It’s somewhat disjointed, but I shot a few snippets of video on Friday as I was putting the Illuminated Underground Micro-Gallery into the ground at the Water Street Sculpture Park, and I wanted to share it with those of you who weren’t able to make it out and see it in person this past weekend.
As for what’s inside the box, I wasn’t going to share it online, thinking that maybe people would be more inclined to go and look for themselves if they didn’t know what awaited them, but, now that a few days have passed, and some readers from out-of-state have inquired, I thought that I’d go ahead and share a few photos.
As I explained it the other day to someone who came out to see it, “It’s a locally sourced robin’s nest, lined with artisanally grizzled beard hair, and filled to the brim with enough heirloom apple seeds to either take the life of a full grown man or start a small community.”
It’s hard to tell from these photos, but it kind of hovers a foot or so from the floor of the gallery, in the middle of the box.
As a rule, I don’t like artist statements. I don’t recall ever having read one that made me appreciate a piece of art any more than I did already. Conversely, though, I’ve found myself liking pieces quite a bit less after having read what artists had to say about their work. So, I’ll spare you the “message” behind my piece. What I will say, however, is that apple seeds have been interesting to me for a long time, as they hold within them such immense promise, while, at the same time, being so deadly. I’ve always appreciated that duality. On one hand you have these beautiful, compact seeds that contain the world within them, the blueprint for life. They’re explosive. They’re magical. They hold the promise of sustenance, both food and drink. And, on the other, they’re these tiny hydrogen cyanide pills. Granted, I exaggerated a bit when I said earlier that my work contained enough to kill a person. As I understand it, it would take about half a cup of dried, ground seeds to do the job, and my piece doesn’t contain nearly that many, but I wasn’t trying to be literal. I just liked the idea of a little, glowing “break glass in case of emergency” capsule in the middle of nowhere that would present you with a choice… either consume the contents and die, escaping all of the bad that is around us, or plant them and set about the difficult work of building a sustainable community. That’s as far as I’m going to go with the explanation. I’m sure, however, if you spend a few minutes thinking about the state of the world in general, and the state of Ypsilanti specifically, you’ll begin to see where I’m coming from.
Also, I should add that I’m already in the process of planning another, which I think will be even better… So keep looking down.
[If you'd like to see how the piece came together, you'll find photos documenting the construction here... And, again, I'd like to thank Dale Grover, Rob Todd, and the folks at Maker Works, without whom this never would have happened. They're awesome folks.]