Joseph Wheelwright, Pine Man (2006), 24' tall. Courtesy the artist & Alan Stone Gallery

A dreary October afternoon, the pallid sky hidden under a stained glass tunnel of roadside, scarlet burning bush, mottled sassafras, and a canopy of golden honey locust teardrops; mystery is steeped in the air like fruit-infused vodka. Sculptor, Joseph Wheelwright’s Tree Figures at the Katonah Museum of Art, in Katona, NY have a similar effect—dizzying, somber, jovial and mischievous—a concoction of haunting hallucination and sobering truth: that tree and man share the same breath. In the spirit of Dr. Frankenstein, Wheelwright ‘gives birth’ to his sculptures by carving anthropomorphic features into trees, stones, bones, and other found-objects, collected while walking through woods. He communes deeply with the essence of these forms until he hears a heartbeat, a perceived pulse that appears to then breathe fresh life into his art. artes fine arts magazine

J. Wheelwright, Pine Man, detail

Pheremones of crushed dried white pine needles and freshly sawn wood sap waft under my nose, as I approach the largest of Wheelwright’s tree figures on exhibit on the front lawn. A towering 27’ Christ-like figure, with arms out-stretched, appears to float on air. The crest-fallen head reveals a face with deep, sad eyes, a pronounced nose and chin, and lips that speak the language of anguish. Atop the head, a crown of thorns is sculpted from a dense root ball, whose very features seem to lash wildly in the autumn wind. The hips are concave, as though sagging under the strain of grief, and looking up into its face, I am overcome by a feeling of fear that the structure will stumble and fall. Encircling the tree figure, tension from tip-to-toes pulsates from every angle of the work.

Wheelwright was raised in the natural splendor of western Massachusetts’s Berkshire Hills, a remote area known to harbor countless secrets and legends of New England’s old-growth forests. He expressed a fear of trees as a child, often clinging to the lower trunk to escape being snatched up by the clawing grasp of its branches. After graduating from Yale University’s School of Fine Arts, Wheelwright moved to a commune in Vermont, using sticks and small stones as his medium—finally able to release himself from his childhood fears. Surrounded by endless stands of trees, Wheelwright embraced his presentiment, converting it into creative curiosity and began to identify individual characters and personality traits in the natural forms around him.

Smoke Jumper, detail (2007), Bronze cast from hornbeam and fir trees 16.5x7x6’

Expressive movement is what he looks for, when walking through the forest selecting specimens for his sculptures: the appearance of a bended knee, a twisted torso, or swaying arms. Once in the studio, he often turns the tree upside down, visualizing a newly- conceived anthropoid, where the intricate root system becomes the head, shoulder, armpits, and where, sometimes, fingers and the trunk can metamorphose into legs and body. Wheelwright is not a purist, sometimes transplanting disparate parts, like grafting the ‘head’ of a hornbeam tree onto the ‘body’ of a cherry tree. Instinctively, the artist knows whether a tree is male or female, engendering anatomically correct traits. Lifting the bark, peeling layers, and adding tissue, Wheelwright is intimately familiar with how to create the feminine form. Other figures are more androgynous, mythical, or centaur-like—each tilting to the side of eccentricity.

In the courtyard behind the museum, I sense that I am not alone. My eyes drift up from the ground as I meet the gaze of another 30-foot figure, camouflaged against a weeping Norway spruce. Suddenly transfixed, I sense a connection with this man-made object that is surprisingly empathetic. I am reminded of other creatures of science fiction-past, reclaimed from discarded and unwanted part and yet, assuming human emotions and drives. Here, for a few moments, I sense a desire to communicate on the part of this gargantuan creature, and I find myself listening, watching…and connecting.

Oracle (2008), Pine tree, 26x14x7’

Sublimating scientific observation into artistic expression—evidenced in the relationship between man and nature—is an age-old impulse. An important aspect of that desire to meld man and nature can be found in Wheelwright’s Tree Figures. His sculpture, exploring the biomorphic ‘evolution’ of man from trees, calls into question human superiority in the natural order of things, and promotes greater sensitivity for the fine genetic line that separates all living things. “There’s no question that we are descended from the same organism,” Wheelwright says. “Clearly they are our ancestors. Human hope and design was inspired by trees. The question is, when did we split apart?”

By Michelina Docimo, CSBA, Contributing Writer

“Joseph Wheelwright: Tree Figures,” through May, 2012 in the Marilyn M. Simpson Sculpture Garden and on the South Lawn at the Katonah Museum of Art, 134 Jay Street (Route 22), Katonah, NY. For more information: www.katonahmuseum.org or (914) 232-9555.

Joseph Wheelwright’s Website: http://www.joewheelwright.com/index.htm

Michelina Docimo is a certified sustainable building advisor and writer. Her focus is on sustainable or “green” architecture, landscape, design, and the representation of nature in art. Her writings have appeared in ARTESMagazine.com, Culture Catch, CT Green Scene, D’Art International, and other industry publications.

