Writing 1:Ephemeral/Site

In Walking the Line: Affectively Understanding and Communicating the Complexity of Place, Laurene Vaughan discusses the act of moving through space, specifically walking, as a form of artistic exploration. She sees walking as more than just a mode of movement or transportation, rather, it is a creative act. Through walking, individuals can engage in a critical yet aesthetic approach to research that reveals the complicated layers in a space. One of Vaughan’s claims is that embodied creative acts like walking can foster meaningful connections between self and place. I agree with this perspective, as walking can allow individuals to ground themselves and experience their environment in a different way, especially when it’s approached with full sensory and mental presence. Her argument presents a compelling case for considering walking as a legitimate method of research and creation, even if it's considered nontraditional. It can be both reflective and sensory-driven, producing a kind of narrative shaped by movement of the body in the space (p. 317). That said, Vaughan’s framework risks romanticizing this process, potentially overlooking important social, historical, and political layers. Walking through a space is not equally accessible for all, as class, ability, safety, and other factors can limit who gets to move freely. So how can it be tailored to fit this? Does this mean we cannot fully engage in this form without the walking itself? Would this make it not legitimate? Moreover, walking through a space may not tell the whole story and require extra outside knowledge to be brought in, limiting what knowledge actually comes about from this. Still, after doing Walk One, I noticed how tuning into my surroundings through movement helped me connect with what Vaughan describes.

Andy Goldsworthy’s creative process in Rivers and Tides closely aligns with Vaughan’s argument. Vaughan (2009) notes that “walking takes on a symbolic form that has enabled humans to dwell in the world,” transforming into “an aesthetic act of discovery, experience, and reflection of both the everyday and in relation to the creative arts” (p. 317). Similarly, Goldsworthy(2022) uses walking not only as a means of physical movement but as an entry point into his artistic practice. His immersive engagement with the land, walking through it, touching it, and observing it, guides the form and material of his sculptures. He allows the land and its rhythms to shape his work, collaborating with nature itself. In this way, he uses Vaughan’s idea of walking as a mapping practice. Analyzing Vaughan’s assumptions further, we find an implicit belief that mapping, although typically scientific or geographic, can also be redefined through artistic practice. This is a warranted claim when considered alongside Goldsworthy’s process, as he uses walking and the land to create temporary sculptures that move with the ebb and flow of nature. By mixing sensory input from his walks in a space with psychological reflection, he allows the landscape to guide the form and meaning of his work. Although some scientific reactions may be happening, like the melting of the ice, the rise and fall of the tide, and the weight of the rocks displacing and collapsing, his art doesn’t show that of scientific data, rather a conversation between body, landscape, rhythm, and time. I found this to be the most compelling part of his documentary. His sculpture process made me appreciate how much meaning can come from simple, everyday materials when we take the time to really observe and work with the environment around us. It also reminded me that art doesn’t have to be permanent or “perfectly crafted” to be meaningful. Crafting temporary pieces can still be incredibly personal, deeply insightful, and still connect both self and place.

Some of my favorite pieces Andy Goldsworthy made from the video:

I loved this piece because of how fluid he made the ice look. I had no idea ice could be used in such a way, but this makes it look skeletal yet river-like.

This one resembles a giant anthill or cocoon of sorts. I loved watching him build it from the inside. The fact it stayed together as it floated away was incredible. Just one more thing he probably didn't expect Mother Nature to do. 

References:

Documentary Central. (2022, October 20). Andy Goldsworthy's natural sculptures with ice, stone & more | Rivers and Tides | Documentary Central [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AT7VBmd4J6w

Vaughan, L. (2009). Walking the line: Affectively understanding and communicating the complexity of place. The Cartographic Journal, 46(4), 316–322. https://doi.org/10.1179/000870409X12541388437132