The Cistercians founded this gothic abbey in Chorin/Brandenburg in 1258.
After centuries of power and influence, secularization in the 16th century led to a long decay, until it was partially restored under Karl Friedrich Schinkel in the 19th century.
For me, it is a place of contemplation:
Walls and missed opportunities
Passages and impossibilities
Age and decay
Time and loss
At this time of the year, the monthlong
Brown here in the Midwest is broken by the appearance of the first Spring wildflower, the . Snow Trillium
written too often about it.
At the same time of the year, the Pacific woods already burst with wildflowers.
Here we see the Trillium ovatum, whose white flowers slowly turn pink while they age.
The threefold symmetry sees the occasional exception with the appearance of a
, which has fourfold symmetry, like the four leaf clover. With astonishment I saw here a specimen with two-fold symmetry of leaves, petals, stamen and sepals. quadrillium Duollium?
Here are some impressions from Tauba Auerbach’s exhibition
S v Z at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art.
Their work has been concerned with traditional questions of art – interactions of shape, matter, light, and how to represent them.
The stubborn simplicity of patterns (repetitions in space, iterations in time) is contrasted with a granular reality of the objects themselves, or that of the medium which is chosen to represent them.
Altar/Engine (Details), 2015
Alphabetized Bible, 2006. Bent Onyx, 2012
Non-Invasive Procedure (Detail), 2018
A Flexible Fabric of Inflexible Parts (Details), 2015
Stab/Ghost, 2013. 7S, 7Z, 1S, 2Z (Detail), 2019
Our human sense of time is deeply flawed — linear, homocentric, short.
The majestic redwoods of the Pacific Northwest capture our centuries in moments of their existence – past, present and future become one.
Each year a circle, circle after circle, in perpetuity.
Time here has become space that is occupied by fragile instances of hope.
Burnt, scarred, fractured, hollowed, and yet still alive, stubbornly providing support for what is more important.
We humans have managed to reproduce the size of these trees in our cities. However, what we have missed is to also capture the organic beauty of every little detail, each sliver of bark.
We still haven’t acquired the patience and the determination to allow something to happen.
Let’s not forget that trees will remember us when we are all gone.
My first visit to
Fern Canyon in summer was shear awe, with the abundance of fern and growth. In winter, time seems to be in balance.
Everything is suspended, in space and time. This is a moment of not-knowing, of anxiety.
After descending into the canyon, the intense presence of water shows how everything is in flux. Are we ready?
Curiously, the walls of the canyon give safety and comfort and embrace.
The walls move back and forth, and eventually recede and relax.
Are you there, too?