The circle of red logs was my first deliberate attempt to evoke ambiguity, uncertainty, questioning. Some immediately recognize it as a memorial to the Native Americans who lived in these hills, others simply see it as a red complement to the green of the garden, others don't know what to make of it. That's okay.
Marc Rosenquist's bronze sculpture, added this summer, serves a similar purpose, because its shape is ambiguous. What is it meant to depict, if it does depict anything? The ambiguity, I hope, moves the mind from a simple appreciation, to curiosity, at least, and perhaps toward questions of meaning.
Ultimately, I'm aiming for a sense of mystery, perhaps even for an encounter with the unknowable, or an echo of that. I realize this is not a very fashionable notion, except in limited circles, in current days.
Photos of bark paths by Ragnar Naess
Not fashionable at all. Come to my lit classes. I've been teaching for 8 years now, and each year the students get less imaginative, more tied to things, to thinking complicated, to lacking wander and awe. I don't think these qualities have vanished, but they are being unnaturally selected out. Uncultivated. I hope to do more of what you're doing in my space, but my space is so small that I have to be careful of approaching a garden gnome effect.
ReplyDeleteI like Marc Rosenquist's sculpture. Somewhere between a beehive and a shell. In fact it's similar in shape to those wonderful shell shaped chocolates produced by Guylain in Belgian. Is it chocolate James?
ReplyDeleteSeriously though, it's a beautiful bronze and sits well in your garden
I did not realize they had meaning beyond being an attractive addition to the garden, and as you said a nice compliment to the green.
ReplyDeleteBanjamin,
ReplyDeleteI think the electronic media (starting with television, perhaps...) is a cause of the lack of imagination (dumbing down) in our culture. All is surface appearance. But, then, haven't we been hearing that message, in some form, for centuries? I really don't know.
Rob, thanks. As you noted, it's bronze, not chocolate.
ReplyDeleteLes,
ReplyDeleteYou're right, of course. They shouldn't be there is they don't work in a practical, visual sense. They don't have any inherent meaning. But for me, a cigar isn't just a cigar. That's just my disposition.
To be honest, I should note that this post is from last September. I apparently never pressed the "Publish" button.
ReplyDeleteThen, James, you are very much in the right circles, as I think many of us reading your exquisite posts do appreciate mystery and ambiguity in the garden. I love both sculptures, and they do sit very well in the landscape. Great to see you back, Liisa.
ReplyDeleteLiisa, it's comforting to hear from a kindred spirit. I've never been to Sweden, but I think the Nordic countries hold great mystery and wonder. I have been to Iceland, and will never forget the extraordinary landscape there. Full of unseen beings...
ReplyDeleteJames,
ReplyDeleteVery interesting post. Kind of glad it showed up in March! I think you have been successful in creating a sense of mystery.
Mystic and mystery, both necessary to a happy and complete life. The dumbing down is sort of sad if looked at in that way. Perhaps it is more of a sharing with the masses, but the vocabulary could use some raising! Your new sculpture is divine, as is the red log shrine. :-)
ReplyDeleteFrances
Sculpture is one of theose things that seems so difficult to get right and I have been meaning to post about that for some time. I think we bring our own selves to these things. And that is what you are allowing in your garden.
ReplyDeleteBest
R
Michael, Thanks.
ReplyDeleteFrances, I was thinking of the rather low level of the gardening media in this country. On the positive side, I can recommend Andrew Keys Radio Garden podcast on the Horticulture magazine web site as one of the most exciting and creative developments in garden media in a long while. It's fabulous! Listen to it if you haven't:
ReplyDeletehttp://www.hortmag.com/horticulture-radio/radiogarden-episode-2-obsession-2
Robert, those logs came from a Walnut tree that fell over in a storm. They've been in a line, now a circle (and spent one winter in a pile). Let's hope that's the last move. Of course, they could just disappear some day.
ReplyDeleteYour red logs are well-sited and beautiful. I place objects in my garden too James - there is something 'necessary' and evocative in the practice. For me it's about placement: adding something that 'fits', despite its alien or otherworldly nature and it's about breaking the expected landscape with a new gesture. It's also a chance to see the garden as a place of speculation and play, not just as a collection of plants.
ReplyDeleteFaisal, your remarks remind me of Derek Jarman's garden at Dungeness, a comparison I frankly hadn't thought of. I know what you mean by "necessary." Almost a compulsion to put "that" there. Speculation and play, yes. Perhaps even suffering, anguish. Do I go too far?
ReplyDeleteI think perhaps a garden is the perfect place to add a little ambiguity. That hint of the unknowable is exciting and stimulating, although the bronze sculpture just looks delightful to me, as if it has found its perfect home. A little provocation, perhaps a little mystery, creates magic. I love your red logs.
ReplyDeleteNo, it's not too far to say that suffering and anguish, being part of the natural world and of our lives, can be found or represented in the garden. There 's beauty in stoicism, restriction, meagre resources, just as in abundance and free-choice there is ugliness. We forget that murder, conquest and rivalry are happening, unmonitored, in the garden, that autumn ( or fall ) follows summer, that a garden is a place of drama, not just soap opera. And yes, Derek Jarman did something new when he reminded us that underneath our soft flesh, there are hard bones...Dungeness doesn't make me depressed though - and I don't feel that was Jarman's intention. I find it delightful and it makes me pause and it evokes a sense of wonder. I like Arte Povera too.
ReplyDeletePlantaliscious, I like your words--ambiguity, provocation, mystery, magic. Glad you like my red logs.
ReplyDeleteFaisal, I like your words too. You're a preacher (in a good sense of that word).
ReplyDeleteMy father's identical twin brother and his eldest son, my cousin, are both preachers...perhaps I'm following in the family tradition.
ReplyDelete