We were lucky. Bloomberg & Cuomo stood their ground – they shut down transit, MTA, bridges and ordered a mandatory evacuation. Everyone said, don’t be fooled into complacency, Irene was a “near miss” – this one is like no other. Hurricane Sandy brought the HighWaterLine project into stark reality this week.

I have seen images of water up to (and past in many cases) where I drew the line. I keep hearing about incidents that, sadly, don’t surprise me at all. The explosion at the 14th street substation? That is a power plant right on the coastline, and below 10 feet above sea level. The height of the storm surge? Reportedly 13 feet.

The images are shocking, the storm itself was pretty scary, but the inundation (which was quieter than the wind rattling the windows, tearing down trees and ripping up fences and awnings – and even a few building facades). The inundation is what has crippled the city – the subway and the tunnels remain closed. Manhattan below 38th street remains without power. And, as this insightful article states, even though “the worst of the storm is over” the recovery has only barely begun, and there are a lot of pieces missing in the recovery.
In 2007 I walked along almost 70 miles of Brooklyn and Lower Manhattan coastline. I got to know the people who lived, worked and played in those communities. I know what the Paedergat Basin is, and what the Gowanus and Newtown Creek look like. I have seen the power station at 14th street.

HighWaterLine, 14th Street Substation, 2007

Debris from Hurricane Sandy, 14th Street Substation, Octobe 2012 (Dan Lurie / Gothamist)

I have also seen the sewage treatment plants, waste transfer stations, other power stations, and the schools, hospitals, nursing homes and neighborhoods that were inundated. At the time I sought to get climate change and its potential impacts to be a part of the conversation – locally, at the city and state levels and maybe even at the federal level. Many have complained that it is still not a part of the national conversation, it should be. If we don’t solve this, what do any of the other problems matter? What is good education if there is no school? Healthcare when the hospitals can’t operate? Housing rights when your house has been washed away?

Thankfully, Bloomberg and Cuomo are talking about it. Even Cuomo’s quote, “It seems like we have a 100 year flood every two years now,” is eerily familiar to the conversation I had on the streets during the project.

…the likelihood of a 100-yr flood could become as frequent as once in every 43 years by the 2020s, once in every 19 years by the 2050s, and once in 4 years by the 2080s, on average, in the most extreme case.

I never wanted this to be a reality. Five years ago I couldn’t have even imagined it. And this year I have been finishing up curriculum (with Tricia Watts) to allow other communities to realize their own version of HighWaterLine and working with Heidi Quante to bring the project to London and Miami, and working on a Philadelphia HighWaterLine with Chemical Heritage Foundation.

And along comes Sandy. And now it is true.

HighWaterLine, Dumbo, 2007

Jane’s Crousel, this broke my heart*

I have really mixed feelings about the project. Last year we didn’t end up doing it in Dublin because they experienced flooding with fatalities, and it just felt too soon.

It is an awkward situation in which I find myself. These projects are really really important in engaging around the very harsh, scary and sad realities of climate change. But seeing it is another thing. It hurts. It is scary. I am speechless often and shocked by the images.

And yet, here I am, a voice that really really knows what is at stake, and I have a certain responsibility to sharing that story.

I don’t have an answer. Only more questions. But I hope that Obama starts to talk about the reality of climate change. And I hope, since he wouldn’t run for re-election again, he can ignore the lobbyists and the big money and make some bold moves for the US, that other countries could proudly follow.

From the HighWaterLine blog, July 1, 2007:

There was the guy in Gerritsen Beach whose family grew up in and owned houses in the neighborhood dating back to his grandmother – in the worst case scenario, his own grandchildren wouldn’t have that opportunity. The gentleman who chose to spend the summer at his mother’s place in Manhattan Beach instead of his apartment in Bushwick, his children or grandchildren may not have that opportunity.

But this project is about hope and belief in our ability to change the course we are on. There is the guy whose meditation class is focusing in July on less consumption. The woman in Sheepshead who wanted to get involved in the community in order to raise awareness about flooding. The family on the way to the beach who remarked how by saving energy, they could save money.

…And for every one person who is a skeptic or annoyed about the chalk on the street, there are the 10 or more that are so excited about the project and the information that they high five me on the curb, or call out to say hello as I ride my tricycle down the road. Sometimes I am utterly utterly exhausted by the end of the day, but as soon as I put down the next mornings first stripe of chalk or have a kid run up to ask “What are you doing?” I feel energized and ready to take on the days path.

