Category Archives: Incremental Change

Understanding Buster Simpson’s Changing Identity

Buster Simpson underwent a gradual change in his artistic career. He started as a performance artist, acting as the Woodman, gathering building debris from the streets of Seattle, and dumpster diving. 

dumpster diving

Image from Buster Simpson // Surveyor 

Screenshot 2016-03-04 17.05.14

Image from Buster Simpson // Surveyor 

The Woodman is the epitome of incremental change. Whether or not he did anything with the materials he gathered, the streets were slowly cleaned. Yet the narrative propagated by these performances do not only impart a simple story of reusing materials. In fact, Jo-Anner Birnie underlines the subtly of this character quite effectively. She views him as bringing to attention the utopian goals of modern urbanization. By picking up each and every small piece of wood and discarded building material and piling them on his back, he is demonstrating the great lengths that go we go to create an artificial urban environment, clean from trash or useless materials sitting about, while in reality the buildings we craft are no more permanent than his sculptures of reclaimed materials (7). It is only a question of the degree of the force of nature. Wind and rain can will carry away small things, but intense storm and flooding will just as easily wipe away these larger interventions into the natural biophysical world. 

 

“Everywhere we look, it is becoming harder to distinguish the rural from the urban.”

 -Carol Yinghua Loo 

 

Image from Catching Zebra 

The installation Downspout-Plant Life Monitoring System is an example of the artist’s foray into sculpture, attempting to bridge the gap between nature and the city. The work itself consists of a simple fern growing from the rain-pipe attached to the side of a building. It is a small intervention, an incremental change to the fabric of the city, adding a small bit of green to an otherwise monotony of brick. Just like the Woodman, who leveraged incremental change to ascertain materials, Downspout also performs some function, de-acidifying the water running through the pipes (Matilsky 92-93). The three elements of Simpson’s work are well represented here- “[elegant] simplicity, cost [efficacy], and [easy implementation] on a large scale in cities around the country (96).”

Tree Guards

Image from Buster Simpson // Surveyor 

Tree Guards is primarily interested in directly displaying a message, just like the visceral image of a man burdened by the massive piles of wood he has collected from the streets. It speaks to incremental change in the environment, caused by humans. Lawrimore points that even the the meager attempts made by city planners, planting trees for example, are under threat by the inhabitants of the city themselves. They are often damaged as a result of drunken incidents on the sidewalk or street. (57). The tying of a crutch to a fledging urban tree is an elegantly simple way to bring attention back to nature and also offer a creative “solution” to the problems that urban trees face.

Image from Art and Politics Now

When the Tide is out the Table is Set also does not have a direct use, by instead serves as a way to monitor the toxicity of bodies of water surrounding Seattle. By leaving cast concrete plates in water for a time and then removing them, Simpson exposes the presence of toxins in the water, in the form of buildup on these plates (Matilsky 94). These plates were made by Simpson during a residency. This introduces the idea, oft seen in Simpson’s work, that humanity always has a direct hand in the affecting the environment, even when they are in the act of “restoring” it. A “technology”, the plates in this example, had to be invented for use in showing how humans affect the environment. The irony here is that the material used, concrete, is formed by separating out rocks and sand from the environment and re-fashioning them with human labor. This, of course, had an effect on the ecosystem from which the rock and sand was extracted. Even when in the process of monitoring, in the hopes of mitigating, environmental degradation in one region, this process directly contributed to it in another area.

This sort of subtle humor is explored further by Simpson in the titling of this work. It comes from an old Salish saying that conveyed the idea that the bountiful clean waters had produced a meal, yet Simpson’s work shows the opposite (95). The waters are no longer safe, and there is a certain dark humor in the use of that saying. This dark humor was essential part of a memorable performance of the Woodman in 1974. In an interview, Simpson recounts how he had gathered so much wood that when he stooped to grab more, he drops some of it (Lawrimore 92). He is forced into an odd dance that acts as a metaphor for the enduring efforts of humanity to elude itself when the environment is considered. We have already gone far in destroying the natural rhythms of the environment. Now we are attempting to restore the damage we have done, but we want to do it in a way that seems “natural”.