Visit her blog http://michelinadocimo.com/myartobiography

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Above: Alex Maclean, Las Vegas, Housing subdivision built out in the desert, from his solo exhibition, ‘Vegas-Venice’  

Alex Maclean's, 'Vegas-Venice' at ERES-Stiftung, Munich, Germany

  Having traveled through much of the United States and parts of Europe, Maclean documents the changing landscape with stunning aerial images, traversing historical, as well as physical boundaries. He has earned a reputation by perceptively documenting the changing nature of the landscapes below him—from agricultural rows to city grids. The images he gathers serve as symbols for a larger matrix of ideas. On a superficial level, Maclean’s photos are spell-binding studies in geometric shapes and patterns. They might be initially dismissed as studies in form over context. But the power of the image and a more detailed analysis of his subjects draws the viewer back to read, inquire, and interpret the altered landscape more carefully. Only then does the viewer encounter the leit motif of Maclean’s work: the impact of the hand of man on his three-dimensional surroundings over the course of a fourth dimension, time.  

Alex Maclean, 'Vegas-Venice', Dense island settlement inside the lagoon is connected to the mainland by causeways

  Using the sun to cast light and shadow, Maclean captures the changes brought about by both human intervention and natural events, far below him. While hovering over a site in his fuel efficient Flight Design CT light sport aircraft, Maclean says his methodology is actually circular, rather than a linear approach to history. “My strategy with a subject is to rotate around it, while taking in the regional and cultural context. I then shoot at four different angles—vertical, oblique, horizontal and bird’s eye view,” says Maclean. “Different angles and shifting lighting can produce very different results when shooting the same subject, exposing years of stories.”  

It is human nature to take a chance; the American dream was built on it. Today, under the ominous cloud of global economic crisis and a wide range of environmental disasters, the dream seems more a mirage, not only in the U.S., but in every corner of the world. Maclean asks us to consider whether las Vegas and Venice, cities built by serendipity in unlikely and hospitable environments, (and staking their reputations on the game of chance), are destined to collapse in much the same way?  

Alex Maclean, 'Vegas-Venice', Las Vegas, single-use residential subdivision block devoid of any urban amenities

 The oldest casino in the world was established in Venice, the city of masks. Casinos once served as centers of gambling, dance, and decadence–a perpetual carnivale, as it were, where aristocrats and merchant classes alike were known to mingle. A similar portrait can now be painted of America’s, Las Vegas, the city of sin. Removed from reality, whether by desert or lagoon, both Venice and Vegas are suffering the consequences of excess and neglect of precious resources. Climate change is causing sea levels to rise world-wide, while Venice, sitting for centuries on its crumbling sub-structure of ancient foundations and pilings, is slowly sagging into the Adriatic Sea. Preservationists are taking measures to preserve the protective wetlands that surround the city, as well as to conserve some of the most beautiful art and architecture in the world. Vegas’ lights, too, are dimming, as real estate markets go bust and excessive water use to irrigate golf courses and maintain green lawns in a desert climate, is literally drying up the most precious of the city’s resources.  

File photo of debris at an abandoned Las Vegas construction site after economic down-turn

After photographing Las Vegas and Venice from the air, Maclean discovered in his studio that he had difficulty sorting the photos, noting that, “there were some images where even I had difficulty distinguishing which city was which. I started to see how the cities were coming undone. Side-by-side, I saw ‘waves’ of water and sand, serpentine canals and paved roadways, all emerging from fragmented lands. How can two such distant landscapes and cultures seem practically identical? I love land and am witnessing how history makes things valuable; how places are becoming memories; how we’ve become environmental refugees seeking shelter. I can’t walk away without taking a chance and hoping that what I do matters.”  

Maclean’s solo exhibit, Vegas-Venice, set to open at ERES-Stiftung in Munich, Germany, on September 7th, 2010, is an exploration of two very distinct landscapes in distress, the similar patterns that emerge, and how time changes our perception of what truly exists.  ERES-Stiftung is a non-profit organization that encourages a collaboration of the arts and sciences to better understand and communicate in an increasingly complex world. Rather than simply asking questions, ERES-Stiftung emboldens society to be part of the solution. www.eres-stiftung.de  

by Michelina Docimo, CSBA, Contributing Writer  

Michelina Docimo is a certified sustainable building advisor and writer. Her focus is on sustainable or “green” architecture, landscape, design, and the representation of nature in art. Her writings have appeared in ARTES Magazine, CT Green Scene, D’Art International, and other industry publications.  