…I get to look back at the stories that I have heard and the incredibly varied neighborhoods that I have seen, and the people I have met, and I feel really truly honored to be the one who is bearing witness. I hope that I can find a way to share the sights and stories from the project. I hope that I also am able to give something back to the communities through which I pass and to the people that I meet.

*Jane’s is apparently okay.

Well, here I am, about half way through an entire year without art. I’ve done some doodling, I’ve springpad-ed some ideas and inspiration and read a lot of blogs. But I haven’t *made* anything. I’ve also done some interviews (here) and I’ve been doing some advising (I’m really excited about this), am included in some shows (here and here) and hopefully will be attending this in the fall. But make something? No.

As I write this I am listening to the thunderstorms roll around me while sitting at my mom’s “ranch” just west of Houston, Texas. And I have come to a big realization. I spend a whole lot of my time trying to get somewhere. Every day is about one destination or another. It’s not that I don’t enjoy the journey, I do – it’s even why I often chose slower more ‘scenic’ forms of transportation (walking or biking instead of transit,  trains instead of cars or airplanes). But I make plans about going somewhere. Not just being. Here at the ranch I have done a lot of being. I specifically came down here with no plans to go anywhere or achieve anything. Just spend time with my amazing mom (she deserves a blog post of her own). And what I have really enjoyed have been the rhythms of daily living. Waking up and making breakfast. Washing clothes and hanging them on the line. Doing manual labor around the ranch. Sitting and talking to my mom. Its the pattern of a life, made up minute by minute, day by day. And it has rhythm, and melody.

This is a microcosm of why I took my year off from art. Art making had become about destinations (deadlines) and the journey is fun, but there is less joy in the rhythm of making. So I am trying to sort that out. I am also thinking a lot about the rather dire situation we find ourselves in with regards to climate chaos and how my voice and practice can grow bigger to impact that at a greater level than it has thus far.

I miss making art, there’s no doubt about that. And the news of the Water Tank Project has me itching to do the green water towers I wanted to do so long ago. And these graffiti showed up on my corner and inspired thoughts of another graffiti project I would love to do. But for now, I will focus on the rhythm and trust that the rest will come…

First of all, the why. I have a practice that is heavy on research, networking and fundraising. It is far from a solitary and peaceful practice of being in a studio creating objects. It is a practice that can be demanding and on occassion demeaning (yet another rejection? Another failed fundraising campaign? Another hurdle for permits?) Don’t get me wrong, it is also intensely satisfying, frequently a lot of fun and I wouldn’t trade it for any other practice. Lately I have also enjoyed a lot of success and recognition for previous projects, which is also great. But what that means is I have spent what seems like a couple of years supporting ongoing long term projects, revisiting/recreating older projects and generally hustling on projects that don’t feel new. (Truth be told, I look back and I have created a few new projects, it just doesn’t feel like it). I am frequently up against outside deadlines (project launches, grant applications, shows, etc and those (along with my teaching) keep me really busy, with little or no time to do new research, catch up on reading, sit and reflect or percolate with new ideas.

Alberta Night Sky by michellerlee (via Flickr CC)

So this year, I decided no new deadlines. No commitments, no re-hashing old projects or rushing to conceive and produce new projects. I would take a sabbatical from my arts practice. I will have time to catch up on some old projects (oh yeh, update the website and resume?) Read some of the books that have been sitting on my shelf, discover new art and artists and maybe percolate new projects and ideas.

So what are the rules about this year? How devoid of art will it really be? I think the primary thing I am sticking to is no deadlines. Discussions on projects to happen in 2013? Sure, as long as they are happening late enough in 2013 as to not be pressure in 2012. Opportunities to create new work – project proposals in 2012? Nope. Tying up some loose ends from 2011, yes, I’ve already committed to those.

Here’s the trickier ones. Creating new work in 2012? I am allowing myself a sketchbook in which to jot down thoughts and ideas, but I won’t develop them to any finished stage. I am looking forward to meeting with new people and learning from them and starting to think about correlations in our work that could lead to collaborations, but I won’t commit to anything in 2012.

I will be back teaching at Parsons in the fall, so I’ll have some commitments around that. I also am totally open to lectures about my work, sitting on panel discussions and panel reviews, participating in brainstorming and think tank type sessions, doing interviews…

I feel like all of these things inform my work without requiring a lot of time away from creative thinking.

