Coil, (2012) carboard, invasive species

We called it 'Coil', it is about a twenty foot cable/wire/pipeline of  yellow clover, an invasive species being removed by Banff groundskeepers.   The structure was quickly designed and fabricated.  Depending on how you feel, the structure is either a kind of simple hoist to elevate what we should understand as a worthy adversary;  or it is the very beginning of a never-ending pipeline which carries the surging power of clover from one point one the country to the next.   I wonder if the U.S. would be interested in this kind of export.   It smells better than oil.

Beacon (2012) Cardboard Maquette

And then after just a few days of calculated work we had completed an eight foot tall, eight foot wide scaffold billboard of the Great Lakes.  It can be disassembled and rebuilt   in about  forty minutes, is light enough for the two of us to carry wherever we dream.   It's not the object that captivates us, but rather its disposability and portability that holds power over us. Set up in a tiny Banff Centre gallery space, the object, entitled 'Beacon', seemed clean, had intriguing shadows, but was somehow too sterile.  It needed to go on an adventure.

Thank God for the friend making capacity of Banff; we were able to enlist Sarah Knelman to video document and Carol Sawyer to generate an achingly complete photo essay of our trek.  We put on our TH&B moving shirts and gloves and with some light effort were able to chaperone the structure to a picturesque bend in the Bow River.  I was most impressed with the sound of the woods, our breathing, the slowly approaching river.

It was a tiny journey, that led to an impressive denouement.  As expected, the sign was dwarfed by the magnitude of the mountains, and quite literally swallowed by the Bow River.  In the process, the structure was destroyed; because of this, we felt as if we had completed an absurdly tiny yet essential unit of work.    The next day the cardboard was in the recycle bin, all save the Great Lakes, which were burned in a fire during a drunken blur with our fellow residency artists.  I played banjo. Ivan watched the flames with a mad glee.

Odds and Sods

So, somewhere in the process of putting together a bigger work, there was time for Ivan and I to futz around with materials and methods and media.   Ivan tends to prefer cutting into things, or cutting out things; I like taking pen and graphite and grinding them into the paper until the majority of the detail is punished into submission.   This is my understanding of artistic darkness--you don't achieve it with the pitch of the pigment or the thickness of the application, but rather through the onerous application of work.

The only problem here is that in trying to draw things that were familiar and most forefront in our discussions--the lakes, the meaning and mandate of the TH&B collective, the ever-present darkness of magpies and crows--one starts getting the feeling of being choked.  These icons and images feel stifling to complete,  regardless how we fill their guts with seeds or expose their honeycombed bellies or let their black edges curl in the sun.   These exercises just intensify the need to crack open the shell to let some fresh light in.

This work isn't unproductive; it's like yelling very loudly in a room in order to alter the timbre of one's voice.  At least that's what I tell myself.

Getting Busy

So, we decided to stick with our intentions to fabricate the original maquette, partly becuase we have the material means to do so, partly because it still feels emotionally and spiritually right to present an echo of the Great Lakes into Banff.  There is still a desire to do somethng terrible to the peice --sink it in the Bow River, burn it on a mountain, cut it to pieces and give it away as tokens for people, sing songs nearby as we smear it with ash and soak it with water.  Whatever ends up happening the truth of the matter is that we don't want this scaffold sign to be considered an object of any kind of permanence.   It is cardboard, temporary, can be re-built and reconfigured by scratch in any locale on earth, using glue or staples, a chop saw, and about two days of working time.  It can be the centrepoint for all manner of bizarre state-of-the-earth type rituals.

After feedback from the Brantford wing of TH&B, we've also been trying to push into fresh territory.  Thanks to some good reconnaissance from Ivan we have discovered a trove of plants listed on the Alberta Invasive Plants Council being dug up and thrown in compost pile in a back corner of the Banff Centre.  I have secured a large bundle of these plants and have been fashioning a long rope-like bale from them, as they lend themselves quite easily to the task.  I know there's a lot of clover and possibly ox eye daisy, maybe some kind of golden rod.   So far, web resources are inconclusive, and I still don't trust the answer of the maintenance workers.  Someone will know exactly what plants we have.  I've got a fifteen foot length of rope so far.  I feel as though I could keep making it forever.

