Sunday, March 28, 2010

Process: Green Ribbons


Went to a photo exhibition by André Denis entitled L’échangeur Turcot – Entre ciel et terre at la Maison de la culture Marie-Uguay. In an accompanying text, Jean Décarie described how the intertwining structure of the Turcot was seen as a work of art when it was inaugurated in the 60s — in time for Expo 67. He recalled how this autoroute was once seen as a symbol of progress in the “automobile age”, but had since become a symbol of pollution by today’s environmental standards. Despite its crumbling structure, this exaustive photo series of the Turcot clearly reveals a majestic sort of beauty and grandeur; what Décarie terms the “cathedral effect”.

In the artist statement, Denis writes:

“C’est une immense sculpture en béton dont le seul but est de maintenir en hauteur, comme s’il devait enjamber un lac invisible, le point de joinction de ces grands axes routiers montréalais.”

Indeed this “invisible lake” was called Lac aux Loutres, situated at a point where the Rivière Saint-Pierre once widened into wetlands. It made me think of an interesting article by André Desroches that I had read recently in La Voix Pop (Projet de création d'une trame verte, 25 mars 2010). He interviewed Patrick Asch, the director of Héritage Laurentien. Founded in the mid-nineties, this organization works at protecting and promoting natural areas in the Saint-Laurent valley, the South-West of Montreal in particular.

The article focused on the “Trame verte” project, which would help create green corridors in the South-West. For example, a green corridor could potentially link parc Angrigon to parc des Rapides, a migrating bird sanctuary. Another corridor could link to the “falaise Saint-Jacques” or to Meadowbrook at the junction of Saint-Pierre, Lachine and Montreal-West. Not only would these green “ribbons” allow migratory birds and fauna to move freely, the public could use alternative modes of transport with cycling, walking and snowshoeing trails.

Asch promoted the numerous benefits of a green corridor: the improvement in air quality; the reduction of the effect of urban heat islands; the absorption of greenhouse gases; and the creation of recreational and tourist attractions for South-West communities.

 


View larger map of the Trame verte du Grand Sud-Ouest

 

In Facebook (Une trame verte pour le grand sud-ouest de Montréal), there is a link to an article about the Bronx River Greenway. An inspiring success story in that community: there are plans underway in the South Bronx to build a recreational trail connecting a series of parks on the East River waterfront.

Closer to home, there is the Greenbelt: a 20,000-hectare expanse of land in Ottawa-Gatineau with an extensive trail system passing through wetlands, farmlands and forests. Having worked in Ottawa off and on for the last five years, I can appreciate the benefits of this unique green corridor. One summer when living in Westboro, I cycled 40 km a day using the Greenbelt to commute to Kanata. On an almost daily basis, I would see Canada geese, deer and other small animals near the cycling paths and adjoining fields. Though that daily commute obviously increased my fitness level, it also provided me with emotional well being — the needed time and space to unwind after a long day. As an asthma sufferer, it was also a relief to breathe in clean air, as the trail system diverted me from the stress and fumes of heavy traffic.

From this first hand experience, I do not need to be sold on the importance of the “Trame verte” project for Montrealers. The ongoing plans to replace the Turcot Interchange could benefit from projects such as the one put forward by Héritage Laurentien. Instead of focusing solely on the replacement of the Turcot structure itself, which would simply promulgate the car culture of the 60s, a more holistic approach is needed to take in consideration the wider implications of this new autoroute for the people living in the area and determine the ecological footprint. With a little bit of vision, this could prove to be a success story for Montreal “down the road”.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Process: Motivated aimlessness


Since I was working in Ottawa, I was able to attend le Centre national des Arts for the unveiling of Le Théâtre français’ 2010-2011 season by artistic director Wajdi Mouawad. Winnipeg artist Diana Thorneycroft’s work was selected to accompany a new roster of programming centered around the idea of kitsch as a "normalization" process — Le kitsch nous mange. The next day I attended Rencontres du midi, a discussion between Mouawad and the Théâtre français’ previous artistic director Denis Marleau (2000-2007). Felt privileged to be able to listen in, as I only knew Marleau’s work by reputation, particularly Théâtre Ubu and Les aveugles (2002). As of yet, I still had not seen his work in representation.

It was a very generous exchange and at one point, keeping to the idea which underlines the 2009-2010 season (Nous sommes en manque), Wajdi asked Marleau « qu'est-ce qui lui manque? »

Loosely paraphrased:

Marleau a répondu qu’il y a un manque d’intercesseurs. Il y a un sentiment dans le monde occidental que nous sommes isolés, laissés à soi-même. Il y a un manque de rencontre, de dialogue sur la création. Nous sommes dans un monde axé sur la performance, hypermédiatisé et qui valorise la communication, mais qui révèle en même temps un manque de véritable dialogue.

Il lamente la primauté des gestes productifs (en ce qui concerne la rentabilité) aux dépens de la liberté du geste créatif. Il déplore le manque de la valorisation de la recherche en ce moment.

