I was emotionally connected to this documentary as I have many times expressed that words at best "do a job" in terms of describing art; unable fully to express ones idea. Andy Goldsworthy is consciously connected to earth as we all are but fail to notice. Many times while listing to him try to explain his work I relied on the visuals for the understanding and found myself connecting to my beliefs in Native American tradition and respect for our Mother Earth.How Andy relates to time it seems is much like the birth of a child, inevitable, exciting and demanding. Time controls everything and cannot be stopped. At moments he found himself enjoying time relaxing and meditating in it, and in others felt pressured and frustrated by it. But more often than not Andy accepted the existence of time and worked it into his projects as a benefit rather than a nuisance. For example the scene in which he grinds the red lime stone, patiently speaking on his intention to toss it into the water, and how this would be but a flash of a moment made no difference to his dedication of grinding that pigment. Interesting that the high iron content is what causes the color red, like in our blood was a brilliant connection and reenforced the idea that we are all connected.
Every tree is different every tide, person every rock. Andy understands that there are "obsessive forms" that repeat themselves throughout the earth perhaps even inside our bodies but he grows attached to certain places. His attachment to his home town I would assume is due to the fact that the pressures of producing art are somewhat non existent. He produces when he feels, and he is familiar with what he feels which enables him to create more stable and secure work. For example the opening of the documentary were he is building his stone 'egg' he says that with each time the structure broke down he learned something new about the stone. And by the end he had learned enough about these stones to produce solid structures that were able to coexist in their natural environments. And in those natural environments they were breathtaking and amazing, especially watching an animal come up and rub against one of them. Yet when sitting in the middle of a stark, bland inorganic environment such as the gallery the structure lost its spirit.
What makes Andy's heart thump is when his work is not destroyed by nature but transformed, and becomes a part of nature. When working outside the safe cubicle of the art school you are faced with what he called "too many unknowns" which in his case is inspiring. For me setting up a studio to photograph a model in my arranged environment, although takes great effort, knowledge and respect has never been some thing that I am interested in. I much prefer to shoot on the street, to shoot people or places that I feel will eventually be lost forever. The power of the photograph as he describes, allows him to relive and enjoy his work; I feel the same. There is a certain 'energy' that comes with working outside the office. This energy comes from recognizing that the moment has passed and will never return, how you related to it or documented it is all that remains. The lack of stability is freeing and fluid, much like the effects of the visual elements of his work.
The concept around the sheep was a little hard for me to understand at first but thinking and thinking led me to connect this question regarding "the very thing that bring it to life, causes its death". Andy talks about how the sheep are powerful in their own sense and that the land as a result of them being there has become rid of trees and brush, only grass remains and even that is tortured and torn by the sheep. Yet this is not the destruction of a place but a rebirth or new purpose for which it is now to fulfill.
Every place has a history, something interesting you can find if you care to look. Joel Sternfeld's work in color photography is conceptual and respectable. He brings attention to the history of the places that he photographed just as Andy did with his stone wall. They both seem to have the same respect for these locations and are both perhaps spiritually touched by them. Site is important when you are working conceptually because it inspires you. Place if you are open to it can communicate with you in ways that like Andy says cannot be described in words.
What I took from this was the confidence to do the work you love, to produce work that you believe makes a difference, even if it is in the smallest of ways. He reminded me what it is to be a free artist, free of social expectations, free of commissions hounding you. His passion when speaking was so unorganized that it directly reflected the basis of why he does this work, perhaps he just doesn't know why he has to do these works; but does it matter?
