the lightning field

The Lightning Field, a land art work by Walter de Maria, is an array of 400 stainless steel poles, arranged in a 1 mile by 1 kilometer grid in a remote location in the southwestern high desert in New Mexico. It was erected in 1977 and, as evocative as its name is, doesn't incur as much lightning as one would expect.

The Lightning Field was my first introduction to art defining space. As a freshman taking my first architecture theory class I was assigned to research and report on this piece, and initially found myself skeptical of yet intrigued by it. It sounded so simple, reductive, arbitrary. Yet I found my ignorance dissolving away as I learned of the massive effort to scout for the perfect location, then surveying the undulations of the land in the final spot, as well as securing a fabricator who could form every pole - each one of a different height according to where it would stand in the earth, each one equipped with its own hand-machined, pointed tip.

As much as the Lightning Field is a careful exercise in space, scale, and perspective, none of these could exist without light. At dawn, the poles shine pale, clean and delicate. We awoke to a cloudy dawn, so the effect was subdued, but as we weaved through the poles and as the sun crept higher in the sky we could see the field start to disappear! Then as afternoon wanes and evening approaches, the poles reassert their presence, and as the sun sets every pole seems to catch on fire and the entire field lights up, and at a glance you can almost fully comprehend its massive scale.

When I gave my presentation on the Lightning Field all those years ago, I likened it to a "religious experience" - a pilgrimage of sorts since visits aren't all that easy to arrange; visiting season is kept to a few months out of the year, only six visitors are allowed at a time, photography of the work is not permitted (hrm, should I even be showing the photo above? conflicted), and each visit is kept to less than 24 hours total - just enough to hike around and allow one to view the work at the most dynamic times of the day. I described my visit as "sublime" to a few people, who snickered despite themselves, or politely nodded in confusion/incredulity/bewilderment. I know what I felt though, and having not been this moved by art for years, I only slightly regretted being unable to describe the experience succinctly, elegantly, when presented with an inquiry about the trip. It is humbling to realize that some things can't fully be described and documented in words, and that as cliched as it sounds, you need to experience it for yourself.

all along the I-40 east

My sister and I drove out to Arizona and New Mexico last weekend! Our main destination was the Lightning Field in NM, but along the way we stopped outside of Flagstaff to break up the drive. Time wasn't a luxury, but we managed to make all our stops while getting a seductive taste of the enchanting Southwest. It is magical, no question about it. I don't really know what it is, but it's inherent in the land. The light quality is arguably similar, if not the same as Southern California, which is largely desert as you go east, away from the beaches. Maybe it's the noticeable sparseness of the locale and the breathing room that affords, and knowing that you're outside of a big metropolitan area. Not to mention that some of the most badass and intriguing Native Americans lived on and with it, perhaps the magic comes from that history.

We stayed in an awesome little town called Williams AZ the first night. That afternoon we visited an outdoor drive-around wildlife park called Bearizona (!!!). As we drove through it (windows rolled up at all times) we saw bighorn sheep, mountain goats, bison, gray and arctic wolves, and black bears. It felt like Jurassic Park! Our feelings alternated between excitement and unease, as we couldn't figure out if this was more like a wildlife sanctuary or a zoo. Pretty sure it's the first one though, and it's not like these animals were captured on another continent and shipped here to satiate the curiosity of wide-eyed humans (I hope). I didn't get any shots of the animals I mentioned before, because I was driving, but in the walk-around part of the park I made sure to get a few shots of this snoozing lynx. I love big cats.

One of the best parts of the road trip was when sister spied piles of glass electrical insulators on the side of the road. We took a three mile detour, hopped out of the car and just wandered around this field of insulators, mouths agape and silent with excitement and wonder at our discovery. Had I not been collecting for years I think I would have gone crazy and filled my truck. But I just looked around carefully for models I didn't have and walked away with four. And yet I can't help but think that we'll be back.

On the way in we had noticed an abundance of chollas all along the highway, and a quick peek at the map noted that we were passing through the Bigelow Cholla Garden Wilderness. I wanted so badly to stop and wander around and admire the fuzzy glow of the teddy bear cholla, and got to do so on the way home, for a couple of minutes. Sure it was through the barbed wire fence on the side of the road, but when it came down to a trip this quick, I took whatever I could get.