Once upon a time, I packed up my little Corolla with food, suitcases, booze and two good friends. We all had two weeks for spring break and I had a mission. Our destination was Marfa, Texas. I wanted- no, needed- to see a place where art existed outside of big cities and millions of people. I wanted to see art I couldn’t see anywhere else in the world. I needed to see something site specific.
The entire journey was a work of art onto itself, full of deep conversations, personal revelations, and great music. There were plenty of roadside tourist traps and belly laughs the entire trip, but nothing compared to the feeling of finally turning onto route 10 in the middle of the desert in Texas. It took us three days of driving, twelve hours a day, to make it to Marfa. The town was unlike any place I have ever seen in real life, but that is not what this story is supposed to be about.
The Chinati Foundation, formerly Fort D.A. Russel, is home to great work by some of the great names in art. John Chamberlin, Dan Flavin, Carl Andre, Richard Long, and of course Donald Judd. The piece that meant the most to me, and the piece this is all really getting to, is Donald Judd’s Untitled (100 works in unmilled aluminum). It is contained in two former artillery sheds, tall long buildings with curved roofs and plate glass windows. The tour guide led our small group of six to the first door, stood outside and explained how the piece was constructed, transported, and installed, then opened the shed and let us in. It was a life changing experience for me. I didn’t know much about site specific work, or rather had never really thought about it much. But standing in that converted shed in the middle of nowhere in the desert was incredible.
The piece is two separate sheds, one with 48 pieces and the other with 52. The actual sculptures are typical Judd shapes, variations on a box structure. These are made of unmilled aluminum, so they are silver, but not polished and shiny. They came up to about my waist and are evenly spaced in two rows. Walking though the sheds, I tried to take in everything possible about the space, the mood, and the environment. The reason I see 100 works as site specific is the windows. The view was nothing short of amazing. On one side of the sheds is six u-shaped army barracks that were converted to house a piece by Dan Flavin. Out the other side of the sheds is a view of the open desert, interrupted only by another Donald Judd work made up of similar shapes but much larger and made of cement. The contrast of the industrial unfinished metal works, silver colored window frames, poured concrete floors, and humans wandering around against the oranges and reds of the earth and dry yellow grass was nothing short of breathtaking and left me awestruck and speechless.
Judd’s 100 works could not have been as successful as it was for me in any other location. Where stands, it speaks volumes about contrast, technology and nature, and emotions that I cannot possibly put into words. And Judd knew this. He put his work in the middle of nowhere Texas, hours away from other cities, where the view from the windows is unlikely to be altered for a very long time, if ever. Judd wrote, in a catalogue for the Chinati Foundation:
It takes a great deal of time and thought to install work carefully. This should not always be thrown away. Most art is fragile and some should be placed and never moved again. Somewhere a portion of contemporary art has to exist as an example of what the art and its context were meant to be. Somewhere, just as the platinumiridium meter guarantees the tape measure, a strict measure must exist for the art of this time and place.
Judd knew exactly what he was doing with 100 works, and with the works of many of his friends and colleagues.
Of course there are other artists who also explore site specificity. A favorite of mine is Richard Serra, who is interesting to me because he is commissioned to explore a specific area. The idea of changing the physical space his works are placed can be applied to any location imaginable. The style he used and methods employed can be used anywhere, which could make Serra’s work seem very site un-specific. However, each individual work addresses only one space, and cannot be moved or used anywhere else, making it indeed site specific. The thought that the technique can be applied to many places to create a unique and site specific result also applies to the work of Mark Dion, who rearranges preexisting materials to make his own work.
In a different (or maybe not so different at all) vein, the work of Jean-Claude and Christo is focused more on the idea behind the work than the actual individual result. They explore space just like Richard Serra, and modify existing environments like Mark Dion, but their goal is not necessarily a finished piece. After their idea is carried out, the work is taken down. They sell the sketches and materials used to realize the idea instead of the actual end result. This is affected, of course, greatly by the environment their work is placed in. Their works are site specific but temporary. Jean-Claude and Christo are as much about planning as actual execution. Even more than they are site specific artists, they are focused on the process and value it more than the result.
But what exactly is a site? The obvious definition is a physical location; a gallery space, a field, a highway, a middle of nowhere town. But what about culture? A great deal of political art is constantly being produced worldwide, especially in this time of war. I think the culture a work is applied to can also be considered a site. If a work is created about a politician in America, for example, a citizen of a different country may not fully understand it as well as an American citizen would. But this idea is not limited to foreign countries. There are many cultures identifiable within countries as well that do not understand each other. A perfect example of this is the recent cancellation of a show including the work of Cosimo Cavallaro. The piece My Sweet Jesus was an anatomically correct nude portrayal of Jesus Christ made from over 200 pounds of milk chocolate. It was set to open on the day after Palm Sunday, but infuriated Roman Catholics got the show shut down by way of angry emails, phone calls, and threats. This is just another case of hate and censorship resulting from people not caring to be open minded and try and understand each other.
The site of a site specific work of art is very open to interpretation. It can be an actual physical site, an idea in someone’s mind, a culture, or any number of other things. Just like all art, the site is in the eye of the beholder. And if you have to travel over two thousand miles just to see it and for a few hours occupy the same site and become a part of it, then you must judge if it is worth the effort.