Image from Greg Kucera Gallery 

We place root wads in riparian areas to help the river, but once they have been placed the story of human intervention in that area is silenced. Simpson humorously exposes this delusion in Secured Embrace. In the video, Buster Simpson on “Secured Embrace” at The Frye Museum, he describes the work as the “new woodman”. Upon further prompting about this statement he jokingly points out that the concrete structures that are tied to the log and serve to anchor it in the water are vaguely anthropomorphic. The final intent of the art piece is to be placed in a river to help restore its natural flows, but the large concrete structures that will remain continue to tell the story of human intervention. This also subtly makes a jab at the art world, wherein objects are usually rendered useless when they become “art”. Simpson’s work is anything but useless, while still functioning as “art” evidence by its placement in a museum. The Woodman has always been about showing what effect one person can have on their surrounding environment. In the case of the Woodman that environment was the city and the act served to bring attention to how our societal structures negatively affected some of the people that inhabited it, namely, the homeless. The large building projects from which the Woodman collected material were not low-income housing units. They were usually high-rises. There is a parallel with Secured Embrace here. This time, however; the environment being considered is the biophysical environment and the work is bringing to the public’s attention how those same societal structures are negatively affecting a different population, the species that make up our riparian ecosystems. In this second case, Simpson was very intentional in making sure that it was obvious the humans had a direct hand in this “restoration”, just as they had in its original degradation.

Image from Pinterest 

A primary takeaway from Buster Simpson, I believe, is that small, deliberate changes, which contribute to society in a way that is pleasing or fulfilling, can carry a big impact. The final work I will discuss illustrates this above idea very clearly. Simpson’s work Exchanger Fountain is very simple. It consists of a drinking fountain that is in a symbiotic relationship with the Willow tree adjacent to it. The gray water from the fountain (the water that isn’t drunk) spills on to rock below the fountain. As the water evaporates, this process cools the pipes carrying water to the drinking fountain’s users, as well as watering the Willow tree (Oakes 123). Not only does this odd installation afford the users a break from the regularity of normal urban trees, but it also raises a question,

Why can’t more of our city’s spaces be put to simultaneously practical and artistic use?

How much more life does this simple and sustainable way of envisioning a drinking fountain add to the city than the customary separation of this two objects of civic life?

Simpson shows us that there is abundant room in our world to experiment creatively and constructively. When users drink from this fountain, they do not just get the nourishment of water, they also see their own faces amid the leaves of the Willow leaves (Allan 192). These subtle gestures, pairing the fountain with a tree and creating a space where people can see their reflections, inspire in the users thoughts of how their own relationship with water interacts with the flow of water on a wider scale. City dwellers often only think of water as the liquid pumped through underground pipes and appearing in their homes. The struggle of obtaining water is absent, as is the everyday exaltation in its life-sustaining properties. Inscribed on Exchanger Fountain is the phrase “The water kissing your lips is an offering (192).” This inscription serves as the final way in which the piece causes the viewer/user to reflect on the often unseen and neglected beauty of the natural world and its life-giving cycles.

