Land Art in its most basic sense is the manipulation of natural landscapes for artistic effect, using both natural materials (rocks, water, earth) and/or man made elements (concrete, metals), in such a way that the man made element is part of the landscape itself, rather than an introduced medium using the landscape as its host.
The movement rose to prominence in the mid sixties, and reflects the mixed idealism at the time, with the artists practicing in such a manner not aligned under any particular philosophical banner, often holding conflicting principles. The sixties were a particularly turbulent period of the twentieth century; mass protests were taking place many western countries, particularly of note are France, America and Britain, with an ideological shift away from capitalism, imperialism, and the conservatism of the first half of the century. The prospect of nuclear war was a very real possibility, and countries were still involved in major, unpopular wars, Vietnam being the most notorious example. With ideology causing conflict, even if it was a campaign for unity, and so the mixture of a utopian vision, coupled with destruction and terror caused a paradox which would ultimately reflect within the movement itself.
While it could be assumed that land art is concerned with environmental sustainability due to the medium, this was not always the goal of all the artists; the act of manipulating the landscape itself is editing natural elements, even if it is with sustainable materials, creating a moral conflict between awareness raising artistic statements and whether or not this process would undermine the declarations being made due to the destruction within the action.
This issue could be countered by the usage of land reclaimed from industrial businesses, or temporary words designed to erode over time, with nature reclaiming the work. Other artists implemented a ‘leave no trace’ philosophy, creating temporary installation before removing them entirely, repairing any marks left to the landscape.
These were not the only conflicting issues, with American and European land artists clashing over their economic attitudes towards their practice, Richard Long accusing the Americans of creating ‘true capitalist art’ (Andrews, 1999, p215) due to their buying of land and machinery, as well as reliance on money to be an artist at all, in comparison to what he described as his own ‘thoughtful view of nature…using ideas, walking, stones, tracks, water, time etc in a flexible way’ (Andrews, 1999, p215). In contrast to this admiration, the American artist Heizer declared the atomic bomb to be ‘the ultimate sculpture’, proudly asserting that his sculpture Complex One could survive an atomic explosion (Gabriel, 1982, p48).
While artists may not have been ideologically aligned, there were certain thematic qualities which were shared between them, which while not as decisive as a manifesto or declaration of intent and alignment, still unites them under the umbrella term land art.
The most immediate of these is the direct interaction between both the artist and viewer, and landscape, conducted in person. While records and photographs were recorded, this was not the art itself, in the way a painting can be a representation of a landscape through its medium. The lack of a studio or gallery in which the work is constructed is also important, as it meant the work was outside of the art world’s most foremost circles, although the artists were often sponsored by patrons. It also led to discussions about the reassessment of presentation of artwork, as well as ownership of work.
Land Art relating to the sublime
To investigate land art in relation to the sublime, work would ideally be assessed on an individual basis, as to understand the artists’ intent as well as the nature of the work in terms of material matters, location, etc. This process remove any generalizations, however with such a varied group of artists who are not grouped together, there would always be exceptions to any statements.
It is possible however, to contrast the ideas that define the sublime to the ideas that form land art, even if the artists’ intent is not to have evoked feeling of the sublime as part of the work itself.
This paper would hold that regardless of the form or goals of any piece of Land Art, it can never evoke the feelings of the sublime, as defined by any theorist.
The sublime moment must always have the duality of provoking beauty and terror. The twin formats that this state can be achieved through are certain cases of nature and abstraction, as both move human understanding beyond comprehension, evoking feelings of awe due to an altered comprehension of reality, triggered by the perceived form.
Land art, while using nature, often in an abstract way, should in theory be a perfect example of art work evoking the sublime. However, the manipulation of land by an artist means that the alteration of nature has taken place, regardless of the form of the artwork.
The overwhelming power of nature is therefore compromised, as a human can control and change the course of nature, undermining its power, even if the work can be reclaimed over time. This is important, as it removed terror from the emotions of the viewer; there is a clear element of control.
The scale of work can evoke feelings of beauty and awe; however there is always the interference of man within the scheme of the work, even if it is to draw attention to a natural, sometimes fearsome element.
To illustrate this point, I will use three examples which could be argued as sublime, explaining why each of them falls short of this category.
