People leave marks. Put a person in a place for a while and they start “marking” it up. Some times in utilitarian ways, like creating a fire and ringing it with rocks. Sometimes aesthetically; a blue tent or flocked wall papers. But where ever people go - even in the most rustic environment - they mark their territory. And those marks become symbols of their existence.
American Indians do an amazing job with this. Rich color and design along with distinctive symbols and images all come together in a clear visual language so that tribe can be distinguished from tribe.
In the Galapagos, that historical marking from humans is missing. So as I think about painting a meaningful series I know I have to look deeper than ever before. Hell, I paint cities. I know the symbols and I know my country. I can find the syncopated rhythm of Philly in the smear of neon and the play of shadows on a canvas. I can tell the difference between San Francisco and Chicago and New Jersey in the markings of the people. Galapagos is different. The visual language emerges slowly for me. I’m guessing it has taken shape over centuries. Where is it? How will I find it?
Darwin’s “13 finches” are part of that language. As a finch adapted to the different foods available on the different islands of the Galapagos, their beaks changed shape. Darwin identified 13 different adaptations. On islands where the food source was primarily insects, beaks elongated so the birds could access bugs in their hiding places. On islands full of nuts and berries, shorter stronger beaks adapted. A bird’s gotta eat. When they did, that gene pools flourished and produced the best physical attributes for survival. It’s a divine and brilliant plan.
“A bird’s gotta eat. When they did, that gene pools flourished and produced the best physical attributes for survival. It’s a divine and brilliant plan.”
As I anticipate emersion into the islands I wonder what visual language will become evident? And I wonder if it will be enough to fuel the paintings?
Painting is not enough, but it’s what I know how to do.
There’s another force at work though and it’s about “Why”. Why paint? I want to paint the Galapagos in a poignant and arresting way. Already, I have a feeling of anxiety around the silent suffering of the animals there, hoping I am good enough to capture it all. The place was so pristine for so long.
Over the last 400 years hundreds of thousands of whales were taken from the waters here. As many of the great tortoises were taken, and stored “alive” in the holds of ships (in a remarkable display of rationalized cruelty) without food and water till it was their turn to be soup. As the population of the islands increased (over 25,000 now) the filth that seems only to come with humans is showing up on the islands. There’s a garbage dump. Seal pups have been slaughtered there by vandals, their bodies left to rot on the beaches. And there is “road kill”. Because the birds have no natural predators they are not afraid of cars and trucks and are routinely run down on the roads of the Galapagos. With the increasing native population non-native animals have been introduced to the islands. Dogs, cats, goats, chickens. Some have gone ferrel and have become predators in the landscape. They have introduced new types of bacteria. Everything has changed in a very short amount of time.
The Ecuadorian government has allocated 97% of the land as a Natural Park - but humans can do horrible things in 3% and it affects the entire island. Tourism has also multiplied. Over 120,000 tourists are expected this year. I am one of the “lucky” ones. And however my visit contributes to the further degradation of the islands, I want to try to give back in part with these paintings. Soon, I hope, Ecuador will stop all tourism so we can protect what’s left of this place. Galapagos is a badge of shame for us. Its proof of how we wreck our world. Its not about animal activism for me. Its about our dignity as human beings. We have to reach to the highest place in ourselves to fix this. Greed and politics have to go on the back burner. If we could do it in this little place, maybe we could do it on a larger scale.
And somewhere in all that, there is a visual language for me.
September 17, 2009, 10:03am Comments