Image from Daily Journal of Commerce 

Widespread change to our increasingly large urban environments is an equally difficult task to conceive of and to put into motion. Building codes, statues, land use policies, apathy, and the feeling that one person’s contribution cannot make any sizable difference are all challenges that any urban innovator will face. Buster Simpson, in typical fashion, was able to find a way to begin affecting change despite these challenges. In a collaboration project called Growing Vine Street, Simpson helped transform the Vine Street area into a catalyst for sustainable solutions to urban problems related to sustainability, polluting, and runoff water (Thompson 222). This is remarkable because it demonstrates the power which art and science can wield in collaboration. What was essentially a sculpture park created an environment for others, with different mindsets and different backgrounds, to use the space to test out green ideas. The location also served as a community garden (222), which stays true to Simpson’s philosophy that “art in public” should have practical use value.  A prime example is Cistern Steps -a project Simpson planned and implemented with community involvement. A series of tiered basins collects rainwater which flows from condo roofs, uses this water to nourish native species planted in the basins, and then directs it to Puget Sound (Bloom 60). The construction of this project involved the community, and is a way of subtly conveying the notion that more comprehensive and “ambitious” projects will be needed in the future (58). By elevating the water system above the ground and highlighting its movement in this way, the path that water takes through the city is made apparent, perfectly keeping in line with the eternal task of the Woodman – exposing the inner workings of the city and its ordinary rhythms.

The Science of Nurse Logs

What causes nurse logs?

   In Nurse logs in a coastal Oregon forest, Shel Marcuvitz recounts that “trees often do not fall until they have been standing for a time and may have some of the characteristics of the rotten wood before they fall to the ground (4).” In other words, nurse logs are not a simple phenomenon that has a singular cause. Based on my research, they are not even limited to a single type of forest. Shel Marcuvits discuses the forests of the Pacific Northwest in his thesis, and included in it are the results of many other scientists that study this, and related phenomena which will be discussed later, in this same region. In Importance of nurse logs as a substrate for the regeneration of pioneer tree species on the Barro Colorado Island, Panama, Evelyn Sanchez, et. al. reports their findings on the vital role of nurse logs in maintaining biodiversity in the tropical forests of Panama.

   These tropical forests have markedly different climate than the forests of the Pacific North West. The Panamanian Forests have a four-month dry season (Sanchez 430) contrasted with the PNW forests in which the dry season is mitigated by the presence of summer fogs (Macuvits 14). Decaying wood is also superior to the soil substrate in the forests of the Western Carpathians, even though it is often not as common to find tree starts growing there (J. Szewczyk 45). Even though the forest is once again different, in this case a temperate forest (37), nurse logs are still present. They even play role in the forests in the Far East, where Fukasawa reports that “small seeded pioneer tree species Clethra barbinervis (Ericales) were found to be preferentially established on rotting fallen logs of the Japanese red pine Pinus desiflora (1).” There is something universal about this act of decaying wood serving, in many cases, as the most desirable places for new trees to grow. These logs are part of the natural lifecycle of the forest. 

Why does one find more tree starts on decaying wood than regular soil?

Across all the studies I read, the results are inconclusive. There is always a certain amount of subjectivity involved when one is examining rotting logs on the forest floor to determine things such as their decay class. Marcuvitz concludes that it is much too complex to determine a single factor that makes a rotten piece of wood any better than say, a mound of soil on the forest floor. He does tentatively put forth the idea that a major factor could be that there is less competition for nutrients and sunlight for tree starts on decaying wood than on the forest floor (69). The theory of less competition leading to increased seedling density on nurse logs is echoed by other researchers. Sanchez conveys that these sites not only “decrease competition” but they also “increase light availability”, and “provide refuges from fungal pathogens” (430). This is an example of how complex finding an answer to this question is. It is likely not one of these factors, but some combination of the three which allows these seedlings to have an increased change of survival on nurse logs. In the abstract of effects of wood decomposer fungi on tree seedling establishment on coarse woody debris, Fukasawa writes that a large buildup of debris on the forest floor is one factor that influences why they observe more tree seedlings sprouting on decaying logs, which generally are not host to as thick of a layer of debris, than on the forest floor (1). Similarly, Szewczyk mentions a study by by Harmon and Franklin in 1989 which concluded that in the forests of the western united states a certain species of tree was more often not able to sprout on the forest floor as a direct result of the intense competition, but he also discusses another idea in his paper. He puts forth the idea that it is only small seeds which cannot survive on the forest floor and that large seeds were not likely to be present on nurse logs (45). 

