.
Days of hiking through vibrant olfactory foliage (especially green due to monsoon season) of sage and juniper, standing next to sandstone and mud-masoned giant towers constructed by ancient human beings known as The Ancient Ones (or Anasazi), approaching a clearing to find a massive faceted triangle of carved stone with archaic doodles melted through the purple desert rock varnish to reveal glowing orange petroglyph stick figure gatherings amidst floating spiral symbols (that may actually resemble ancient semiotics for water). Migrating black and orange tarantulas crossing the road, each traversing its own journey to somewhere, silent geological patterns stacked to create a castle disguised as a cliff, from where points of erosion within the wind-sculpted stone walls emerge natural statues of heads and faces that speak with the skies and think for centuries. Then there are places where one can see where, long ago, Mother Earth opened her arms to the Ancestral Puebloans and gave them cathedral-like caves in the mountain canyons on either side of the valleys of Mesa Verde. The ancient people cooperated with the earth, survived off of its growth, and built small cities inside the cliffs. To see such natural, complex, ancient structures is simply phenomenal, and the view provides an Escher-style visual puzzle majestically camouflaged into Nature. I sat across from it for hours, deep in thought and admiration, while carving a chunk of red and orange sandstone into a 3-dimensional hieroglyph with a piece of obsidian I found near Yellowstone.
The artistic process of analyzing, distilling, and creatively articulating the substance absorbed from the Canyons of the Ancients takes time and an open mind, and I am only beginning to translate the miles of geological formations, ghostly cliff dwellings, and ancient geometric pottery patterns into pieces of my own artwork—sculptures, pictures, and poems that resemble my intuitive, cognitive response. I found myself particularly inspired by the surreal scenes and creatures within rock art, and the "T shaped" doorways/windows found often in Ancestral Puebloan architecture.
In addition to creating a number of sculptures from clay that I dug from the mountains (which are currently drying and will be fired soon! {updates to come}), I began to decode the things I was seeing each day through the countless digital photographs I took during our exploration of Wilderness. One thousand, high definition photos of a landscape still cannot begin to explain the sense one gets when entering the labyrinth of Nature. In an effort to encapsulate the time, spirit, and language of the Canyons of the Ancients, I developed many new techniques: one called geokaleidoscopics, with which I transform my photography into fractal mosaics that unfold into intricate meta-textured beings of nature and ancient architecture. Colorful visual patterns form from simple pieces of sky, plants, or rocks. The sculptural images provide a snapshot of an interactive story (enhanced by the "zoom" feature) with an intergalactic quality, while still giving the viewer a perspective of the terrain, colors, sites, and artifacts of the place. I have also included a photo of the completed Anubynx sculpture that I made before the residency, which I posted a photo of pre-fire a while ago. The Anubynx and several other of my handmade, large-scale clay sculptures experienced a material metamorphosis and teleported into a tour of the digital landscapes depicted within my pictures you'll see below. They had a blast and will definitely visit again!
A big, glowing "THANK YOU" to Grant and Peggy at the Colorado Art Ranch for all of your kindness and support, to everyone at the Anasazi Heritage Center and BLM for your welcoming hospitality, interest and great conversation, and to everyone involved with the Aldo & Leonardo Art + Science Collaboration who is contributing to make this something great!!

-Ben