Double Negative

Chelsea and I arrived at Double Negative, an earthwork by Michael Heizer, about an hour before dark. The trip was quite long. Double Negative is located outside of Overton, Nevada. Overton is located in the middle of nowhere. We have included a link with directions to the work at the bottom of the page. It also has a few aerial shots.

We were both very excited to see Double Negative as it is an iconic earthwork, but after spending a full day and night at the site we are both still a bit underwhelmed. As we left, driving across miles of flat mesa we discussed the reasons for our lack of enthusiasm. Just a few days ago at the Spiral Jetty we had both been blown away. We felt alienated from Double Negative rather than drawn in.

During our 24 hour stay at Double Negative no one else visited the work. In fact, most of the locals don't even know it's just a few miles outside of town. The overwhelming sense of isolation made it hard to see the work as alive.

In aerial images the work looks monumental and it is. The cuts are each approximately twenty feet deep and fifty feet long. But Double Negative is located on the edge of a huge mesa, the perfectly flat top of which stretches endlessly into the distance. Heizer's work also drops off into a green valley. Despite it's size, Double Negative is dwarfed by the immense scale of its surroundings.

Adding to the overall sense of lifelessness, Double Negative shows the marks of time. Erosion has caused the once parallel walls to crumble in places leaving debris piled in the bottom. This could lend the work a dynamic aspect, though the stillness of the space overshadows the effect. Perhaps witnessing the decay occuring could unlock the potential energy inherent in the work.

Overall, Double Negative felt inanimate though it was well worth the experience. The first thing we saw at the Spiral Jetty was a group of children running out onto it. In comparison to this spirited image, Double negative felt lonely and stagnant. We tried to capture the desolation in our photographs.

Getting to Double Negative is easier than getting to Spiral Jetty.

Though it is a bit confusing

The main hazard is popping a tire on the sharp rocks.

Once there, you can set up a tent just about anywhere on the flat mesa. Chelsea and I chose this precarious spot perched on the side of the south cut. Just don't go stumbling around in the dark.

This image shows the interior of the north cut. You can see how one of the walls has collapsed partially obscuring the view across the chasm.

Chelsea sitting next to the south cut looking over the lush valley below Heizer's work.

Michel warily peers into the north cut.

The intense sun casts a stark shadow in the south cut creating a striking image.

A context shot showing the mouth of the north cut as it drops off.

Looking south across the gorge.

Click here to see all of the images from Double Negative.

Click here for more information and directions.

Torrey, Utah

Chelsea and I spent the night of the 18th with Christopher, a friend of a friend, in Torrey, UT. Torrey is located in southern Utah just outside of Capitol Reef National Park. Christopher and some friends of his are working to create a self sustaining farm equipped with several greenhouses an orchard, and a chicken coop. We had a fantastic meal made from their produce. Christopher also took us into Capitol Reef to go stargazing and, in the morning, hiking through the Grand Wash. The Grand Wash is a canyon that has been used for more than a century as the only thoroughfare to... the other side? Anyway, you can read the names (and see the pockmarks from bullets) of pioneers carved into the cliff walls as early as 1812. Petroglyphs can also be seen from the Freemont Indians.

Michel jumping at the Tanks in the Grand Wash.

Chelsea standing on a natural bridge at the Tanks in the Grand Wash

Thanks Christopher and friends for opening your home to us!

Spiral Jetty, Smithson

The Jetty shot from midway up the hill in front of it. The rocks forming the shoreline seem to rush out into the lake forming the jetty. While we were there several families with children visited the Jetty. The first reaction of the children was to run out onto the Jetty much like Smithson does in his video. The site inspires a kind of weightless euphoria in the visitor.

This is a photo of the end (or beginning) of the Jetty. We took it specifically for Joan Watson.

Michel is weightlessly demonstrating the euphoric nature of the site. He is actually lifting out of the center of the Jetty itself.

Chelsea stands with the "promenade" of stone behind her as the Jetty flows out of the shore into the salt flats of the lake.

Behind Chelsea we see the profile of the Jetty rising from the lake bed.