Visit her blog http://michelinadocimo.com/myartobiography  

Over the past 33 years, Alex Maclean has exhibited his work in galleries all over the United States, as well as Canada, Belgium, France, Spain, Italy, and Germany. He has been the recipient of: the CORINE International Book Award: For OVER: The American Landscape at the Tipping Point, 2009; Boston Society of Landscape Architects: Award of Excellence, 2006; American Academy in Rome: Awarded the Rome Prize in Landscape Architecture for 2003-2004; The American Institute of Architects: Citation for Excellence awarded to “Taking Measures Across the American Landscape,” 1997; The American Society of Landscape Architects: Honor Award in Communications bestowed upon “Taking Measures Across the American Landscape,” 1997; National Endowment for the Arts: Design Grant, 1990-1992; among a host of other honors. Some of his public collectors include: Banque Nationale de Paris, Centre Pompidou, DeCordova Museum, Chase Manhattan Bank, Bank of America, Citibank, Fidelity Investments, Goldman Sachs, Museum of Contemporary Photography in Chicago, and J.P. Morgan.  

Alex Maclean  

www.alexmaclean.com

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“Sustainability is a topic of our time,” Sophia Gevas, SHU’s gallery director, says with conviction. “We can no longer ignore the environmental challenges our world is facing. These problems are real and there are real solutions that are both beautiful and quantifiably which can make a difference in our quality of life.”  

above: Exterior Facade & Courtyard of the General Theological Seminary, NYC
Architect: Beyer Blinder Belle Architects & Planners. Photo Credit: Fed Charles
  

Follies Kinetic Sculpture Design for the Stepping Stones Children's Museum, Norwalk, CTArchitect: Beinfield Architecture PC

 The exhibition contains hand sketches, plans, photos, and video of four architecture and planning firms making strides in sustainability: Beyer Blinder Belle Architects and Planners of New York City; Beinfield Architecture of Norwalk, CT; Centerbrook Architects and Planners of Centerbrook, CT and Faesy-Smith Architects of Wilton, CT. The selected projects encompass all types of architecture styles and uses–from living space, to educational, worship, and recreational projects. The common thread is brilliant sustainability.  

“Architects are most proud of their finished works, but I wanted to include their hand drawings to show how an idea is born and fleshed out. Everyday we see, live in, and walk through the finished product. The thinking that goes on behind the design is just as impressive,” says Gevas. “When we have a group of local school children come in, view the works, and participate in an analysis, it is important to help them understand where to start – with an idea. Something connects with the brain-to-hand-to-paper movement that can lead to brilliance.”  

The hand sketches show site analysis, sun angle studies, an inventory of deciduous and evergreen trees, slope of the land, and locations of bodies of water. Sustainable design is a discovery process that engages the architect to think about resources that already exist on the site, how the space is used, and imagine solutions that are resourceful, functional, and beautiful.  

Fountain, Exterior Courtyard, Lock Building, Beinfield Architects. photo: R. Benson

 Beinfield Architecture PC, for example, has designed three kinetically-moving, musical sculptures for the proposed renovations of the Stepping Stones Children’s Museum in Norwalk, CT. Elements of sun, water, and wind energies are illustrated through whimsical sight and delightful sound, teaching children how these natural resources are harnessed and converted into power, where society can live more harmoniously with nature in a built environment. The Stepping Stones project is scheduled to be completed in December 2010 and attain LEED Gold status.  

Exterior Courtyard of the Lock Building, Norwalk, CT Architect: Beinfield Architecture PC. Photo Credit: Robert Benson

 Before U.S. Green Building Council’s LEED (Leadership in Energy & Environmental Design) program existed and became the organizational protocol system of qualifying sustainability standards, there were movements by architects and designers to design with the environment in mind. Another of Beinfield’s projects, the Lock Building of South Norwalk (an historic lock factory constructed in 1856) was condemned and destined to be replaced with a parking garage. Built in response to the industrial revolution, then abandoned after the lock factory closed its doors, it was then converted into studio spaces and inhabited by local artists. As artists moved in, so did chic cafés and boutiques. But, the building remained in derelict conditions, an eyesore within sight of profitable, waterfront development. Saved from the wrecking ball by public action the building was later purchased by a private buyer. The Beinfield architectural group was then contracted to redesign the existing building. Lofts were converted into office spaces, but the original brick walls and some of the original factory furnaces and other equipment were restored in place to become sculptural forms that enhanced the assigned conference room areas. Beinfield used existing copper pipes and smokestacks to create water fountains in the exterior courtyard.  

“Artists are pioneers in neighborhoods needing attention,” says Bruce Beinfield. “Real estate developers often follow artists’ migratory paths to scout areas for their risky business ventures. The Lock Building is an example of this. As technology evolves, it alters the way we can live and use space and, in turn, changes the appearance of the New England industrial cityscape.” Over the course of its history, this building has had three distinctive uses. New materials and technology allows us to re-purpose older spaces to accommodate changing lifestyles and activities within a space.  

Technological innovation is also critical in the search for new ways to create energy. Both Beyer Blinder Belle and Faesy-Smith Architects exhibit projects in which innovative technologies were employed to analyze the application of geothermal and solar energy, resulting in smaller carbon footprints for both urban and residential environments. However, all the architects in the exhibit stress the importance of a super-insulated building envelope to make these technologies more functional and cost effective.  

