Tous droits réservés © Le Centre de diffusion 3D, 2013 Ce document est protégé par la loi sur le droit d’auteur. L’utilisation desservices d’Érudit (y compris la reproduction) est assujettie à sa politiqued’utilisation que vous pouvez consulter en ligne.https://apropos.erudit.org/fr/usagers/politique-dutilisation/

Cet article est diffusé et préservé par Érudit.Érudit est un consortium interuniversitaire sans but lucratif composé del’Université de Montréal, l’Université Laval et l’Université du Québec àMontréal. Il a pour mission la promotion et la valorisation de la recherche.https://www.erudit.org/fr/

Document généré le 28 juil. 2020 00:04

Espace Sculpture

Peter Hutchinson – With Nature in MindJohn K. Grande

Espace architecturéArchitectured SpaceNuméro 106, hiver 2013–2014

URI : https://id.erudit.org/iderudit/70726ac

Aller au sommaire du numéro

Éditeur(s)Le Centre de diffusion 3D

ISSN0821-9222 (imprimé)1923-2551 (numérique)

Découvrir la revue

Citer cet articleGrande, J. K. (2013). Peter Hutchinson – With Nature in Mind. Espace Sculpture,(106), 44–46.

44 E S P A C E 1 0 6 H I V E R 2 0 1 3 - 2 0 1 4

Born in England, Peter Hutchinson began as ageometric painter in close contact with minimalartists Sol LeWitt and Tadaaki Kuwayama.However, Hutchinson turned away from mini-malism and conceptualism’s rhetorical bent tofollow a more overtly poetic and nature-orientedpath. Being British born, Hutchinson sharessomething with past British poets and painterswho had a sense of the land. The landscapeorientation and physical commitment of RichardLong, Hamish Fulton and Peter Hutchinsoncontinues in the tradition of the great poets andpainters of the 18th and 19th century England,who include John Constable, WilliamWordsworth, and William Blake. JKG: Peter so nice to meet you. I was wondering if your earlyoutdoor interventions marked amove away from the New Yorkgallery scene?

PH: Robert Smithson was theone who talked about gettingout of the galleries, though henever did. I did not feel thatway, but added outside space as a showing opportunity whilealways realizing that thegalleries were necessary. In mycase, there was no audienceexcept through photography.The underwater interventionswere a way to use unused spacethat galleries could not access.So nature was the galleryspace…With the Foraging project(1970), I sense you conceived of it almost like a fable, a story,even a narration on experience...

Foraging in a way was a celebra-tion of escaping from the city of New York, where I lived for so long, although I went toProvincetown most summers.

The piece included exploration, love ofnature and botany, and gave me the oppor-tunity to make works in a pristine environ-ment without changing it. The film I made ofthis work was in my one-man show at Freightand Volume Gallery in New York this April.My Narrative Art work, where I place theletters of that phrase made from lime dust indifferent locations of New England, is aboutthose times when people could not read andthe bards and poets went around the countrytelling stories to the people.I believe the element of chance is importantin your art. We see it throughout, in ThrownRope exhibited at the Stedelijk Museum(1974), the Venice Biennale (1980), Weimar

University (1999), in Arp Thrown Rope (2001)and Thrown Rope for Artlantic, in AtlanticCity this year (2013). One is never sure whatthe result will be, and after a throw the linesthen become colourful gardens, drawing withflowers…Yes, I see chance as very important, so thatthe result is not entirely artificial. Some of it is beyond the artist’s control.And can you tell me about your variouscollaborations with Dennis Oppenheim?I met Dennis in the late 1960’s in New YorkCity during his show of models at JohnGibson Gallery. During my subsequent showat the Gibson Gallery, John Gibson found acollector who was willing to back my under-

Peter HUTCHINSON– With Nature in Mind Interview with John K. GRANDE

ENTRETIENINTERVIEW

Peter HUTCHISON, AnthraciteTriangle, 2009. Triangle sculp-ture with anthracite andmarble on grass. Located atArp Museum in Remagen,Germany. Photo: courtesy ofthe artist.

E S P A C E 1 0 6 H I V E R 2 0 1 3 - 2 0 1 4 45

< <

Peter HUTCHISON,Ghost Thrown Rope,1996. Weimar,Germany. Photo: courtesy of the artist.

Peter HUTCHISON, Dissolving Clouds, 1970.Photo collage with text. Photo: courtesy of theartist.

Peter HUTCHISON,Paricutin VolcanoProject, 1970. Photocollage on board. Photo:courtesy of the artist.