How do small seeds get onto nurse logs?

One of the first conclusions of nurse logs in a coastal Oregon rainforest, is that it is not practical to believe that random wind patterns are sufficient to explain why one sees these seeds growing more readily on nurse logs than on the forest floor. Perhaps there is some other natural agent at play? Initially, I had the thought that maybe these smaller seeds, since they are more likely to be present on nurse logs than larger seeds, were carried there by small animals. Alas, I came across the conclusion in Sanchez’s article that “animal-dispersed species also had a significantly greater proportion of their seedlings rooted in soil than did wind-dispersed species (432). It seems that this is not an adequate explanation. This topic is ripe for increased research. Although it is beyond the scope of this project, there are many other factors that could help explain why one more often sees small seeded tree species on decaying logs than on other substrates, such as the presence of special fungi on decaying logs that assist the seedlings in obtaining water, the varying moisture content of decaying bark, or the complicated relationships between specific species of tree and the untold number of microclimates that will influence when a seed is able to germinate. At the moment, I am obliged to agree with the statement that “apparently, there is something about rotten wood that is essential to tree seedling growth (Marcuvits 5).”

How is this related to the artist Buster Simpson?

Besides being exposed to a whole world of science that was before completely unknown to me, I also came across a finding the article importance of nurse logs as a substrate for the regeneration of pioneer tree species on Barro Colorado Island, Panama, the was not given much attention within the article, or in any other research I found, but it is of extreme relevance to my thought process concerning Buster Simpson and his motivation as an environmentally conscious artist in an urban environment. On page 434 of the article I found that “nurse logs…play an especially important role in initiating forest succession after agricultural abandonment.” Knowing this, Simpson’s Host Analog is imbued with deeper meaning. It can be seen as not only a spectacle where one is able to witness the curious property of decaying logs giving life to new trees, but also a metaphor for the idea that humans have had such an impact on the natural environment with urbanization, Portland being the example here, that it will take something as powerful as a nurse log to restore it. It also invokes the idea that should our cities one day become empty, processes such as this will overtake them.   

Why aren’t nurse logs used more often to restore areas that have been subject to environmental degradation?

The obvious answer is the forests where these nurse logs already are dependent upon them, and removing them would prove detrimental to the forest. Yet even if there were an abundant number of these logs, I do not think that they would be widely used as restoration tools. We as a society are primarily concerned with efficiency, even in our methods of restoration. The scope of a nurse log’s work, several hundred to one thousand years, is not applicable to the human way of thinking. We do not plan parks by position these decaying logs around an area and allow them to slowly consume it, guaranteeing biodiversity and healthy soil. Instead, we raise trees in nurseries and plant them in places we wish to restore once they have reached a certain height. In this way, it appears to us that we are making an immediate difference in that area. Restoration is something that we need to see for it to be effective in the public’s eyes. With this in mind, one is able to prove the necessity of artist’s such as Buster Simpson.

Another example of the idea that restoration is something that we need to see for it be effective in the public’s eyes. 

 Tetrapods are large concrete structures with three to four “arms” that protect the coastline against the ceaseless buffeting of the waves (Raunekk 3). They protect the shape of the coast, and thus allow people to appreciate the natural environment safely. At the same time, they are halting the natural process of erosion that the ocean is trying to inflict on its surrounding banks. These structures are useful because they allow people to experience the wildness of the ocean, in marked contrast the urban environments in which they likely dwell, and so from that perspective are useful to the goals of the environmentalist –to get people to appreciate the natural world. This comes at the expense of altering the course of the ocean’s waves and so in reality what is being experienced is a human constructed version of nature.

Where is the balance between appreciating the untamed natural world and altering it in ways that will ultimately benefit it? 

This is something I urge the reader to consider. Are we able to admit that even our actions to restore the environment are altering its natural cycles? Does unaltered nature, in any form, still exist anywhere in the world?