Beyer Blinder Belle, a firm renowned for its historic preservation of sites like the Empire State Building, the Beacon Theater, and Grand Central Station, emphasizes both sustainability and aesthetics as the core of their mission to curate the restoration of iconic buildings of important social value. Architect, Maxwell Pau, explains the specific issue of historical preservation in retrofitting existing buildings to be more energy efficient: “Every project’s focus it to provide people with an environment of beauty and comfort, of contemporary relevance and timeless endurance. We look first at a building’s current condition and uses. Then we think, how can we make this better, not only for the singular structure and its occupants, but for society as a whole and for those that will use the existing building long after we are not here.”  

Exterior of Historical Wilton Home, Wilton, CT. Architect: Faesy-Smith. photo:Pam Ronleau

 One of Beyer Blinder Belle’s projects on exhibit, the General Theological Seminary, in Chelsea, NY, is a 260,000 square foot building that spans an entire city block. A new geothermal heating and cooling system will reduce the building’s carbon emissions by more than 14,000 tons. The 850-ton geothermal system is one of the largest geothermal projects in the Northeast. Three years of engineering studies were necessary in determining optimal well locations and system size. Immediate energy solutions included improving the insulation factor and integrity of the gothic windows.  

Paper Airplane Metal Awning for Shade, Centerbrook Studio,Architect: Centerbrook Architects & Planners. photo: Jeff Goldberg

 Faesy-Smith Architects took a similar approach when retrofitting historical homes on a smaller scale. Projects on display include the Weston Historical Society’s Archival and Exhibition Space, a private residence in a historical Wilton neighborhood, and a new house construction in Southern Vermont located in a historical neighborhood. “The median house age is 35 years, built in the early 1970s before energy codes. This leaves tremendous opportunity to bring the existing housing stock to higher standards,” says architect, Thomas Smith. “Just as agencies monitor conservation of wetlands and other native forests, energy conservation can be enforced without compromising unique design.”  

Michel Pariseau of Centerbrook Architects and Planners believes that the most sustainable action we can take is to build a structure that will last. “Of course, we should use technology in our designs, but even the most technical solutions won’t endure human indifference.” Centerbrook designed the Wolf Law School of the University of Colorado, Boulder, in an “L” form. Constructed of local sandstone and limestone façade with a red terracotta roof, the building’s long, narrow form take advantage of Colorado’s sunny days for light and warmth. Simply by orientation, daylighting, and window placement, Centerbrook was able to reduce heating and electricity needs by 40%. “The shape, not technology, was involved in making this building sustainable and comfortable.”  

Energy efficiency, material selection, community interaction, and aesthetic relevance are a few factors taken into consideration when creating sustainable spaces. “The complexity of being green requires a collaborative approach,” says Gevas. There is more than one right answer when aesthetics come into play. The Art of Sustainable Architecture is an introduction to sustainable imagination, the possibilities that exist in facing and responding to some of the most difficult issues of our times.  

by: Michelina Docimo, Contributing Writer  

The Art of Sustainable Architecture runs through March 4, 2010.  

Sacred Heart University: The Gallery of Contemporary Art, 5151 Park Avenue, Fairfield, CT 06825  

Gallery Hours: Monday – Thursday, 12 – 5 pm & Sunday, 12 – 4 pm, Telephone: (203) 365-7650  

http://artgallery.sacredheart.edu  

Beyer Blinder Belle, 41 East 11th Street, New York, NY 10003, Telephone: (212) 777-7800  

www.beyerblinderbelle.com  

Beinfield Architecture PC, 1 Marshall Street, Norwalk, CT 06854, Telephone: (203) 838-5789  

www.beinfield.com  

Centerbrook Architects and Planners, 67 Main Street, Centerbrook, CT 06409, Telephone: (860) 767-0175  

www.centerbrook.com  

Faesy-Smith Architects, 523 Danbury Road, Wilton, CT 06897, Telephone: (203) 834-2724  

www.faesy-smith.com

Grain Storage Huts in Nigeria. photo courtesy Patricia Thrane

“It takes a village to raise a child,” is the oft quoted ancient African proverb when discussing education and building community. Partners for Architecture, an architecture firm in Stamford, CT, that bases its mission on this core value, flew into action when approached by UNICEF (the United Nations Children’s Fund) in October 2008 to create one master plan for eighty schools to be built across the borders of four civil-war ravaged African countries: Republique de Guinea, Côte D’Ivoire, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. The LAB4LAB (Learning Along Borders for Living Across Boundaries) project objective is to ease conflict by creating safe places of community education and social activity to stimulate development and interdependence between the countries. A goal easier said than done, Partners for Architecture’s role was to translate this utopian concept into a real, physical solution within six weeks time.