Looking oddly like dental work, the stones of the Jetty are caked with several inches of salt deposits.

The convergence of the Jettys lines as seen from inside.

Salt flats around the Jetty. The salt layer on the lake bed is several inches thick. It can be hard or soft. Underneath the softer sections red water can be seen which sometimes makes the salt appear pink. Also punctuating the salt flats are outcroppings of what first appear to be stone similar to that of which the Jetty is constructed. Upon further investigation one realizes that this stone is actually a soft, oily clay.

Remnant of attempts at drilling the Lake for oil. This photo was taken near the straight jetty constructed in the twenties several hundred feet from the Spiral Jetty.

Our tent in alignment with the Jetty's point of origin.

Last night Chelsea and I camped at Robert Smithson's Spiral Jetty. The Jetty is located about an hour and a half North of Salt Lake City Utah on Promontory Point. The trip involves travel 15 miles of gravel roads worn out of the desert floor. Several shots of the trip can be seen in the video Smithson made about the Jetty (1969). Below we have included directions.

The Jetty was entirely out of the water with dried salt flats extending for hundreds of feet beyond it to the beginning of the water. The crystaline salt reflected the sunlight and made the ground glitter with a blinding white light. It was a very different experience than when water surrounds or covers the Jetty.

See all of our images from the Jetty at our Picasa site.

DIRECTIONS TO SPIRAL JETTY: Access to Spiral Jetty is available through the Golden Spike National Historic Site. The Division of Natural Resources has posted signs at each turn/fork to indicate directions to the Jetty.

1. Go to Golden Spike National Historic Site (GSNHS), 30 miles west of Brigham City, Utah. The Spiral Jetty is 15.5 dirt road miles southwest of Golden Spike's visitor center.

To get there (from Salt Lake City) take I-15 north approximately 65 miles to the Corinne exit (exit 365), just west of Brigham City, Utah. Exit and proceed through Corinne, paying close attention to the signs, and drive another 17.7 miles west, still on Highway 83, turn left and follow signs, another 7.7 miles up the east side of Promontory Pass to Golden Spike National Historic Site.

2. From the visitor center, drive 5.6 miles west on the main gravel road.

3. Five point six miles should bring you to an intersection. From this vantage point you can see the lake. Looking southwest, you can see the low foothills that make up Rozel Point, 9.9 miles distant.

4. At this intersection the road forks. One road continues west, the other goes south. Take the south (left) fork. Both forks are Box Elder County Class D (maintained) roads.

5. Immediately you cross a cattle guard. Call this cattle guard #1. Including this one, you should cross four cattle guards before you reach Rozel Point and the Spiral Jetty.

6. Drive 1.3 miles south. Here you should see a corral on the west side of the road. Here too, the road again forks. One fork continues south along the west side of the Promontory Mountains. This road leads to a locked gate. The other fork goes southwest toward the bottom of the valley and Rozel Point. Turn right onto the southwest fork, just north of the corral. This is also a Box Elder County Class D road.

7. After you turn south west, go 1.7 miles to cattle guard #2. Here, besides the cattle guard, you should find a fence but no gate.

8. Continue southeast 1.2 miles to cattle guard #3, a fence, and gate.

9. Another .50 miles should bring you to a fence but no cattle guard and no gate.

10. Continue 2.3 miles south-southwest to a combination fence, cattle guard #4, iron-pipe gate - and a sign declaring the property behind the fence to be that of the "Rafter S. Ranch". Here too, is a "No Trespassing" sign.

11. At this gate the Class D road designation ends. If you choose to continue south for another 2.3 miles, and around the east side of Rozel Point, you should see the Lake and a jetty (not the Spiral Jetty) left by oil drilling exploration in the 1920s through the 1980s. As you continue southwest beyond the site of the oil jetty, turn from the southwest to the west (right) onto a two-track trail that contours above the oil-drilling debris below. Only high clearance vehicles should advance beyond this turn. Travel slowly--the road is narrow, brush might scratch your vehicle, and the rocks, if not properly negotiated, could high center your vehicle. Don't hesitate to park and walk. The Jetty is just around the corner.