So there you have it. I did an interview recently with my friend Matthew Slaats. He’s interviewing a number of people who have taken a year off. I will let you know when it goes online. Have any other questions? Leave me a comment…

Insert ____ Here in Leiden

An artistic practice has a lot of “teachable aspects” including math, ways of seeing, and visual/written/spoken language. For many kids it is a way of understanding a complex issue which may be inapproachable when presented through more traditional methods. I have seen evidence that art (and in particular non-traditional and public works) can spark curiosity, interest and passion. I see that public works can have great impact by given them a sense of purpose, ownership and responsibility in front of a group larger than their peer group within institutional walls. Give them the space for authorship also and the energy and commitment is exponential. (It also helps that sometimes those projects mean getting to do things in public that might otherwise be frowned upon.)
So why in particular the focus on the HighWaterLine project? This project had a deep and indelible impact on me, my work and my understanding of what it means to create work in the public. I developed an in depth understanding of the issues affecting my community in the face of climate change. It helped me boil down a complex issue into real, comprehendible local impacts that could be related to communities at large in a fairly simple and straight forward manner. It helped me understand the power of art in providing clarity, entrance to complicated issues and a moment of spectacle which can act as a catalyst for greater conversation and action. It really helped me understand the “power of one.” And it gave me an intimate view of my community, the community at risk and our own relationship with climate change. I don’t think I was fully aware of all of this going into the project.
And the amazing thing is, all of this can occur within the reenactments of the project in other communities around the world.
There are also a lot of concrete and measurable learning outcomes within the project: students learning about climate science and contemporary and local environmental issues. They learn about geography, topography and mapping. They learn technology. They learn public speaking skills and storytelling skills. There is the documentation that they do which hones their ability to record and relate the experience. And if partnered with an institution, the ability to share the experience through the documentation.
The other important aspect of developing this guide is providing access to this project to as wide an audience as possible. Sure, there’s something to be said for the artist (that’s me) being present to direct the program in different communities, but that’s never been the intention of this project’s iterations. Wherever it is conducted it should be conducted by members of that community. Though climate change is a global issue, it takes individuals acting together on local issues to have a reverberatory effect. It is also part of my artwork ethos to create projects and works that can be shared under the Creative Commons Share-Alike, Attribution, Non-Commercial license. It is also important for me not to add to my yearly carbon output by getting on an airplane and traveling to enact the project. Finally, as an artist, I am ready to move on to other projects and use my creative energies to creating new projects and not putting all my energy into supporting older ones.

I like the idea that each group can find a way to interpret or re-interpret the project as suits their own interests and their own communities. I hope that the project continues to grow and evolve and have a life of its own beyond my commitment.

A quote from the HighWaterLine blog:

If given a chance to get out and speak to people somewhat randomly on the street, I highly recommend it. I don’t mean going out and soliciting funds or votes or anything like that, but just having the conversation with people about something which you can share. It is highly unlikely that if it weren’t for this project, I would ever meet the people I have met. We might ride on the same train, or be in line somewhere, or shop at the same store, without ever talking – simply because we would have no reason to speak. By putting myself out in public and doing something which raises people’s curiosity, I have the chance to have conversations with people. Sometimes it is a passing curiosity that they have and the engagement is quite short, but more often than not I am able to have a relaxed and engaged conversation with people. I tell them what I am doing, they tell me about their own experiences – whether it is loosing flood insurance on their home, cleaning up bags and bags of plastic washed up on the shore, experiencing severe weather themselves or by way of family members. It is an entirely different experience from merely informing people about climate change. It is a chance to connect on a very personal level, and maybe (just maybe) have a greater impact because of that. I treasure every experience, and have been able to play the role of storyteller, passing on one story that I heard to another person with whom I speak, thereby sharing all of our experiences.

River Liffey Bridge by sjaustin via Flickr

As part of the Surface Tension exhibit at The Science Gallery in Dublin, Ireland, I will be working with the gallery’s educators and some local youth to create a HighWaterLine along the River Liffey. They will be meeting with a scientist, mapping the line, designing support materials, learning talking points and how to have a discussion around local climate change. Then they will do the line over the course of one day, and document with photos, videos and stories which they will present in the gallery. Scheduled to happen in January of 2012.

For a long time I have wanted to share the power of the HWL project – the experience from researching local climate change, the experience of being out on the street and having real conversations with your own neighbors. I wanted it to be available around the world. Now I am working with Patricia Watts from ecoartspace to finally make that a reality. We are raising a small amount of funds to cover the development, writing and publishing costs. We will then make the guide available as a free download for anyone who wants to use it for teaching.

Insert ____ Here 2011 was a re-imagining of the project I created in 2008. This time I collaborated with 350.org to make it huge! And global. We wanted to put the power of creative thinking in the hands of community organizations and give people a chance to think positively in the face of climate change. View all the sites at insert-here.org.