Nigerian Children by Adobe Hut. photo: P. Thrane

Stephen Grasso and Rainer Schrom, co-principals of Partners for Architecture, Grasso invited me to tour their newly-renovated, sustainable studio space. Once a factory plant that manufactured shims for tanks during World War II, the studio’s smaller conference room was originally a vault that stored sensitive paperwork. Now, the original weathered brick walls display the firm’s current drawing board sketches and construction documents, ranging from country clubs, to high rises, to cultural art centers. The sleek work space is a pangaea of openness and light, allowing for a liberal exchange of ideas among the seven architects.

“There are two types of people in the world,” says Grasso, offering an espresso, “the Oppressed and the Oppressor. As a group of architects of different backgrounds in this office, we like to believe that how we design, creates positive cultural effects. We realize our actions and the choices we make have consequences, not only on the local natural environment, but on the psychological landscape on a global scale.” As architects and creative thinkers, Partners for Architecture did not associate with either the oppressed or the oppressor; they served to bridge the gap with a vision and a leap of faith into a cultural darkness. Design, as they had known good design to be, was thrown out the window and they welcomed this freedom-to-reinvent as a breath of fresh air. Inspiration, they believe, comes from no preconceived notion.

Students traditionally sit in a circle, a design element in the new building. photo courtesy UNICEF

Faced with many challenges of designing schools in the heart of the African jungle, it took one to two weeks to fully understand the task at hand, recalls Schrom. “Any of our sophisticated construction methods that involve machinery simply would not work. We learned to build literally with our hands. There was no running water, no sanitary system, no electricity, no paved roads.” These were their limitations and it was liberating.

Perhaps the most critical realization for the firm was the fact that Africans live outside; their lives revolve around the landscape and they see architecture as shelter from the sun. African architectural images tend to consist of adobe-walled, circular grass-thatched humble huts, camouflaging into the earth’s brownness. A history riddled in poverty and war, for centuries Africa has succumbed to western and eastern influences in religion, politics, economics and architecture. Most devastatingly, though, has been the recent civil war–creating tension between brothers, alienating neighboring countries and leaving millions of indigenous peoples uprooted and oppressed. Diverse landscapes of tropical rainforests, open grass plains, and thick mangroves have been destroyed through the actions of paramilitary, slash and burn practices. Rich in diamonds, gold, minerals, iron ore, cocoa, and coffee, these countries’ lands have been mined and exploited and left barren.

Partners for Architecture’s design for a master plan school community was to assist UNICEF in lifting the oppression. Given a plan that prepared the site by clearing trees, Partners for Architecture rejected it, saying they would not contribute to a design that further encouraged deforestation. Instead, they developed a beehive-like layout of hexagonal shaped pods dispersed between the trees, allowing for a flexible plan that could be adapted to different locations and easily expanded upon.

Students using exterior hallways. photo courtesy UNICEF

“We have designed the pods to consist of three sections. Safety was a critical design issue. The first access area is the most publicly-used space. Then, we move further into school administrative offices and the computer labs, and finally the most private classroom areas, with the youngest group of children are sheltered by the inner-most circular space. Africans tend to teach their children in circles rather than rows. The hexagon shape leaves an opportunity to build community and share borders,” explains Schrom.

All the hallways are open-air exterior spaces. The building materials are native wood, metal, and adobe. The roofs are solar equipment-ready, so that panels can be installed and wired to provide the electricity for the computer lab. Rather than covering the classroom ceilings with a metal roof, Partners for Architecture proposed incorporating vibrantly colored hand-woven African fabrics strewn over the rafters that evoke an unspoken history.

Both Grasso and Schrom agree that dialogue with the African people was critical in planning the design. “We welcomed their opinions and needed their knowledge just as much as they wanted ours. We worked with a local African architect who was able to explain the simple building method to the labor force. The locals participated in all phases of the project from the conceptual to the physical construction.”

The finished school uses local materials, labor and is designed with climate condition of the country as a principle consideration. photo courtesy UNICEF

In addition to the physical structure and aesthetics, Partners for Architecture strategized how the buildings would function. Because there was no running water or sanitary sewer system available, dry latrines were proposed to avoid disease. A hybrid of two design ideas, the lavatories are located in dark interior spaces. Screen covered chimneys allow for light but prevent flies from entering. The human waste is then collected, composted, and used as fertilizer to re-introduce nutrients into the soil. In a most basic sense, even the design of the latrines is a system of giving back and making the soil fertile again.

“As architects, we are trained to look at negative or void spaces that buildings leave behind and we attempt to carve out a special place. We believe that positive buildings in communities won’t be vandalized because their function is clear. We find satisfaction in designing public buildings because they have a larger impact on community and society. In our corner of America, what is most important is the real estate market and property value. People build homes for the next buyer rather than tailoring their homes around their lives. A home should be an investment in life rather than the market. Everyday is a struggle to find a meeting place of cultural differences. We think where the sun meets the horizon is our common ground,” reflects Schrom.

by Michelina Docimo, Contributing Writer

Construction on the schools began in February 2009 and continues to progress. Currently, five schools in the Republique de Guinea have been completed, providing safe havens of education and communication to promote peace, a process that never ceases.

