Digital mockup of a “stained glass” window for The Chapel of Natural Intelligence. 10’ x 6.5’ (composed of twenty-seven digital photographs, each 12”x 20”).
The Chapel of Natural Intelligence started on a walk when I was at a residency in rural France. Field Maple trees lined the small road I was on; I asked if they would collaborate with me.
The answer was not what I expected or wanted. “Grind up our leaves! We want to be the medium, not the subject, for once!”
This felt barbaric to me. The irony was not lost on me, since we grind up leaves on a regular basis and call it salad, but I told them it wasn’t happening and asked for another idea. About ten days later it came: ‘Ok, then. Take our leaves and stack them.’
Details from “The Chapel of Natural Intelligence”
Something extraordinary and wholly unexpected happened. An extreme heatwave seized France and we catapulted into a wildly accelerated autumn. It was late July, but leaves were changing color–and dropping–all around. And so, the Field Maples got both wishes. I did stack their leaves (which led to this project) and, in a parallel project, ground their leaves (which proved to be sheer joy).
As I stacked, I realized I was making a piece named “The Chapel of Natural Intelligence” (the name did not come from me). I could visualize the fully realized project and I also understood the methods I would have to develop to get there.
Digital mockup of a “stained glass” window for the Chapel of Natural Intelligence 10’ x 6.5’ (composed of twenty-seven digital photographs, each 12”x 20”).
The Chapel of Natural Intelligence creates a dedicated space for the timeless human practice of invocation – becoming quiet and humbly appealing to a larger intelligence for help. In the place of a deity, however, The Chapel asks us to open to plant neighbors to receive wisdom and direction for negotiating life on our shared planet.
Our zingy, human brains make it hard for other species to reach us. The Chapel of Natural Intelligence is designed, on multiple levels, to offer respite for loud minds and facilitate interspecies communication. To my great surprise, it emerged as a piece that clearly echoes sacred imagery. Perhaps this is because we are primed to settle down in church-like spaces. Quite possibly, it is for a reason I don’t yet understand. It is intended for construction in winter, or in urban spaces, where relationships with our tree neighbors can feel tremendously hard to find.
In addition to offering respite and connection, the Chapel of Natural Intelligence affords me a chance to study how we can build a resonant, durable field over time. What happens when people interact with it at different times, their attention and intention accumulating? How can I, as an artist, create components and interventions that add layers of resonance over time? These are questions that start here but will, I know, fuel my practice for some time to come.
(The Chapel of Natural Intelligence is a work in progress).