12. Drive or walk 6/10th of a mile west-northwest around Rozel Point and look toward the Lake. The Spiral Jetty should be in sight. The lake level varies several feet from year-to-year and from season to season, so the Spiral Jetty is not always visible above the water line.

Wandering

Chelsea and I have embarked on a 3,000 mile road trip through the west. Our destinations include the Spiral Jetty (Smithson), Sun Tunnels (Holt), Double Negative (Heizer), and Santa Fe. Over the next several days we will be posting photos and descriptions of each stop. Updates will follow, check back often.

The Science Club: The Boy's Room, Now, Forever, Then, part 1

Erika Wanenmacher, a New Mexico based multi-media sculptor, reveals a provocative exhibition entitled “The Science Club: The Boy’s Room, Now, Forever, Then, part 1.” A Santa Fe resident, Wanenmacher has long been intrigued by the atomic history of the American West, particularly the nuclear saga of neighboring Los Alamos laboratories.

Rapt by a mixture of fascination and horror, Wanenmacher reacts to the appalling history of “human radiation experiments” executed by scientists in Los Alamos between the forties through nineteen seventies, the most shocking of which involve government doctors dosing their own children with radio-isotopic iodine.

In this elaborate installation, which took nearly ten years to compile, Wanenmacher explores how nature, culture, science and technology merge in America’s atomic legacy. These themes intersect as Wanenmacher juxtaposes a child’s bedroom—decked with sixties-era furniture, toys, comic books, magazines, and subversive paint-by-number bomb décor—with an office arrangement consisting of period equipment, fallout distribution maps, and field apparatus appropriated from government surplus facilities. A seemingly haunted atmosphere is fashioned as this invented domestic space is coupled with authentic artifacts from the offices and laboratories of Los Alamos.

Surreptitious details embellish the nostalgic components of the bedroom; delicately quilted atomic figures adorn the bedspread, an X-ray of damaged bone becomes a lampshade, and a comic of Atomic Superboy suggest how deeply embedded atomic culture is to our experience and condition. The fully black and white exhibition is interrupted by one moment of color, a tiny glass of fluorescent yellow-green liquid sitting on a T.V. stand before a monitor running a classic cartoon short.

Wanenmacher seeks to both expose this dark history and pay homage to the victims of these crimes and experiments, reminding us of the possibilities and perils that stem from technology’s pursuit of progress. Yet, the piece is also a spell cast for the future, to bring light from the dark and contemplate our own standing at this critical moment in history. If we “bring to public consciousness” the consequences of the past, we can “change consciousness at will,” Wanenmacher suggests.

Erika Wanenmacher has been widely exhibited throughout the US. Her two most recent one-person exhibitions were featured in New York at the Claire Oliver Gallery and in New Mexico at Linda Durham Contemporary Art. Another notable exhibition, "Grimoire" was featured at SITE Santa Fe in 2001, curated by Louis Grachos. A 20-year survey of Wanemacher works was shown at the Center for Contemporary Art, Santa Fe in 1996. Her work is in the collections of the Museum of Fine Arts, Santa Fe, Museum of Albuquerque and the Fisher Landau Center, New York.

Misty's Disappearance

Misty's Disappearance, by Eve Andree Laramee
/seconds #8 Edited by Peter Lewis

Here's a link to a project I have in the online journal "slashseconds" #8. The issue, "Vanishing Point: The Vicious and Virtuous Circle" focuses on works inspired by the 1971 film Vanishing Point, directed by Richard Sarafian, a quintessential road film. To view the project online:
Misty's Disappearance, by Eve Andree Laramee
My project, Misty's Disappearance, is a photo-text piece that is in response the true story of a woman who stole the last running Dodge Challenger used in the film, and drove off into the Mojave Desert. My fictionalization retells the story from her perspective, giving it a different ending than in reality. Each page is clickable, so you can read the text in an enlarged format.