Partners for Architecture is located at 48 Union Street, Stamford, CT 06906.  For inquiries regarding design, planning, LEED certification, cost feasibility analysis, and corporate or community lecture opportunities on sustainable design, please call (203) 708-0047 or visit www.pfarch.net

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Kathleen Patricia Thrane is a painter, documentary photographer, avocational archaeologist, and activist. Trained at the New School of Social Research Parson’s School of Design, Thrane has lived in Africa, the Far East, Asia, and Europe documenting poverty, discrimination, politics, and culture. Thrane’s biography and sample works can be viewed at: www.alexideas/website/kpthrane/artist.html  email: thrane@optonline.net

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(left: Clifton Monteith with a hand-crafted lantern)

“My work is not about the easiest way of working. It relates to the ancient Shinto concept of spirit being in all things – wind, water, stone, wood. I have grown to believe that consciousness is vested in our work and translates to the experience of others who participate with the work when it is done, whether I know them or not. That my work’s process is slow bothers me not as much as if it were hurried and embodied less consciousness.” – Clifton Monteith

Monteith earned his Masters degree in painting from Michigan State University in 1974 and began his career in New York City as an illustrator and graphic designer. Craving simpler freedoms after years of city life, he returned home to Michigan’s mystical woods and waterways to begin a new career as a furniture maker. He saw in this art a way to connect with the experience of loss by creating cherished heirlooms that can be passed on to future generations. Monteith reflects, “Sometimes the things that are taken away from you give you better focus. Furniture lives with you and can add grace to daily life. We can breathe life into pieces that we hold dear to our hearts, entrusting a piece of ourselves to family, an admirer, or even a stranger, with a memory that persists time. ”

Shuffling through snow spindrifts one morning, he found a cache of willow wood and was inspired to make something from it. From these found materials, Monteith crafted his first chair. Early gallery interest led to others and he was soon shaping more willow and other natural materials into objects of utility and beauty (right: back, ’Mimi’s Chair’).

In 1993, Monteith was the recipient of the Japan-United States Friendship Commission Fellowship Grant through the National Endowment for the Arts. It was during his six month residence in Kyoto, that he came to fully understand the spirit of the Japanese people. Monteith visited one garden and shrine each day—a glimpse into centuries past—amazed that they had been spared the ravages of allied bombing during the war, and equally amazed at the precision with which these sacred places were maintained. He recalls that, “In these gardens, in a moment of quiet reflection, I was reminded that what we produce in our lives will continue to affect the lives of others, well beyond our own time.”

Continuing his work at home in Michigan, Monteith is renowned for his custom-tailored, intricately willow-woven chairs. Involved in the creative process from conception, he says, “There is a sense of gratification of knowing the tree, the source of my material, and coming back to the same tree year after year, and seeing it produce new branches. My entire process is organic. I do not work from drawings. The form of the wood dictates the form of the chair.”

No steaming or staining of the willow is involved in the process. Monteith bends the willow branches while they are still green and follows their natural curvature, never forcing its flexibility. He purposefully chooses to work in willow because of its ubiquitous nature.  He notes that, “It’s found everywhere, except Antarctica, growing in wet bogs and sand dunes, and is a host plant to more insects than any other on the face of the earth.” (left: Moonviewing Chair)

Monteith’s chairs become a vehicle to experience nature. The experience is cocoon-like–embracing and transforming—offering the illusion of diaphanous flight, as if with dragonfly wings, to anyone seated in one. Constructed of a parallel double surface, the structure forms a moray pattern, making them appear to move, even as they sit empty. The second layer is also functional, creating the supporting spine and adding strength.

As the chair takes shape, Monteith studies its form and function and then names them appropriately. For example, sitting in the low-angled Moon Viewing Chair creates the experience of lying on the grass, gazing up at a starry night sky. The chairs are simultaneously delicate and robust, functional yet comfortable. Monteith laughingly compares the feel of the willow ribs against the back to the beaded wooden seat covers so popular in New York City taxi cabs!

