[notes on performative lines]

Contrast is the primary way we perceive the world. Without seeing something's opposite, the thing being observed is imperceptible. From studies in color theory to research in how people physically sense the world, contrast is critical to our experience of the world. For example, our body only becomes aware of ambient temperature by a marked change in temperature. It is the change itself that triggers our proprieceptors. Or take the eye which registers objects either by a change in the quality of light on the surface of one thing or by the comparison of light hitting two adjacent objects differently.

A line in landscape is the point of contrast to natural forms and to the elements. And so a stagnant line is performative. Meaning aside, it is a datum, a marker, a point of contrast, a perceptual cue. It allows us to register form, depth, age, color, texture. A line is perhaps one the of the greatest quantifiers of all time, yet its ability to measure quality is profound. Is this perhaps why humans have been so intent on making lines in the natural landscape for our entire existence? They create a sharp register not only of what exists, but of our existence. 

Beach Line by the author, Point Reyes seashore, California

River Lines follow contour lines, American River, California, by the author 

Mountain Lines in progress also follow contour lines, reducing erosion, American River, California by the author

Images from human lines in landscape from past civilizations to present. Below are the remarkable Nazca Lines in Peru whose purpose is still debated: lines to be noticed by the gods, celestial navigation markers, constellation renderings, UFO runways, and on...

Nazca Lines, Representational
source: Martin St-Amant, Wikipedia, CC-BY-SA-3.0

Nazca Lines, Peru c. 400-650AD
source: http://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/Newsroom/NewImages/images.php3?img_id=5103

Earth artists of the mid-20th century used line at geologic scale. Here, Michael Heizer's Double Negative at Mormon Mesa, Nevada, about which the artist said, "There is nothing there, yet it is still a sculpture." We continue to be obsessed with this work and other great landforming line works of human civilization.

Double Negative
source link

Aerial view of Double Negative
source: Michael Heizer, World Art Web Kiosk

Double Negative from the ground

Or Agnes Denes' Tree Mountain - A Living Time Capsule, a reconstructed and reforested mountain at the Pinziö gravel pits near Ylöjärvi, Finland:

Source: Agnes Denes

Here, images not of ancient settlements, but of the ephemeral Black Rock City that is created and destroyed annually at the Burningman event in Nevada:

From art to quotidienne, we draw lines in everyday landscapes for purpose and efficiency. Here maple syrup tap lines criss cross the woods of the American Northeast:

Maple Syrup Tap Lines, Vermont
Source: Ron Hay Photoraphy 2010, flickr

A Landscape Architecture Practice on the Ground

Every landscape architect will tell you that his work is based on the ground. This summer I'm exploring what that means, how it translates to design, and how important it is to my own practice. I'm testing 5 projects at 5 sites over 5 months.

Today and for one more month I'm on 2 + 3 near Zion National Park in southwest Utah with Peter Stempel + Form Tomorrow, a visionary architect and his equally relevant non-profit.

The offices + sites of Form Tomorrow (1 trail, 1 river, and an evening desk)  

PROJECT 2 

Colorado River tributary watershed analysis + planning project (Virgin River)

Appropriately dubbed "Wade and Map", this project complements parallel regional efforts by governmental and non-governmental organizations to survey the Upper Virgin River. Ours lies in contrast to their work, however, in that theirs relies on aerial imagery and GIS and LIDAR mapping to understand ground and water, ours relies on some of the same yes, but mostly on observations from well, the ground and water. We started simply by walking down the Virgin River. 44 miles through Zion National Park to St George, Utah through 18 watersheds, 5 towns, deep canyons, and farmland. From pristine riverine corridors to rip rap ranch embankments and riverfront second homes, we inspected every bend and undercut bank, dodging flash flood warnings, electrified barbed wire, 105-degree desert days, and tubing European tourists most of the way. I'm pleased to report that it was fun, uncomfortable at times, and invaluably productive. Walking an entire stretch of river, in addition to GIS mapping and analysis over time, allowed us to really understanding how this river and all of its tiny parts work as a system. And more importantly, to translate this data into tools and images that any planner, conservationist, or citizen can use to make informed strategic planning and localized design decisions along this valuable river and its watersheds in the future.

Virgin River Case Studies in progress, S. Dabney

PROJECT 3
250 acre trail network on BLM, USFS + mining land (Leeds Creek. near St George UT)

This design project was kicked off not with a powerpoint presentation but with a brunch. Like many other projects, it was a reminder that working on the ground means working with people in the community. Not simply being introduced or presenting findings to them, but exchanging digits. Enjoying dinner with LoAnne and reading the articles she passes along; talking western US land politics over fried scones at Glen and Jane's; shooting the breeze with Glen at his Native American jewelry store; going to a sweat lodge with Glen's friend; going to boring and overly dramatic town hall meetings; getting a sense of the site through them and through their stories and guidance. It was one distinct morning though, pausing on a plant walk with Clarence--a Paiute elder--that the site became a place for me as I watched him watch generations of stories and sufferings, plant spirits and rock spirits, and the everything of that moment rise into the dawn as it stretched over this red cliff desert expanse.

Getting to know this place and where the trails would start, pass through, and end happened slowly. One full first day. A couple of early mornings. One late night with two rattlesnakes. An afternoon in a torrential downpour, yet most in 100-degree plus blazing sun on foot, on a bike, in 4-wheel-drive vehicles. Our team designed the trails with our bodies as much as with our minds, in the same ways that people who use the trails in the future will. It required countless false starts, two melted shoe soles, shoddy GPS apps, jumping off little cliffs, and surveillance-camera-trespassing. Most of all it required discarding lazy trust in or reliance on aerial maps or images to tell the whole truth. 

We're wrapping up design of the trail system, vetting them with stakeholders including LoAnne and the community, the US Forest Service, Fish and Wildlife, and infamous Utah BLM (see the NYTimes article that came out last week) that has been a great advocate of our work and our process. Meaning the maps aren't published yet, but everyone involved--from the bureaucrats to the brunch bunch--has expressed collective interest in moving forward and ensuring the project moves forward at the same clip. Keep your eyes open for new BLM maps and trails in the Silver Reef and Red Cliffs area north of the St George mountain biking and hiking mecca for the results of our work.

After just 2 1/2 months of working on the ground, my ideas of my practice during this trial period are starting to shift beyond my 5-month horizon. Signing off for the night; Dale's stopping by early to take us on a ride in the back of his pickup to Babylon, the as-yet-unexplored-section of the area's future trail network.

[notes on a real imaginary place]

I suppose I'm naturally drawn to places that make my imagination go wild. So when I turn to my design board, this is one of those little corners in my mind where I turn for inspiration. Some images from and adventure in Oman where surreal trumps mundane...

Before descending into this rich oasis...