Peter HUTCHISON,Paricutin Volcano, 1970.100 yards of breadmould on the edge of avolcanic crater, Mexico.Photo: courtesy of theartist.

Peter HUTCHISON,Threaded Calabash,1969. Calabashthreaded on a rope inthe shape of an arc,underwater. Tobago,Republic of Trinidadand Tobago. Photo:courtesy of the artist.

46 E S P A C E 1 0 6 H I V E R 2 0 1 3 - 2 0 1 4

water projects. Dennis joined me in Tobago,where he constructed one underwater pieceand others on the beach and sea surface.Both Dennis’ and my work from this tripwere exhibited in a two-man show at MoMAin 1969 called Two Ocean Projects.The following summer we were both

offered the opportunity to make art inAspen, Colorado. We worked in the moun-tains on separate projects. One of mine wascalled Continental Divide, where I laid rocksin a line dividing a large snow bank. Anotherof my works from that time is DissolvingClouds, where I tried to dissolve a cloud with thought. Whether I caused it or not, thecloud did dissolve and I photographed ithappening. Phyllis, Dennis’ wife, was sittingnear by and I said to her. «...is this too easyfor an artwork?» Her reply was that some-times seemingly easy ideas are the best.Dennis and I were very early users of colourphotography as art.

What about this idea of an art that cannot beseen—the underwater project in Tobago,Antilles, where you set five gourds onto a ropenine metres under water. And you madeother underwater installations using oranges,onions, coal, roses… and more recently in1996 in St. Barts, West Indies. The environ-ment and the earth become a living museumor body you are dialoguing with. In this way,art cannot be always witnessed or put in acontainer/ forum / landscape/gallery...

Like so many temporary installations wherethere was no audience when they werecompleted, they could only be shown asphotographs. I found myself at odds on occasion with my contemporaries who madepermanent earthworks and therefore deniedthe legitimacy of photography in thismedium. Tom Wolfe’s book The Painted Wordmentions a work that I did for the show atLoveladies (New Jersey, circa ‘69), where I had

prepared bags of bread mould attachedalong a 15-foot rope. My plan was to swimout to sea and with bricks tied on either endof the rope, to sink it to the bottom, where itwould form an arc. Dressed in a scuba outfitand all alone, I began to back into the surfbut had second thoughts because it was veryrough seas. So I paid two nearby surfers totake the piece out and drop it for me. Thusthere was not even a photograph to provethis ever happened or existed. Wolfe consid-ered this to be the ultimate example of thede-materialization of art, though this maynot be the exact term Wolfe used in thebook.It must have been quite wonderful to makeart in the land before Land Art had become a genre… With works like the ParicutinVolcano Project (1970) in the Mexican stateof Michoacán where you brought 450 lbs. of crumbled bread and set it up along thevolcano’s perimeter to witness the interactionand mould growth that resulted… Did theParicutin Volcano Project naturally developout of earlier project actions or did youproduce it on the spot, an action in the hereand now without any planning?

The inception of the Paricutin Project is aninteresting story. TIMEmagazine had heardfrom John Gibson about my desire to take onthis project but as an artist with limitedresources, I was unable to get the projectmoving. TIME offered to fund it providedthey were permitted to publish the photos. I agreed to their terms, as this was thechance of a lifetime.The Paricutin Volcano Project was carefully

planned and researched to find the bestpossible location. The volcano was dormant,but still emitting gasses through fumaroles.This allowed me to get to the edge of thecrater where I laid crumbled bread forroughly 100 yards. The bread was dampenedby the volcanic steam and covered with thinplastic to trap the moisture and heat. Ireturned six days later, removed the plastic,and photographed the bread and mould thathad grown on it. The next day, I rented asmall plane and photographed the installa-tion from the air. There was no sign of theinstallation when I returned one year later.And so perception comes before the concept

or do they occur simultaneously?I think both happen. <

John K. GRANDE is the author of Art Nature Dialogues(SUNY Press, NY, 2004), Dialogues in Diversity: Marginal toMainstream (Pari Publishing, 2007), Homage to Jean-PaulRiopelle (Prospect/Gaspereau Press 2011), Art into Nature(Borim Press, Seoul, South Korea, 2012) and Black Peat(Print Factory, Ireland 2012). John K. Grande has recentlycurated Earth Art 2012 at Van Dusen Botanical Gardens inVancouver, B.C. and Kathy Venter: Life at the GardinerMuseum of Ceramic Art in Toronto (2013).www.johnkgrande.com

Peter HUTCHISON,LIama, 1970. Large-scale (30ft) drawing.Made with lime on black lava dust, Mexico. Photo: courtesy of the artist.