Monteith reflects on a memory of September, 2001: “We were preparing for a show at the Museum of Art and Design in New York City that was set to open on September 12, 2001. I was to exhibit the Sunrise Awaiting chair there. On our way to New York City, I and a friend decided to stop at Niagara Falls to take some photographs. Had we continued as planned, we would have been at Windows on the World in the World Trade Center for breakfast on September 11th. Because of that event, the show did not open until the following spring, and I have kept this chair for my own. Timing,” he ponders, “is sometimes about waiting.” (right: Felt-wrapped bowl by Monteith in collaboration with felt artist, Jorie Johnson)

In addition to his sculpture chairs, Monteith creates lanterns, tables, serving carts, bed frames, and bowls; always respecting his natural materials, the time needed to do it right and the organic nature of the creative process. His palette of ingredients typically includes: willow twigs, hemp cloth, urushi lacquer, silk gauze, wool, leaves, and fermented persimmon tannin. His works are included in the permanent collections of, The Art Institute of Chicago, The Museum of Art and Design in New York City, The Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts, and The Smithsonian’s Cooper Hewitt Museum in New York City; as well as corporate and private collections in Japan, Europe, and North America.

by Michelle Docimo, Contributing Writer

http://homepage.mac.com/cliftonmonteith/Menu6.html

monteithc@centurytel.net

Photos contributed by the artist

Detail, Yale University Art Gallery, 1953, Architect, Louis I. Kahn. Photo by Andreas Kornfeld

Driving through New York’s scenic Hudson valley on her daily commute to Westport, Connecticut’s Arts Center, Terri Smith, Director of Visual Arts, always finds inspiration in the sinuous rivers and harmonic hills along her route. But, she often noted inharmonious forms rising like rough-honed pillars from the landscape. “My eyes stumbled upon these apparently clumsy, concrete buildings that seemed so incongruous in their natural surroundings,” she told me. “I couldn’t resist the urge to stop, stare, and wonder: “What is happening inside?”

Smith’s shock and curiosity is exactly the reaction that Brutalism provokes–an unexpected surprise and full engagement of the mind. Originally a European architectural movement that began in the 1950’s in response to Modernism’s sleek lines and machine-like precision, Brutalism’s (in French, béton brut, for ‘raw concrete’) run was brief, as it peaked in the early 1970’s.

Orange County Government Center, 1967, Goshen, NY, Architect: Paul Rudolph. Photo by Andreas Kornfeld

Brutalist forms are what remain behind when rough plywood concrete footings are pulled away. Bearing all the scars and traces of the already-distressed plywood used in molding their walls and floors, these buildings are distinguished by their stacked-block appearance, harsh angular outcroppings and contrapuntal recesses, bold geometries, cantilevered balconies and thick cornices. Often standing defiantly amidst more modest and well-mannered urban structures, Brutalist buildings typically appear top-heavy and in need of re-proportioning. Vertical ribs of molded concrete, hammered and chipped entirely by hand to create a fractured vertical maze of light and shadow, often adds to the imposing coldness of the design.

The so-called ‘honest’ materials used in Brutalist construction are revealed in their raw form–exposed concrete, walls of glass, exposed steel girders and brightly-painted utility ducting. This honesty in material design serves as an aesthetic medium–the message being: form and function follow man and nature. Architects of the day saw an interrelationship between how the materials were used, how people contribute to the life of a building and ultimately, how a building plays into a utopian urban plan.

Detail, David Brooks, Tracks II, 2009, concrete, wooden saw horses

The Westport Arts Center’s exhibition, Aggregate: Art and Architecture – A Brutalist Remix, re-creates this utopian experience anew, through a collection of sculpture, photography, architectural models, videos, and slides illustrating the history of Brutalism and its persistent influence on more contemporary works. Smith notes that, “I’ve identified artists from around the world who continue to work with this honest mindset and materials. Brutalism as a design element is complex to understand and so the exhibit engages viewers; moving them through time; asking them to become more familiar with the movement’s place in history; examining the work and envisioning how it might influence future design. For example, I thought it was necessary to keep the slides in their original medium, showing them on screens to recreate the feel of the technology of the time…even the humming sound of the projector!”

Visitors to the Arts Center are greeted by a mirror placed in a window that reflects their own image into the background of a neighboring building that evokes Brutalist influences. Smith points out that, “They unknowingly become an active element of the exhibition, because people were key players in deciphering the utopian message of that period.” Also at the entrance stands, Tracks II, a site-specific sculpture by David Brooks. A set of swerving tire tracks imprinted in concrete, take the visitor on an imaginary, careening ride through the post-modern era of the Brutalist landscape , hinting at the hard-edged realities that the show just beyond the doors will offer.

Foreground: Jo Nigoghossian, Hole, 2009, concrete, glass, cardboard, wood, wire conduit; wall: Alterazioni Video, Astronave Madre (floorplan), 2008, silkscreen on paper. Photo by Terri Smith

“The reality of the utopian vision often went astray. A good example of this occurred in Italy.” says Smith. “I included several pieces of Incompiuto Siciliano, by the Italian artist group, Alterazioni Video, in the exhibition to demonstrate how Italian architects would intentionally design flaws into the plans of public projects to delay their construction and extort money from the government. These incomplete projects became triumphant ruins of modernity. But,” she points out, “the problem became the solution. In an attempt to stop corruption, the Sicilian government will be transforming these derelict spaces into public parks by allowing native landscape plants, such as fig trees, meadow grasses, and cacti to overrun the incomplete public works.”

