For years strange shapes have been appearing in the endless fields around Kansas, courtesy of local and internationally renowned Land artist Stan Herd.
Praise has been heaped on the artist for his enormous images of still life or local historical figures, such as Kiowa Chief Satanta, rendered directly onto a canvas supplied by Mother Nature. Earlier this year he was even commissioned to compose an image of Kansas State’s new quarter design in a field as part of the launch celebrations for the newly minted coin.
The quarter design commission reflects what appears to be a growing interest in an artform that lives up to the saying ‘bigger is better.’ Last year the Metropolitan Museum of Art exhibited work by British artist Andy Goldsworthy on its roof overlooking Central Park. The work, entitled Andy Goldsworthy on the Roof consisted of two monumental, organic domes of wood and stone, inspired by ‘the immediate surroundings of Central Park and its architectural setting.’ The same year the Park became a living gallery for the much-publicised work, The Gates, by Christo and Jeanne-Claude.
These spectacular artworks succeeded by tapping into the nature of the environment in which they are set. But that doesn’t mean Land artists are necessarily of an environmentalist mentality, it is more that they are simply working expediently with a medium that interests them – a process that began in earnest during the sixties.
In the sixties and throughout subsequent decades, artists began to experiment by constructing art outside the gallery space. Land Art as a movement emerged when some artists began using what they found in nature to produce art. In some cases pieces were small enough to fit into a gallery but increasingly Land Art objects were on a massive scale – hence it is sometimes referred to as Earthwork or Environmental art.
The artists who led the movement at the beginning remain at its forefront. The ideas of one of its greatest protagonists, Robert Smithson, only realised this year by his artist wife, (again in New York!) still seem fresh and innovative – suggesting that perhaps those who originally took to this medium were ahead of their time both in terms of outlook and in their ability to forecast changes in public taste and the lengths people would be willing to go to experience good art. As is the case with Walter de Maria’s Lightning Field which needs to be experienced by camping out for a night, or deceased master Robert Smithson’s now weathered Spiral Jetty which is a daytrip and must be booked in advance.
Contemporary Land artists were not the first to construct artworks in an outdoor setting. Arguably Land Art of one form or another has been happening for thousands of years, though older works also seem to have a religious or astrological significance. It is not surprising then to find that artists such as Herd were influenced by ancient works such as the Nazca Lines in Peru. It would be hard to prove any correlations between growth in public interest in remnants of ancient cultures and burgeoning appreciation in contemporary land art (which as far as it can be is only discernable in the favourable press coverage Land artworks seem to have been getting of late), but it has a nice ring to it nonetheless.
The best of Land Art is remarkable stuff but even the big guns have their critics. Herd’s proposal for a 26-foot-tall steel sculpture of an American bison that would span a bridge in the capital city, was roundly panned But the sense of Herd’s rebuttle resounds. “Whether it’s my sculpture or not over the archway, the idea of the money being used to significantly enhance the look of our state capital should be pretty roundly accepted,” he said.
Land Art has tonnes (pun intended) to offer and whilst it enthrals today’s public, works such as the proposed Over the River by Christo and Jeanne-Claude will no doubt be a pain for future millennia’s archaeologists attempting to interpret our culture.
Its contribution to help develop an understanding of contemporary America has been recognised by the Center for Land Use Interpretation, (CLUI). Long may it be so.