So, the idea as it stands is to use some remaining cardboard to fab up a platform or altar or hoist to raise part of the plant-rope in the air.  I keep going back to this idea of an act of rememberance or tribute to a fallen enemy.  If we are trying to conquer the earth's territory, then we should respect these plants as worthy adversaries--they seem just as motivated and tenacious as we do. It's time we tipped our hats to our worthier opponents.  That sort of thing.



Getting Busy

(Banff, AB) August 4, 2012  Fittingly, the TH&B splinter team has been given a very spacious, and extremely hot studio in which to conduct it's planning and implementation work.  It's as if the organizers of the Studio Time Residency knew in advance that TH&B requires both space and an opportunity to sweat heavily in order to properly acheive its purposes  The mountain viewable from the 20' x 8' set of windows looms over the the team like an angry god.

The TH&B plan at this stage is to assert a silhouette image of the Great Lakes within the very bosom of the Rocky Mountains, as a means not only to assert the intentions and identity of TH&B beyond its accustomed borders, but to create a fleeting moment of transaction between the two great geographical symbols of our nation.  A kiss between giants if you will.  The structure is intended to be built using exclusively cardboard, a material that will quickly be disintegrated by natural forces.

It seems natural that this sign structure, based on scaffold signage popular in early part of last century, be erected at a scale equal to that of whatever mountain it faces.  Sadly, that would require a base area roughly two kilometers wide, and likely millions of dollars worth of cardboard cornerboard. More importantly, the team has concluded that a structure of that scale cannot be finished within the two weeks remaining in the residency.  Perhaps if the remainder of the team were here with them, such a feat would be possible.

As it stands, TH&B remains committed to the construction of a second 8' maquette, to be installed in a variety of locations within the Banff Centre. TH&B workers may also apply a program of maintanence to the structure, allowing it to erode completely within the time allotted.

Sight Seeing

 (Banff, Alberta) August 1, 2012

"We weren't expecting it at all, but sight seeing in Banff is actually remarkable!"

So said TH&B member Tor Lukasik-Foss, who along with fellow TH&B worker Ivan Jurakic have been visiting the city in order to learn more about its structures and formations.  Although their reaction to the terrain on the first day was muted (the city boasts many mountainous forms, but virtually none of them processed or developed in any way), deeper investigation revealed a trove of distinctive and indigenous objects.

"It's almost too much to take in, once you adjust your eyes and begin really looking.   You have to train yourself to be able to look past the rock formations and elk, and the majestic conifers.  Once you blot those things out, it's as if the place comes alive"

Of particular interest to the team were the hydro poles.  Although functionally similar to the poles of Southern Ontario, the team was impressed by how aesthetically varied many Banff poles appeared.

"These poles are muscular, fit, and  althogether more vital than the average Ontario pole" gushed Jurakic, "it was hard not to feel a shudder when we came across them."

The TH&B team will continue to collect data and materials throughout the week, before launching its stuctural initiatives of its own.

TH&B detects subtle differences in Landscape

(Banff, AB) July 29th, 2012.        Within moments of arriving in Banff, Alberta for an artistic residency, a splinter team of TH&B has determined that there are several small, yet discernable differences in the Banff topography compared to that of their native home in Hamilton, Ontario.

"You may not detect the changes immediately, but if you add up all the clues, it's pretty conclusive", say TH&B member Tor Lukasik-Foss, "For example, if you compare Hamilton's 'mountain' with Banff's, you'll quickly notice that while Banff's mountain feels taller, there isn't near the same level of housing and urban development on its summit.  I'm not exactly sure yet why this, but I have a hunch it's connected to the pointy quality of the summit terrain, and possibly the lack of major roadways"

The TH&B team says that this may only be the tip of the iceberg; they believe that changes may also be detected in everything from plant life to architecture, even people.

"We have experience working with infrastructures that affect urban and natural spaces" adds Ivan Jurakic, the member of TH&B's splinter team.  "So we have skills that allow us to notice details that the average Joe cannot.  We are very excited about our visit to this area."