And we partnered with artist Paul Notzold for an interactive projection project.

hang doggie

Okay, so I doubt that it will be perfect, but every step is a step closer right? I am working on yet another grant application and am using excerpts from recent applications to try to rewrite a CLEAR and CONCISE statement. The statement will be followed by more specific descriptions in regards to the images I submit to the review committee but let’s see if I can start it off with something enticing and interesting.

Here are the excerpts from recent applications (don’t judge me please :p):

I create interactive experiences that engage participants in exploring and evolving their urban landscape. I work on a city scale and devise simple methods for interacting with surroundings that build awareness of our environment, allow exploration of the landscape or encourage re-imagining. The simple experiences are the most powerful, surprise and exploration are important elements of the work.I am particularly interested in creating public artwork which invites participation, interaction and collaboration. The works explore our identity in context with the urban environment and issues specific to that situation. I create works with and within communities outside of the traditional art environment. I like to engage communities in designing, creating and or enacting the projects and I seek to have a lasting impact through experiential learning.

I have been working for the past 5+ years on public art projects that address the urban issues and state of existence for residents of New York City (my home). The works have the goal of reaching out to, and embracing, the broadest possible audience – connecting people from diverse backgrounds and across both visible and invisible boundaries. I also try to build solutions into the works themselves – sometimes that might mean education through play or experience, sometimes that means creating remediation within the project manifestation. The projects often invite participation of the audience in order to complete the project. Through the projects, participants have a voice in discussing common issues, they are given tools of empowerment and action and they are given resources to learn, grow and potentially change their predicament in relation to the issue.

Okay based on those I came up with this draft. Let me know what you think:

I create public art projects which invite participation, interaction and collaboration. With the works I seek to reach and and embrace a broad audience – connecting people from diverse backgrounds with each other and their urban environment. I engage communities in designing, creating and enacting works that involve surprise, exploration and simple yet powerful statements. I am interested in creating projects which embrace solutions and engage participants and viewers in education through play or experience. The projects provide tools for expanding understanding of local and global issues as well as engaging in creative problem solving.

If there was a way to connect with other artists working on environmental issues in a non-traditional way, would that be useful to you?

I had a great meeting with Theresa von Wuthenau, founder of Imagine2020, an arts organization which is an umbrella for 11 presenters around Europe who are presenting work on climate change issues. It made me think about the value of shared resources, experience and networks and how that might increase visibility and ability for artists around the world.

So if there was a way to connect, what would it look like and what would the goals be? Is it a simple FaceBook group or a forum? Is it something deeper which allows knowledge and resource sharing through tagging and data mining. How deep is it? How shallow? How much time would one have to put into it to get something out of it? How much time do any of us have to give to it?

Could the group start to make things happen in the way of venues, funding and other oppurtunities? Is it curated, inclusionary? How does the group define or self define?

One of the other projects that Imagine2020 is working on is a summer school for artists and scientists to get together to collaborate. They are seeking to have the artists and scientists truly collaborating, not just the artist collecting information and creating a project independently. I would love to find some ways to recreate these opportunities

feet

An excerpt from the wonderful interview that Wave Hill conducted, edited and published in the Remediate/Re-vision catalog [pdf]:

My engagement with the environment has evolved over time. I first started working three-dimensionally after moving to New York City. The urban environment felt like a place where one had to make an effort to engage with nature, and I felt the need to draw it out and create a visible connection. After a few years of working abstractly, and in the midst of non-action on the part of the federal government, I decided to move my practice into a more active role, taking on a variety of environmental and social issues. I see the two as being deeply intertwined. The goal of the work now is to take issues and solutions to as wide an audience as possible, and to create interactions which allow participants to connect with the urban environment in a variety of experiential ways.

Both my background as an artist and as a student of architecture continue to inform my work. I try to think creatively about the use of space, both public and private, and how that space might be used to connect people, places and things. My training taught me to look at what is there and what is in between (the void), and how each of those types of spaces can be used to influence movement, emotions and actions. The artist in me seeks visually and conceptually interesting methods of achieving environmental and social action. I continue to esteem the aesthetics of a work while considering the simplest means to an end. Most of the projects are measured by the number of people directly participating in the project. At the same time, I like the domino effect the projects may have: one person might change their attitude or approach to their urban environment through direct participation, which in turn may affect a second person witnessing to take action. I could apply metrics but feel that the emotional impact is a greater and more abstract measure. The emotional connection is what will effect the greatest long-term impact.