Ecocritical Art
An independent study: 3 pieces and a whole lot of writing
"In the act of historical interpretation, we have a habit of separating our pictures from the material processes and economic desires that make them possible...we admire the art and forget the fuel" (Robin Kelsey).
Ecocritical art may be defined in many ways. The definition I am fondest of comes from a text called Nature's Nation (2018) by Karl Kusserow and Alan Braddock:
"[Ecocritical art history] reconnects aesthetic objects with their chains of production...recovering...neglected evidence of related environmental conditions that bear on politics, society, and culture" (Laura Turner Igoe qtd. in Kusserow & Braddock, 2018, pg 140).
Learn more about me, my studies, and how it all ties into my work >>>
"No Public Access"
Red cabbage ink, red beet ink, golden beet ink, charcoal ink, turmeric ink, red rock, ground shell, cold wax, gum arabic, charcoal, site-specific water. 9 x 12 paper.
Context
Glass Beach is a bay access point in the heart of downtown Bellingham, WA. It is known for its easy access for visitors by day, and a place of rest for local unhoused people by night. Bellingham's waterfront has a lengthy history of paper processing, gas plants, and landfills; in recent years, the city has been undergoing eco-restoration efforts. Most of the waterfront is inaccessible now due to it. Glass Beach closed off recently, blockaded with barbed wire and vibrant "No Public Access" signs. The clean-up efforts are worthy is celebration-- we are lucky to have a city with the resources and values to prioritize environmental health. Still, it is startling to see a place of refuge wrapped in wire, and it made me wonder: why now, in the middle of winter, when homelessness is at a high and temperatures are at a low? On the other hand, how long has the risk been known, and public silently exposed? Maybe there is never a perfect time to shut off a space of community. Maybe this is a prolonged consequences of the industrialization that keeps us from fully engaging nature today.
Concept
This part of my study focused on the Romantic (early 1800s) and Land Art (mid 1900s) eras of American art history. I wanted to represent both in this piece. The Romantic era had a focus on realism and surrealism, with detailed, sweeping landscapes. There tended, also, to be a theme of human domination over nature, fitting its time of Westward expansion. Land Art, at its core, is based in making art out of natural materials. All color and texture on the page comes from boiled vegetables turned ink, spices, wax, seashell, rock, or charcoal. The water used to make the inks was sourced in 3 places: first, as a control, my kitchen sink in downtown Bellingham; second, water as close to Glass Beach as I could get (a spot locally known as the Acid Ball); a jar from Boulevard Park, which is south of Glass Beach, and contaminated by both a landfill and an old gas plant. The different properties of the waters created slight variations in color when combined with the spices and vegetables. The idea to experiment with numerous different water qualities came from "Wildflowers and Water: Desire, Joy, and Creativity in Environmental Justice Organizing" (Underhill & Esparza, 2021).
Jessie/Glacier
It is difficult to know when the loss of ecosystems should be expected, and what it will look like. It seems obvious that the radical loss of life would be disastrous, by anyone's definition-- species extinction, all-consuming sea levels, heatwaves capable of displacing countries, the loss of snow. But loss in nature doesn't have to be loud to be transformative; and just because it is transformative, doesn't make it "bad". Maybe to you and me, but not necessarily to nature itself.
In a book called Human/Nature: Artists Respond to a Changing Planet (2008), glaciologist Dan Fagre said that watching his object of passion fade away before his eyes has not left him feeling hopeless. To him, the slow death of a glacier is also the slow rebirth of new ecosystems. The death of a glacier may one day become rivers and wetlands. Interpersonal grief can be described similarly; we dread the loss of loved ones, but when they part, traces of them are left behind. They can be found in all their favorite places and things, and, to some, maintain a spiritual presence in the lives of the living.
I wrote this poem in response to that idea that Dan Fagre laid out: the pain in anticipating and processing loss, held in delicate balance with the unimaginable continuing on. I wrote this poem honoring those feelings. The left column is about my dog, Jessie, who had recently passed; the right column is from the perspective of a melting glacier, inspired by both the words of Dan Fagre, and the eerily dry, warm winter days of this year-- maybe worth grieving, maybe not.
Jessie
Jessie is standing in the snow.
Hailing from warm, sticky air
And the sting of rubber bullets,
My girl was carried on the tune of golden trumpets.
That was so long ago.
She has more recently become
A friend of the cold
And in truth, this is what she was made for
Distant lineage from the mountains in her fur.
Who knows how she wound up
Wounded in Louisiana
All we know is she is home.
Everytime I leave, she protects it from the crows.
Jessie is standing in the rain.
