This is the fourth instalment in a series of blog posts by Climate Sense Intern Alexis Bulman, who is sharing monthly insights into her research, creative process and artistic explorations as she works with us to develop community-engaged artworks and programming around climate change adaptation.
In my second blog post I outlined the early concept of Lilian’s House, which would be a sculpture, an art installation and a performance all at once. Constructed, it would take the form of a small aging house, situated on a river embankment where it will live in tandem with a living shoreline. Lilian’s House would be an artwork about finding balance between hope and loss, life and death, the past and the future amidst a changing climate.
As I enter into the fifth month of my ClimateSense position I can say with excitement that Lilian’s Place (renamed from Lilian’s House) will begin construction later this month! In this month's blog post, I’ll share literature that inspired the project and a few sketchbook pages documenting my creative process.
Image description: Two white sketchbook pages divided by a coiled spine. Left page depicts several black ink sketches of house shapes with small handwriting, at the top of the page is a green graphic showing four house shapes, centred is a colour graphic of a cedar house. Right page depicts a drawn light brown cedar house, centred on a white page
Lilian’s Place won’t have any windows or doors; instead, its minimalist design will invite viewers to project their own nostalgia or meaning of home onto the sculpture. With no defining characteristics, the house also serves as a backdrop for the seasonal plant life and generational growth of the landscape.
Image description: Three sketchbook pages. Left page is white with dried wild flowers at the bottom. Right page is white with a colourful collage of wild flowers and plants. Overlapping both pages in the centre is a half flipped white sketchbook page with colourful drawn and labeled wild flowers and plants
In the hopes that Lilan’s Place might coexist with a living shoreline, I researched species of trees, shrubs and grasses native to PEI, many of which would be incorporated into the living shoreline design as their roots are crucial for stabilizing shorelines and preventing erosion. I filled pages of my sketchbook with pressed wildflowers, drawings and collages of illustrated plant encyclopedia imagery. I wondered how the plants in the pages of my sketchbook would experience Lilan’s Place.
Image description: 9 small zines by Kristian Brevik displayed on a wooden surface and photographed from above. Along the top of the photograph are three potted plants, along the right side are three planted seedlings
Kristian Brevik is a collaborator of The River Clyde Pageant, and recently his collection of zines caught my attention. Art for Fish stood out as a favourite — where he writes, “How do we make art for fish? -What are some ways we already make art for fish? Is ecological restoration art? Are artificial reefs ‘architecture food fish’? Are fishing lures art for fish? Fishing lures might aim to ‘captivate’ the audience of fish by looking like a beautiful snack. Some types of fishing lure aim to mimic real prey- the way photographic paintings and sculptures might.” Kristian expands on these ideas by posing another question: “Why make art for fish? -Human-centeredness makes us remote and isolated from the knowledge and worlds of other species”. The zine also quotes Val Plumwood, “By walling ourselves off from nature in order to exploit it, we also lose certain abilities to situate ourselves as part of it”.
Kristian’s provocations align with the sort of questions I’ve been exploring in my sketchbook, questions like: How might water, air, plants, insects and animals engage with Lilian’s Place? How might we collaborate?
Image description: Two white sketchbook pages divided by a coiled spine. Left page depicts a collage layout of flower images, building graphics and black font. Right page depicts a drawn grey cedar house, centered on a white page
Lilian’s Place will experience the fullness of each season. Planted perennial bulbs will flower, bushes will blossom, leaves will change color and fall, and blankets of snow will cover the house structure. As years pass the structure will age and its once young, bright wood will turn a weathered grey color. The plants will mature and over time partially or completely engulf the structure with their foliage. Lilian’s Place will offer substance to pollinators, encourage wildlife return and welcome human visitors to its doorstep.
Cedar shingles turn grey as they age, this “weathered” look happens naturally as the wood is exposed to sunlight and moisture. If exposed to salt water, weathering happens rapidly. If plants or other structures block sunlight and moisture from reaching the cedar shingles then those areas won’t age as rapidly. With this in mind, Lilian’s Place will be a reflection of, and a collaboration with the riverside landscape.
While working through Lilan’s Place in my sketchbook I decided to change the title from Lilian’s House to Lilian’s Place because I couldn’t help but wonder if a house is a ‘home’, or if a place is where ‘homes’ are housed, and if the latter is true, is ‘home’ a building or a place?
Image description: photograph with a hand with blue nail polish holding up a novel with a blue nature scene on the cover and titled “Mourning Nature” with trees in the the background
Mourning Nature, edited by Ashlee Cunsolo and Karen Landman, is a collection of writings centred upon the recognition and expression of emotions related to environmental degradation. The novel explores the nuanced ways grief is experienced and draws on classical, philosophical, artistic, and poetic elements to explain environmental melancholia.
“Within geography and anthropology much work has been done on phenomenology and perception to rethink place as dwelling and being-in-the-world. Place arises through presence- both of the body and of the multi-sensory landscape that surrounds it. -Place is not only landscape seen, smelled, heard, touched and tasted, but also landscape remembered through these very senses. -The fleeting nature of place and its complex relation with memory means that in this sense, place is a slippery becoming that can never be completed, and therefore ‘places are passings’ that haunt us.” -In the Absence of Sparrows, written by Helen Whale and Franklin Ginn.
Like dilapidated barns in the country, Lilian’s Place may someday slump and fall into the earth, returning to the place from which it’s building materials once came. If the living shoreline is supported and maintained, the established ecosystem should live on, nourished, not harmed, by Lilian’s Place.
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Next month I hope to have photos to share of Lilan’s Place under construction!