Marleau cherche à vivre une expérience à travers les répétitions, il n’est déjà plus là lors de la représentation. L’œuvre théâtrale ne lui appartient plus. Il valorise le travail de fabrication avec les acteurs.

I took notes during the discussion; his thoughts aligned with my interest in the creative process. That state of not necessarily knowing where you are going, that initial exploratory stage. In a capitalist society, this could indeed be seen as "unproductive time" as you cannot easily make a profit with aimlessness.

It came to me in a flash why I was not satisfied with the Tongue Rug mock-up that I had created in a previous post, as it was too illustrative, more like a theatrical object in a scenic decor. It will serve a specific purpose in the overall project, but if I want to track time, I need more abstract symbols like the Path Map. Lev Manovich’s words in The Anti-Sublime Ideal in Data Art (2002) came to mind.

“For me, the real challenge of data art is not about how to map some abstract and impersonal data into something meaningful and beautiful – economists, graphic designers, and scientists are already doing this quite well. The more interesting and at the end maybe more important challenge is how to represent the personal subjective experience of a person living in a data society. If daily interaction with volumes of data and numerous messages is part of our new “data-subjectivity,” how can we represent the experience in new ways?” (13)

I realized that two previous documentation attempts were more suited to animating the sladdakavring: Tongue Rug I (Google Map) and Tongue Rug I (Blog Posts Table). Though I could easily automate this tracking process, doing the animations by hand is more in tune with the project. I want a slower, more ritualized process as repetitive tasks offers time to reflect. Si je suis en train de documenter mon emploi du temps, il est nécessaire que le rituel lui-même prenne du temps pour aboutir à quelque chose.

Tongue Rug I (Google Map)
While this map would track waypoints (tongues) in time, it would also represent the tension between two states (control/lost) — what Manovich termed « arbitrary versus motivated choices in mapping ». (10) My motivated choices include the selection of placenames and my efforts to reach their physical locations; the arbitrary quotient is the haphazard reunification of these names through the process of adoption (Lapalme/Legault/Angerbauer), their random sampling in the landscape and my mishaps in trying to reach their physical locations. And of course, this map is upside down.

Tongue Rug II (Blog Posts Table)
While this table would track the posts (tongues) in time, it would also represent the tension between between two states (control/unknown). The rhythm and subject matter of my blog postings reveal my motivated choices, but I have no control over the arbitrary nature of commenting. Potential public interaction becomes the unknown factor.


Is this blogging exercise indicative of Manovich's "data society" or just my feeble attempts to reach some beautiful ideal, to make meaningful representations of my emploi du temps? Or is my aim with Tongue Rug closer to what Marleau talked about in regards to his creative process? An excuse to live an experience. The disquieting but necessary process of not knowing — to tentatively feel my way around through the process of exploration and let the project shape itself. Un processus de découverte au fil de l’eau, en parcourant fleuves, rivières, lacs et ruisseaux.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Process: Filling in the spaces


Blogger's Labels feature sorts the Tongue Rug dynamically: the tongues with the most postings feature at the top of the list. Based on this ordering, I created a table that documents the posts in time. I then created a second table where I omitted the tongues with only one posting — all undocumented waypoints. Though some of the tongues that have not been documented have many postings, it is because they surface through fictional accounts, they exist only in the imaginary. For instance, as I most likely will not travel to the Swedish bodies of water, these tongues become somewhat mythic.

2001
2002
2003
2005
2009
2010
#
PA-1
(4)
(3)
(7)
A-10
(1)
(2)
(2)
(5)
A-3
(1)
(1)
(2)
(1)
(5)
LA-5
(1)
(4)
(5)
LE-4
(1)
(4)
(5)
A-11
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
A-13
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
A-2
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
A-9
(3)
(1)
(4)
LA-3
(1)
(3)
(4)
LA-4
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
LA-6
(3)
(1)
(4)
LE-1
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
LE-10
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
LE-3
(3)
(1)
(4)
LE-6
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
LE-8
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
LE-9
(3)
(1)
(4)
MO-1
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
S-1
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
S-2
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
S-3
(1)
(2)
(1)
(4)
LA-1
(1)
(1)
(2)


As I have not yet posted my map tracings (threads), there is a block of time with undocumented activity. The painstaking tracing of my passage. Yet this is precisely what I like about the blog structure — that you can post back in time. Filling in the spaces.

I'll need to update this table through time. Though there is certainly an automatic way of doing this by tracking the feeds, it is more à propos to adopt a more manual process of tracking data. Central to the craftmanship of creating an object — an patchwork rug in this case — is human error and fancy; the unpredictability of the choices one makes throughout the creative process that can alter the final form.



I am surprised at how regulated these tongues are once isolated from the table, though of course they are constrained by a grid of rows and columns. The diagram also indicates that I work in spurts. This Tongue Rug Table is quite the opposite of the traditional sladdakavring whose essence is slightly chaotic with its overlapping tongues.