”Dispersed throughout the gallery, in park-like fashion, are Fawn Krieger’s drawings, Spirit Park and Social Architectures; Jo Nigoghossian’s concrete abstract sculptures; Andreas Kornfeld’s, 360 Fujiroid and a vintage ’60′s documentary film by architectural critic, Reyner Banham uniting to create a virtual utopian landscape. Our perspective on the relationship between man and environment is challenged by this exhibit and our perception of the ideal is put to the test. The Westport Arts Center’s latest exhibition courts an interaction between the art and viewer that transcends aesthetics.

It becomes a quest for truth.

by Michelle Docimo, Contributing Writer

Aggregate: Art and Architecture – A Brutalist Remix, runs through November 22, 2009.

The Westport Arts Center is located at 51 Riverside Avenue, Westport, CT

www.westportartscenter.org

See the photography of Andreas Kornfeld at: http://www.360.a-kornfeld.com/gallery1.html

At The Bartlett Arboretum, Stamford, Connecticut

October, 2009- January 1, 2010
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Unlike the other seasons, autumn takes its time in arriving. Almost overnight, spring seems to pop into bloom after the yellow crocus peeks out from under the frost. Summer rushes in, never allowing enough time to fully embrace its warmth and extra long days. Inevitably, winter arrives, as it always must, with a biting wind, and then lingers much too long.

But autumn creeps in on silent paws. Its colors unfolding ever so slowly, shifting from deep greens to flaming, brilliant hues of red, orange and yellow; before the transition to russet, tawny brown and umber signals the end of the season’s long goodbye.

Trees seem to animate on the grounds of the Bartlett Arboretum

Kathy Hirshon’s exhibit, Spirited Trees, opened in early October at the Bartlett Arboretum in Stamford, Connecticut, just as nature cast its splendid veil of color over the New England landscape. Each work shown was a journey to deeper self-discovery for the artist; but more importantly, a celebration of life’s renewal through art and the natural world.

The Bartlett Arboretum has long supported the work of artists, with its annual plein air auction and gallery exhibitions. This year, artist, Kathy Hirshon, was asked to present a one-woman show featuring a group of works inspired by the arboretum setting, itself.

Hirshon responded to the Bartlett’s landscape–the trees and surrounding acreage–but also to the people she saw there. As she reflected on her show, she mused, “This work belongs to everyone, I felt honored to share this message of hope through the Arboretum; a place that understands the science of trees, how to tend to them and how to nurture growth.”

4-panel group, 'Storytelling', pigmented wood

Entering the Bartlett foyer, a collection of small (2-1/2” x 3-1/2”) traditional watercolor and ink paintings grace the walls. They are mostly monochromatic: earthy browns, beiges, taupes, grays, and greens. These smaller pieces should be examined closely so not to miss the dancing, swaying limbs, the skeletal structure of the trees, and the apparent joy in each brushstroke.

'Tending', 12" x 24" pigmented wood panel

Inspired by the Bartlett’s pollarded groves and spectacular Eastern red cedars, London plane trees, and weeping Norway spruces, Hirshon weaves universally-inspired stories, myths, and fairytales into her works. “Our stories”, she says, “should be preserved and disseminated to future generations as part of our collective history.”

There is a complexity in composition and meaning in Hershon’s works, much like the woodland trails of the Arboretum, themselves. Using various mediums–gold-leaf foil, silk, suede, and linen burlap–she offers a new visual dimension that seems to mimic nature itself. There are intricate wood carvings whose porous surfaces absorb earthy wood stains and subtle streaks of greens, blues and reds, enhancing the material’s naturally-occurring rings and knots. From this melding of color and form, spirited and often quizzical faces begin to emerge. The countenances borne of the swirls of grain seem rounded, elfin and cherubic, creating a sense of calm and peace in an enchanted forest; and some with eyes closed appear to capture a moment of dreaming. One panel for example, was rendered by Hirshon as gentle and unobtrusive, as if to soothe a child whose delicate spirit might be afraid of the dark.

Each piece is named to represent the paths that she, as an artist and, in her view, everyone walks: Receiving, Arriving, Being, Learning, Tending, Thinking, Creating, Holding, and Listening–tales of life and living. “We must realize that society is an ecosystem that relies on the past to define its future. We are a community. My last panel, Listening, at once represents our channel to nature and to ourselves,” she points out. As Hirshon considered her body of work, she recalled what Confucius said: ‘The strength of a nation derives from the integrity of the home.’ “We are all connected;” she points out, “our fate and the fate of the trees are one.”

by Michelina Docimo, Contributing Writer

all photographs by the author

Printmaker, Michael Van der Linden of Stamford will be creating a limited edition series of the title pieces, along with selected other works from this show. These 12”x 24” images will be printed on archival watercolor paper with a porcelain surface using archival ink. They are priced at $150/each. Inquiries should be directed to the Bartlett Arboretum at admin@bartlettarboretum.org or to the artist, Kathy Hirshon, at kathyhirshon@yahoo.com.