Rock Art - Robert Sommer
(full text of article)
Rocks are about time, a record of the planet's geological history, of forces deep within the earth thrusting up, cooling, shattering, eroding. The slowness of the metamorphosis relative to brief human life has made rocks symbols of strength, solidity, and permanence. All human endeavor rests on stone; even when we break away to sail or fly, we soon return to bedrock. Stone has been used by artists and artisans who value permanence. Yet it also has properties that make it suitable for temporary shoreline installations. Rocks can be piled, stacked, arranged, and balanced.
Some rocky beaches along the California coastline have become centers of rockstacking. This is an ancient art that is, through the influence of Andy Goldsworthy and other professional artists, experiencing a modest revival. Shoreline galleries of rock art have appeared at Dana Strand Beach in Orange County, at Tennessee Valley beach in Marin County CA, at Fort Point on San Francisco Bay, on the San Diego city breakwater, and along several river banks where good stacking rock is found. The fundamental principle is balance, finding the perfect inner tension for one stone placed on top of another. In a dialog between self and stone, the rocks tell what you can do with them.
Rock art first appeared at Fort Point on San Francisco Bay in 1994. This was shortly after the old Coast Guard station nearby was returned to public use. Within a space of 200 yards along the seawall were dozens of stone spires. Most consisted of three or four rocks struggling to remain vertical, but there were also two large cairns. From a Gaelic word meaning "heap," cairns derive from the ancient Celtic practice of using stone mounds to mark places, graves, and boundaries. There were intriguing contrasts in color, texture and shape among the stones, with a reddish rock in between two dark gray rocks, or a triangular rock atop a round boulder, indicating separation or sequence. I was reminded of landscape philosopher J. B. Jackson's comment that the architectural importance of stone was accounted for by its power to link the cosmic order with our inner search for order. Stone, he maintained, demands that we think about origins.
The seawall at Fort Point abuts a heavily used path that attracts multitudes of pale walkers, joggers, and bicyclists. Many pedestrians stop to admire the balanced stones. A few passersby, intrigued by what they see, attempt to stack rocks. As I photographed the constructions, people asked if the rocks were cemented together, as some arrangements seemed to defy gravity. The answer is no. All the pieces used balance, the juxtaposing of physical forces to create a stable structure. Those viewing the work and especially those creating it, find the balance stimulating, as if one can physiologically sense the tension between forces.
The balanced rocks at Fort Point started out as the productions of a single individual, warehouseman Bill Dan, whose work attracted numerous imitators. Bill Dan came regularly on weekends to create dozens of arrangements on a single visit. He subsequently reduced his production rate because of vandalism. Some visitors apparently considered the vertical stacks as something to knock over. Bill made his arrangements by feel rather than according to a prearranged plan. He puts one rock on another, sees how they fit together, and then decides whether or not to add additional stones. He tried similar arrangements at Fisherman's Wharf but did not like the feel of the stones. Initially he was shy about being photographed or identified by name, but this changed and over the next few years, he became a local celebrity. Visitors told him about artist Andy Goldsworthy who constructs rock arrangements all over the world, and whose work is featured in several coffee table books. Bill had not known of Goldsworthy before he began making shoreline sculpture. However, he was aware of stone art made by native peoples, such as the rock piles used by Canadian Eskimos as markers and symbols. Called inukshuk, meaning human-like stone figures, they mark locations in a bleak landscape without trees or other wood available. Some that are standing today in the Canadian north were built hundreds of years ago. Their great size and weight discourages vandalism.
Shoreline rock art can be done modestly by balancing pebbles. Friends told me about rock art at Tennessee Valley Beach in Marin County. Barbara Sommer and I went to look on a cloudy morning following several recent storms. We had to remove our shoes and wade across a raging stream to reach the sculpture area. When we arrived, there was no sculpture, the storms having cleaned the beach.
Finding no sculpture, we decided to construct our own, using pieces of serpentine broken away from the steep cliffs behind us. Picnickers watched four grayhairs foraging for rocks and then stacking them. Available materials and the sense of touch determined what was to be made. Barbara enjoyed building stacks only a few inches tall. Green serpentine contrasted with white quartz and streaked brown sandstone. She was so entranced with one of her creations that she considered bringing it home for installation in our entryway. She decided that the stones belonged to the beach and wouldn't look the same in the Central Valley.
Children on the beach watched us with wide eyes. We had the feeling that the stacks would not remain long after we departed but the fun was in the building. Like sand castles, this was not timeless art. The satisfactions lay in foraging ("Aha" an interesting pebble), tactile exploration of the proper balance for each stone, and building something of beauty from available materials.
Jim Needham is an unusual rockstacker for several reasons. First, he is a professionally-trained artist with a degree from the San Francisco Art Institute. Second, he obtains rocks from a river bed near his studio in Carmel, CA and hauls them to other locations. This is not typical of most rockstackers who build where materials are found. Needham makes rock art at ocean beaches, river locations, and even in an abandoned hydraulic mine in the Sierra. He has experimented, so far unsuccessfully, with underwater stacks in the ocean. He travels the world giving workshops, creating stacks on commission for clients, and selling photographs of his constructions. It isn't easy making a living doing public art but Needham gives it a try. His work can be viewed at www.rockstacker.com.
Beach rocks can also be arranged horizontally. Instead of stacked, they are placed alongside one another in an aesthetically pleasing arrangement. This is more typical of front yard rather than beach display. Jim Needham has created several such pieces, set among flower beds, in his front yard, which has been transformed into Gravity Gardens, an open air sculpture gallery.
Rock art is one of the many uses of California's beaches. It is creative, non-intrusive, and instructive. The builder acquires tactile knowledge of the properties of different types of rocks, and is motivated to find out more about their history. What is built takes its form, not from an original conception, but from the properties of the materials. The next storm will remove all traces of previous work. The stones remain as source and inspiration for other artisans.
Summer 2002 - Coast & Ocean: California Coastal Conservancy; "Rock Stacking" - Robert Sommer
