First was the land, always the land.
Strijdom van der Merwe’s works are intentionally transient — fleeting gestures rather than conventional sculptures. They are created on-site, using only materials found in the vicinity and destined to exist for a fragment of time before yielding to the elements.
In 2014, the Smithsonian Institute in Washington, DC, held an exhibition entitled, ‘Land as Material and Metaphor in the Arts of Africa’. This exhibition addressed the larger topic of the role the landscape plays in all of our lives. We have become a society that has distanced itself from nature and tends to see itself as superior to nature. To quote the British artist Richard Long, ‘The land is the beginning and the end of existence, whether in terms of canvas, clay, or the fabric of the mind; the place you stand where you make your first mark, There is always a starting point that affects the outcome of your undertaking.’ Land art is part of a natural cycle. Most land artists do not seek to impose their identities on nature but rather to integrate into a larger cycle. The landscape influences the artist more than the reverse.
It also responds to pressing questions of our time. ‘I believe that over the last four or five years, this art form has increasingly contributed to people’s appreciation of the landscape, particularly in light of global warming, desertification, melting ice caps, and similar issues,’ Strijdom explains. ‘Land art visually represents what statistics in newspapers and academic lectures strive to convey.
’Sculpting This Earth, directed by Victor van Aswegen, is the first full-length documentary about land art from the southern hemisphere. In the film, Strijdom produces 28 artworks, talking about each one while making it. Currently on tour across Europe, Canada, and the USA, it was previously screened at the Labia in Cape Town, The Bioscope in Johannesburg, and other venues across the country. We spoke to Strijdom to understand more about this transitory form of art, and the journey that led him to create with nature.
As an artist, what is it like going through the process of creating knowing that the artwork has an end, that it’s not permanent the way traditional art is?
Working in nature you are constantly aware of its cycles: sunrise, sunset, shadows, bright sunlight or an overcast day, tides of the sea, wind, or calmness. When producing an artwork, you must take these into account, realising that these natural processes will have the ultimate influence on the artwork. With this in mind, you rather take part in the process. This means that you are not creating work for the permanent market, you are creating work that has everlasting influence; you discover the exact moment in nature that will never be the same again. It is a marriage between nature and you at that moment.
Land art has a role in urban environments, as not all land art is temporary. Depending on the message the artwork aims to communicate or the preferences of a client, it can also be permanent.
How did you find yourself in landscape art?
I grew up on a farm where I spent many hours walking in the forest and landscape, discovering nature on my own. After a while you start turning rocks upside down, bending leaves, making knots in the long grass, realising that earth has different textures… It was only after studying art at university that I realised all those essential elements of colour, perspective, texture, line, weight, you name it, exist in nature. I was introduced to another land artist’s work and realised that it’s not so far-fetched to produce work in nature. In Europe, USA, and especially the East, this art movement is very prominent, and it gave me good reason to take the giant step to work full time as a land artist. Most of my invitations and commissions are from abroad.
Which materials have been particularly rewarding to work with?
I strive to start each day without any preconceived ideas. I clear my mind of all the worldly belongings, influences, and so on. I take a walk in nature and open my mind to the surrounding areas; the material that I find on such a walk will determine what I do. Once such a site reveals itself to me, I will sit and meditate, study, take in the reason for that site, observe all the influences, and how the day will change. As the afternoon or evening approaches, only then will I start working on a project. The Karoo and its materials have always been very rewarding to me. The challenges are so much more intense, working in such a minimal landscape you only have to move one rock out of position and the whole landscape changes; the challenge is where do you move it to or do you move it all.
How do you sense what the final artwork will look like as you navigate the work from the human scale to the bird’s eye view?
These days with Google Maps it’s easy to plot out the dimensions of how the work will fit into a specific landscape. First you visit the site, understand the site, and then you work on a concept influenced by your perception of the site and the natural processes that influence that landscape. Then the concept develops, and you put it down on Google and present it to the client. Before making large scale works you have to take weather patterns, planting seasons, harvest time, visibility, and so on, into consideration.
How has nature responded to your work?
The beauty of these works is that nature has its own way of dismantling or taking over the work. In many cases the incoming tide can wash away half of the work or flood it in such a way that you could never imagine, making it even better. Or, large elephant ear leaves can milt down because of the heat of the afternoon, changing your creation into something that you had never foreseen. In being sensitive towards nature and its processes, you always aim to make something where nature has a greater impact on you than you on nature. By respecting and following its disciplines you gain a deeper understanding of its existence.
“You discover the exact moment in nature that will never be the same again.”