Case Studies
The lightning field (above) by Walter De Maria is an installation in Quemado, New Mexico, constructed in 1977. The piece consists of 400 steel poles, laid out in a 1 kilometer grid, each pole standing 67 meters apart, with a height staggered between 458 and 815 centremetres, depending on the land elevation, so the tips are all of an equal height. The visibility of the piece varies depending on what time of day it is viewed at; dawn and dusk casting the most dramatic light and shadows, whereas at mid day the piece practically disappears as the sun is directly overhead, however the landscape is still dominating due to the spacing and form of the installation.
The piece is designed to attract lightning, with the poles acting as attractors, and the sight chosen due to its regular lightning storms.
In practice, there is a lack of actual strikes; storms only pass overhead on average for three days a month, with strikes rare within this timeframe.
However, examining the work on its intent, the theoretical experience of a large area experience multiple lightening strikes within a small area of land sounds like it could provoke a sublime experience; lightning proving beautiful yet fearsome, particularly in the isolated location that work is situated in.
This situation could ultimately provide the opposite experience; with lightning raining down overhead, the feelings evoked by its beauty would be dominated by feelings of terror; a deadly force provoked by man would cause alarm and panic in anybody within viewing distance of the work. It would also be the lightning providing the sublime experience, as a bi-product of the installation, making the experience of nature sublime, rather than the work itself. If the lightning is not present, then neither is the potential for a sublime moment.
Wrapped Coast (above) by Christo & Jeanne-Claude (1968) was an installation which, as the name suggests, involved the wrapping of 2.4 kilometres of coast line, with height varying from sea level to 26 metres on some cliff faces, using 90,000 square metres of erosion control fabric, secured with 56.3 miles of polypropylene rope. This huge operation involved a large team of experienced rock climbers and art & architecture students. The operation was funded entirely by the artists, and lasted for ten weeks, before the material was all removed and recycled, leaving the site in its original state.
Christo & Jean-Claudes’ reasoning behind this and all of his pieces of work is that of pure aesthetic enjoyment, saying that “we will build because we believe it will be beautiful.” (Pagliasotti, 2002).
This is the reason the work does not fall within the boundaries of the sublime, although, like the lightning fields, this piece should be utterly within its realms; cliffs, the classically used personification of the state, are beautiful yet fearsome in their structural form. They remain beautiful when wrapped, with their form and shape insinuated by the fabric. Because of their scale, they remain fearsome and therefore sublime, however this is due to their original form, characterized by nature. The act of wrapping highlights beauty, rather than fear, and due to the power asserted over nature by wrapping, undermines the posed threat, meaning that the objects fall into the artist’s aim of making something beautiful.
My final example is New York City Waterfalls (above), by Olafur Eliasson, 2008. Four man made waterfalls, varying from 90 to 120 feet tall, were installed at various sites around New York City, running for four months. Made from common building materials which were later reused in line with the aims for minimal ecological impact, water from the East river was collected in filtered intake pools under the water surface, to avoid the possibility of marine life being introduced into the system, where it was then pumped up to the top of large scaffolding, before dropping across a large trough and finally into the water, creating the effect of a waterfall. In his artists statement, Eliasson acknowledges the waterfall as a sublime object observing that they ‘convey a feeling of powerlessness, or insignificance’, however his aim for the artwork is not to evoke the feeling of the sublime; he continues by saying that he believes the waterfalls can ‘strengthen our relationship to the landscape, while enhancing our feeling of being sensing subjects (NYC Waterfalls, 2010).’ As a naturally occurring phenomena, a waterfall can evoke beauty with horror, however in a mediated environment, the element of danger disappears; water pouring from scaffolding, while impressive in height and power, can never duplicate the surge of a river cascading ferociously over a rock face, carving into stone with its sheer force. Also its positioning in a busy city reduces its dramatic impact amongst manmade objects and buildings, reducing a man made waterfall to another feat of engineering.
Conclusion
I have chosen the selected examples because they are pieces of work that use natural phenomena that when occurring in nature, are capable of leaving a sublime state within the viewer. The Land artists have created beautiful, thought provoking, awareness raising pieces of art, however none could be categorized as being truly sublime, as the moment man mediates nature successfully, he undermines it, removing the fear, as it is the unconquerable element, or the efficient cause, as Aristotle called it, that gives the object its fearsome essence. This is not a criticism of the work; none of the mentioned examples were setting out to try and evoke the sublime, and when examined on another axis, the work could no doubt be recorded as a resounding success. However the purpose of this paper was to remove Land Art from investigation into the sublime, as ultimately man can only edit and add to nature, never recreate its awesome power.
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