| Try to imagine encountering
a large conical mountain. On one side of the hill is a dense forest of
virgin pines and tall redwoods. It creates a majestic landscape of green
wilderness; completely uninhabited and undisturbed. However, beneath
the shallow layer of wild flowers, roots, and soil there is a deep layer
of granite, copper, and aluminum. On the other side of the hill is a
large strip mine that has slowly dug its way into the hill in search
of the minerals known to be there. It creates an equally powerful image
of the mountain’s true composition; completely solid and inorganic.
Which side of the mountain would you choose to stand on?
I think this a good example to help illustrate what my art is about.
What it boils down to is basically the relationship between man and nature,
and more
specifically, the function of architecture in our natural environment. Hence,
one may think that it’s a juxtaposition of opposite concepts, but what
I’m actually interested in is finding the meeting point between the two
ideas. For me, this meeting point is in the effect that each of these macroscopic
systems has on an individual at a microscopic level. I want to focus on the individual’s
relationship to the structures man creates, and then to nature and the structures
that she creates. It doesn’t necessarily have to be on the magnitude of
climbing Mt. Everest, or looking up to the top of the Petronas towers. As an
individual, I think it is much easier to appreciate things in a scale proportionate
to myself. At this scale, the experience is much more intimate, and the relationship
to a space becomes more apparent and focused. My focus being on the individual’s
relationship to these systems; what I’m interested in is the effect that
one person can have on a space or setting and then the reflexive effect that
that has on the individual.
Over the past year, all the work I’ve made is somehow exploring this junction
between two worlds that are existing simultaneously on one Earth. We get such
little exposure to architecture and architectural theory, yet we spend so much
of our lives living in and being surrounded by human engineering. We learn so
much about nature and natural beauty, yet we spend such little time there. So
often I hear people talking about how great nature is, but I think if people
had a better understanding of architecture and engineering, then they would not
be so opposed to its proliferation. I know a lot of people have an appreciation
for certain buildings and are often touched by a structure’s beauty, the
key is to find the same beauty in the individual organization of the parts that
make up the whole. Because like I said before, it is easier to relate to something
on a more intimate scale.
John McPhee once wrote that wilderness was now so definable, and so demonstrable,
it could be entered in the sense that one enters a room. While the concept of
nature may be dwindling under the stress of the increasing human presence in
the world, they both still exist in a complex dichotomous relationship. I don’t
think anyone would argue that there is no need for architecture, and I’m
sure no one would argue that there is no need for nature.
1000 miles away from the mountain, a family has a picture of the forested landscape
they visited on vacation hanging on their wall. Behind that wall is a network
of copper tubing and a layer of aluminum flashing, made from the minerals mined
from the other side. Is what’s on one side of the wall any more natural
than what is on the other?
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