Building A Canoe: Step One

I have been contemplating building a canoe for many years. I'm not sure how many but at least ten, and during the previous year I've been seriously mulling over the design. Now, finally, I have officially started, and completed, step one, building a pair of midget -- sorry, vertically challenged -- saw horses. 

I think they look real funny, being just 25 inches high, but they need to be short because they are topped by a six inch high strong back and canoe forms which add another 18 inches.


Though they are aesthetically nothing special, I'm happy with them because I've finally found a use for some of the dozens of barn flooring boards I have had stacked in my backyard (I'm sure to my neighbors' dismay and annoyance) for the last seven years. I originally thought I could use them in some kind of domestic project, being that the boards are probably well over 100 years old (and probably old growth), but I quickly realized that they had been pickled in horse pee for many decades so bringing them indoors was not going to be an option.


I'll post images as the project comes together but my goal is that final product both floats and, most importantly, is a stunning work of art. Though I don't have any experience in building a canoe, or any other boats, I know people who have and I've been peppering them with questions for several months now. Based on their recommendations, I'll be using Gil Gilpatrick's Building A Strip Canoe as a guide and constructing his Wabanaki canoe design, a 16 foot general purpose solo or day tripping craft - perfect for exploring the many beautiful lakes throughout Vermont. Hopefully, it will be finished before the ice sets in this year.

This Is What A Masterpiece Looks Like

Though readers of my blog will agree that I tend to be effusive about work I like, even so, I'm not cavalier with the "M" word. In fact, I have never previously used the word in this forum; however, on my most recent trip to the Renwick Gallery I looked at Kim Schmahmann's Bureau of Bureaucracy closely for the first time and realized how special it is.

Bureau of Bureaucracy 

various hardwoods, veneers, marquetry, mother of pearl, gold leaf, and brass,
with french polish shellac finish

96" x 36" x 24" 

1993-1999 

©Kim Schmahmann

I'm not sure why I skimmed over it so many times previously. Perhaps, because of its classical design and impeccable construction, it deceived me into thinking it was "just" another reproduction; or maybe I realized it was a masterpiece but was overwhelmed by the thought of analyzing it; or, maybe I was just overwhelmed by all the other great art in the space and was too distracted to spend the necessary time with any one piece (I sometimes wish curators would stop putting so much great art in museums); but on this visit Bureau had been moved to the center of a room, giving me a chance to see the back side for the first time and really forcing me to spend more time looking at it.

Bureau of Bureaucracy (rear view)

As I looked, I was fascinated by the symbolism that was obviously everywhere, but difficult to decipher. Luckily, immediately after spending time studying it, I walked into an adjoining room where the museum had a video running of artists talking about their work and, coincidentally, Kim was talking about this very piece, giving me a chance to finally learn about the conceptual aspect of the work.


Thoughtfully, Kim has developed a brochure that also discusses some of the features of Bureau, so it isn't necessary to just happen upon the video in order to understand what he has done (the link to it is here). As a result, I don't need to reiterate what he has already documented. If you look it over though, I guarantee you'll be impressed. You will also understand why it took six years to complete.

While looking at it, I was intrigued by the two small door panels (covered with paper collage) in the lower section next to the curly maple file draws. You can barely see them in the top photograph, and there was no way to read them in the museum (without getting thrown out or arrested), but I hoped that by taking digital images I could read them at home by blowing them up (I was about 75% successful).

Bureau of Bureaucracy

(top door panel on lower level)

It appears to be a series of documents associated with Kim's life in South Africa during the time of apartheid. It includes his Identity Document (in which he is classified as a white person in accordance with the Population Registration Act of 1950); some appropriately bureaucratic language about losing South African citizenship if you take the citizenship of another country; a couple of letters associated with his education, one of which, written "To Whom It May Concern" says that he is a part-time student taking Monday evening classes (dated in 1974), perhaps because there was a curfew and he would need to present the document to be out at night; and additional sections which are either too small or in Afrikaans.

Though it is mostly hidden and almost impossible to decipher, I think this panel is really the heart of, and the inspiration for, the entire piece. Only a series of traumatic and unfortunate encounters with a well organized but absurd and authoritarian government, such as one would have living in an apartheid South Africa, could cause someone to dedicate six years of their life to transforming the concept of bureaucracies into a work of art.  

 

 Bureau of Bureaucracy

(bottom door panel on lower level)

The panel on the lower door seems to be made from a collage of documents mostly associated with his time in the United States.  In the center are the rules for the ancient game, Snakes and Ladders, that Kim modified and incorporated into Bureau (image below); A letter of acceptance from the Association of Collegiate Schools of Architecture regarding a presentation at a conference; a letter from the US Department of Justice, Immigration and Naturalization Service; a letter of acceptance for Kim's submission to the Taunton Press for their Design Book Six; a certificate from the Boston Architectural Center; and one additional document I can't make out at all.

 Bureau of Bureaucracy

marquetry Snakes and Ladders game board

(image taken from Kim Schmahmann's website)

One last image I'd like to include is a closeup of the top section. In it, you can see the fine symbolic marquetry (that is explained in the pamphlet) that Kim used to create the door on the left (which covers a series of symbolic drawers). On the right is a model of the reading room at the Library of Congress.

 Bureau of Bureaucracy (closeup)

Bureau is unequivocally a great piece, but I think it really goes above and beyond most other great art because, in addition to being both impeccable in design and astounding in execution, it is, most importantly, a deeply personal piece in which Kim obviously poured his heart and soul with absolute dedication. Thanks Kim!

This Is Not A Tree

Last fall I saw Roxy Paine's new sculpture, Graft, in the National Gallery Sculpture Park on the Mall in Washington, DC and I have been debating the work in my head ever since. 

 Graft

stainless steel

2011

Roxy Paine

I know that it is both technically and visually a great piece but I don't like it -- in fact I hate it (looking at it actually makes me feel a little queasy and ill). But I haven't posted anything earlier because I've been questioning myself, wondering if I'm just being unreasonably uptight or reading more into it than I should, or if I'm the only one that sees something unintentionally sinister in it.

 Graft (closeup)

The problem is that, to me, it looks like a cyborg tree and makes me think of a world (today? in the future?) in which people think they can replace trees with technology, that somehow we can get along independent of the natural world. It is a sculpture of a tree but I don't think it glorifies trees, I think it is saying, "We can do better, what is around you -- the things you see every day -- really aren't good enough, we can make them modern and shiny and better." 

Graft (closeup of closeup)

So I've also debated whether it is great art because it evokes a strong emotion in me, and I've finally concluded that it isn't because in watching the reaction of people to the work I felt that they only saw the shine, not the implications (which I see) of a world in which trees are replaced with machines and we all have to breath manufactured oxygen. For me, to be a great work, it would have to make people think, and I don't believe that it does. But then, like I said, maybe I'm just being uptight. It would be great to hear other opinions on the subject.