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Andy Goldsworthy |
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FINALLY, A LOT OF PHOTOGRAPHS Grouped throughout the galleries are large multi-image panoramic photographs of temporary cairns Goldsworthy constructed in the general vicinity of, and in conjunction with, the exhibition's venues. These are much more representative of Goldsworthy's artmaking. The "West Coast Cairn" was constructed at Pigeon Point, roughly 600 miles north of San Diego. (Remember, I said "general" vicinity.) Goldsworthy used local stone; or "difficult stone;" as the wall label describes it. The piece was assembled during low tide and was subsequently destroyed by the waves of the incoming tide. Thirteen photographs document the event.
The "East Coast Cairn" was constructed at New Rochelle, New York; roughly 10 miles from the Neuberger Art Museum. This cairn, too, was constructed at the water's edge during low tide. In the gentle conditions of its Long Island Sound location, the incoming tide does the piece no violence. It simply swamps it. Thirteen photographs document this work and its situation.
Another twelve photograph series presents "Prairie Cairn," the third of the exhibition-related temporary cairns. It's located in the Conrad Environmental Research Area, Grinnell College, Iowa; a few miles from the Des Moines Art Center. In this area of preserved wildness, the prairie grasses obscure the piece in summer; while the winds and snows of winter expose it once again, as might the occasional prairie fire. The images of Prairie Cairn show this process over time; including the passage of a small prairie fire deliberately set by the artist for the benefit of his camera .
In all cases, the photos in the Goldsworthy exhibition lack distinction as photographic art. Goldsworthy's effort, not the photographer's, is the message. Because of this lack of pretension, they could hardly be more effective in documenting Goldsworthy's art and making it sense-able to many more people than would ever see it in situ. This is especially true of the coffee table books.
And while the museum's photographs are much larger than they would ever be in a coffee table book, this bigger is not necessarily better. It's better for filling the walls of the museum. But in a museum, there's none of the intimacy with an image that comes so easily when sitting on the sofa at home, absorbing an image, and allowing the mind/imagination to, in this case, take a walk in some unspoiled place, pile up some stones, carve shapes in mud, or toss sticks in the air; then see the outcome as though with one's own eyes. With "Andy Goldsworthy: Three Cairns," one is dealing with a kind of seeing that is very different from looking at paintings. Everyone knows the paintings in a museum are the real thing; not photographs of the real thing, and not an accommodation the artist made as a means of filling the museum with works that are no better than kinda-sorta what his art is at its best. For Goldsworthy at his best, the books are a better source than this exhibition, which only demonstrates that something sad and problematic will likely happen when an artist whose creativity is rooted in particular places in the wilds of nature is asked to plant his work for a few weeks at a distant museum in an unfamiliar environment, and to then go away. END |