She is heavy from the weight of the water
Though she is lighter than she ever has been
For time unmarked, she remains therein.
If I know anything about that old girl
She would prefer the snow
But it has been a warm year
So she stands in the rain, soaked from oval toe to triangle ear
Until,
She is no longer standing in the yard
There is no longer rain or snow
The sky has cleared
It is a beautiful February morn
And my girl is gone.
I was not around to see her leave
I suppose the beauty in being absent in death
Is never saying goodbye
Maybe she is still in the yard, leaving prints in the mud
Maybe we are both still young, and I never left home
Maybe we will see each other again, in rain,
Or snow.
The Snow (Glacier)
For millenia I am untamed
I am cold
I am itself both the world
And a god bearing its own backbone
That was not long ago.
Already I am mourned.
Not for my absence, but for desperation to prevent it
Picked at, photographed
Greed, desire, sorrow; humanity’s handicraft
My anatomy recedes
But I have much more to give!
I do not know why they weep,
For I do not have the liberty of leaving.
In the rest of all that is alive
I will forever become, reform, rejoin.
As scientists and optimists say,
Life always finds a way.
So,
There will not be snow.
But there will be lakes, refueled from drought
And all the frogs and fish and water lilies will rejoice
There will be drinking water,
In spite of the best efforts of man.
There will be greener grasses in May
And voluminous storm clouds in September;
There will be traces of me in canyons
And in rivers yet to come.
When the rain feels like a blessing,
And when the rain feels like a curse,
I am there, posthumously providing,
And for these reasons, I remain the backbone I was known to be–
A different shape, a different time,
But free.
There will not be snow.
But there will be rain for dogs
Just wanting to feel the cold again.
Symbolisms
Borders
The "Us" Dollar
Canvas mounted on scrap wood, dyed with spinach, cabbage, and beet. Details painted in green and orange acrylic. Gold metallic watercolor detailing.
...................................................................Frac pump (left border)
...........................................................People (right border)
.......................Tree stumps and an axe (bottom border)
............................................Water bucket spilling (bottom left corner)
Stamps and green detailing
Concept
The texts of this section of the study-- Decolonizing Nature by T.J. Demos (2016) and the 2023 Hayward Gallery exhibit Dear Earth: Art as Hope in a Time of Crisis (curr. Rachel Thomas)-- highlight contemporary art as a response to global environmental issues, policy addresses, and the anthroposcene. In spite of their similarities in theme, their tones could not be more opposed: Demos' writing is intensely critical of current systems of intergovernmental policy, while Thomas' curation is focused on the individual relationship with nature and healing in spite of disasters.
In short, I wanted the subject of this piece to be as versatile in tone as the spectrum these two texts create. Money represents that. For many, it is the ultimate symbol of hope, of the American dream. For many more, due to its absence or its abuse by elites, it is a symbol of disproportionate power, corruption, greed.
I wanted to comment on the ecocritical history of the physical dollar bill, as well, as it is rich with socio-political tensions. The US dollar is made primarily of cotton, an industry well-known for its abuse of humans (primarily enslaved African Americans and Immigrant laborers), as well as its abuse of natural resources, being harsh on soil quality and water availability. The rest of the dollar bill is made of linen, which is primarily sourced internationally.
The narrative balances the idea of abundance (the basket, the people, the flax and cotton fields, the grand number 250) with the subsequent exploitation of that abundance (clear-cut trees, abusing people for their labor, water-intensive industries like oil and cotton, fracking machines, the carbon dioxide emission estimate). The face of Benjamin Franklin was replaced with a mirror. The intent with this is to remind the viewer that we still live in the same world as the one in which this country began, and as Americans, we are implicated in the narrative of this nation-- for better and worse.
............................................Cap and Trade "token", representing the policy of the same name praised for its international approach at pollution management, and criticized for its inequitable power distribution (left stamp)
............................................cotton and flax (the plant that makes linen), referencing the plant life that creates this bill (right stamp)
............................................flax fields in the shape of the shading for the figure's coat (jacket of Benjamin Franklin)
Numbers
...........# of projected tones of carbon dioxide emitted globally in 2025 (serial number)
......................# of years America has officially been a country as of 2026 (dollar value)
Gold/micro detailing
........................................................generations of cotton agricultural laborers, including African American slaves, an immigrant, and a modern white man (the writing beside the inkwell and feather pen).
........................................................basket, referencing both hopeful abundance, and the laborious process of cotton collection (inkwell/liberty bell).
........................................................cotton fields (the writing beside the inkwell and feather pen).
................................a human hand, reaching, palm exposed (the feather pen).