I wish to thank Richard C. Sarafian, director, and Dennis J. Parrish, art director and prop master, for kindly sharing their experiences and memories by telephone on June 30, 2008. They spoke candidly about the making of the film, and the incident when the last running Dodge Challenger was stolen by a woman who drove off with it into the desert. I learned of this event by way of Sarafian’s audio commentary on the 2003 UK DVD release where he states: “Finally we had only one car left, and what happened, there was a lady, or we’ll call her a hooker, that the crew thought they sort of saved from a local hook joint, and she was traveling with the crew, and the word came back that Misty took off with our only car. The state police tracked her down in a helicopter, we were late that morning to work, but we got the car back. And we often talk about Misty. I don’t know where she is now.” In the telephone conversation with Sarafian, he said that after Misty spent the evening with several men on the crew, possibly at the Mitzpah Hotel in Tonapah, she stole the keys from one of them, and was eventually tracked down by helicopter at the California Border. Parrish has a slightly different account of the event: he does not remember the woman’s name but is certain that Misty is incorrect. He did confirm that a woman by another name, who was well known to the crew, did in fact steal the last running Challenger, and was apprehended by the California Highway Patrol in the Reno/Lake Tahoe area two or three days later. Parish too said he did not know where Misty was now, or if she is still alive. He said, Sarafian “took it all in stride finding the event hilarious,” and that any other director would be furious and screaming, but he accepted it as part of the extended story. They both described the weeks during which the film was shot as a series of magical surreal, moments in time, and remarked on the metaphysical and spiritual subtext of the film and how this quality significantly sets it apart from other road films of the era.

My project is a fictionalization of Misty/Desirée’s point of view of the car theft. Rather than interpreting her story as a crime, or a reversal of loss, or worse a disaster, I seek to create a fictional terrain: geographic, psychological and cognitive, in which the reader/viewer imagines the days of her disappearance. The intention is to provide “Misty” with an escape into an alternative history and an alternative future, had her luck or circumstances been different. I delight in the fact that Sarafian saw her actions as a “perfectly surreal event” in relation to the film. My project opens up a space for Misty’s release: she makes her get away, was not apprehended, the crew cheers her on, there are no surveillance helicopters, no California Highway Patrolmen, only her own psychological complexities to deal with. She makes it to the waters of the Gulf of California, that slip of sea between Baja and mainland Mexico to begin her new life. Ever onward, Misty/Desirée. Plus ultra, more beyond.

DESERT OF DREAMS

Wendover Air Force Base, War Reserve Strategic Storage
DESERT OF DREAMS
by Tom Vanderbilt

The American desert, land of lost civilizations, wayward prophets, and air-conditioned fantasy,has long been the country's last New Frontier, where dreams might be played out with a minimum of interference—if only, as in the scene in Joan Didion's "Play It as It Lays," we can keep sweeping the drifting sand back to the perimeter of the yard. It is a vast tabula rasa, where one's mark can be seen for miles—whether it be the earthworks of endowed artists, the ancient trails of primeval visitors, or the pockmarked craters of an aerial bombing range.

In this regard, the desert was the perfect home for the Cold War, not simply for its sheer size and emptiness, but because the desert, in America, has come to signify the future. The Cold War was at heart a conflict projected toward the future: the race to see who would first reach space, whose Air Force would first reach 10,000 bombers, who would explode the first 25 megaton warhead.

Despite its overwhelming aura of fatalism and apocalypse, it also concealed a perverse undercurrent of optimism, a belief that the science and technology that was being funded by the so-called "imaginary war" would someday mean a better life for all—if it did not kill us first.

It is no surprise that the place where people most often go to reinvent themselves in a country of reinvention is the desert city of Las Vegas. It is, after all, a city that has witnessed many futures—the Mormons, the Mafia, the Manhattan Project—and would not exist at the scale it does without the massive technological life-support systems upon which it rests its confidence in unimpeded future growth. The city exists as a collective delusion that it is not a desert, and such an illusory environment is fertile ground for those seeking to nurture their own illusions.

The desert has attracted all manner of dreamers, from millenarian cultists to visionary artists to the advanced weapons scientists of the United States Air Force. They have all made their mark, tested something or another on America's proving ground. Like bleached bones or bullet-ridden "No Trespassing" signs, these dreams lie in the desert sand, faded and chipped but intact, legible...
Continued