In the 1980s, When Kevin Dahl first began visiting the Organ Pipe Cactus national monument in southern Arizona, the border was unmarked, save for a simple fence used to keep cattle from a ranch in the US from crossing into Mexico. In those days, park rangers would call in their lunch orders at a diner located just across the border.

Since then, a 30ft steel bollard wall has replaced the old barbed wire fence at Organ Pipe. The towering steel barrier cuts through the Unesco reserve like a rust-colored suture.

Its this incredible scar, said Kevin Dahl, a senior program manager at the National Parks Conservation Association, describing the wall that snakes its way through a pristine track of Sonoran desert, dwarfing the giant cacti that give this desert its name. What was once a connected landscape is now a dissected one.

That dissection is now a reality across much of the US border. It is a landscape increasingly defined by walls, roads, fences and associated border infrastructure that is fragmenting critically protected habitats, desecrating sacred cultural sites and threatening numerous endangered species in some of the most biodiverse and unique places in North America.

Border construction has had a huge impact on some of the most remote and biodiverse landscapes on the continent, said Dan Millis, a campaigner at the Sierra Club. The Trump administration is taking it even further.

Four days before the US election, this is how the new border wall has affected four distinct wilderness areas.

Donald Trump entered the Oval Office with a campaign promise to build 450 miles of a new border wall system a combination of infrastructure including bollard barriers, roads, perimeter lighting, enforcement cameras and other technology even amid the pandemic, has continued at an increasing pace. According to Customs and Border Protection, 400 miles of the border wall system has been completed so far, with physical barriers from 18-30ft tall. If he wins, he may well aspire to wall off the border in its entirety.

Construction is occurring mostly on public, often protected lands, because the Department of Homeland Security has sweeping powers to waive environmental protection laws, like the Endangered Species Act, which would otherwise bar construction.

Protected lands belong to the government because they are so unique and fragile. Because of that same fact, they are being demolished, said Laiken Jordahl, borderlands campaigner for the Center for Biological Diversity, noting the relative ease of border wall construction on public lands compared with the lengthy process of taking private property.

The eastern terminus is the Lower Rio Grande Valley wildlife refuge in south-eastern Texas 100,000 acres of lush protected lands that US Fish and Wildlife have spent four decades restoring. The 135 individual tracts of land, described as a string of pearls connecting various habitats, extend along the 275 miles of the Rio Grande River before entering the Gulf of Mexico. It is one of the most biodiverse places in the country, supporting 700 species of terrestrial animals such as the jaguarundi, a wild cat, as well as myriad plants and a vibrant ecotourism industry.

The landscape is now being bisected by a 15ft concrete base surmounted by 18ft steel bollards.

Its going to make it that much harder to preserve the very little that is left of the ecosystem, said Norma Herrera of the Rio Grande Equal Voice Network

This is some of the best birding in the world, said Elise Wort, a tourist who traveled from her California home to see some of the 500-plus bird species that reside in the valley. The border is an environmental and human disaster.

Much of the construction in the south-western border states is occurring in remote and mountainous terrain. Critics say it makes little sense to construct a physical barrier in these areas because most are lightly trafficked corridors for unauthorized migration, and they are also crucial habitat for animals. Ninety-three endangered and threatened animal species are found in the borderlands.

One such area is the Madrean Sky Islands, rugged linked mountain ranges in New Mexico and Arizona that boast the highest biodiversity in inland North America.

Its like going from the climate on the Mexican border to Canada, said Emily Burns, program director of the Sky Island Alliance, with ecosystems ranging from subtropical lowlands and deserts to temperate mountaintops.

The 30ft steel wall and stadium lighting are adversely affecting the ocelot, javelina, Mexican grey wolf and the North American jaguar, the latter of which has made a surprising comeback in the US since being hunted to extinction in the late 1980s, according to Burnss organization.

We dont expect there will be any hope for the jaguars recovery in the US if [the border is] completed, said Burns, because it will cut off the main Jaguar population in Mexico from that in the US.

Further east in Arizona, new sections of steel bollard wall are being built in the largest area of protected Sonoran landscape. At the San Bernardino national wildlife refuge, groundwater pumping to mix concrete for the wall is draining a crucial wetland and imperiling four threatened or endangered species for which San Bernardino was created to protect. Government documents obtained by environmental groups revealed that the US Fish and Wildlife Service repeatedly warned the Department of Homeland Security about the imminent threat to these species. Their warning went unheeded.

I started my career as a biologist at the Refuge, and 20 years later, I came full circle to witness its destruction, said Myles Trapenhagan, borderlands program coordinator for the Wildlands Network, an environmental group.

Construction during the Trump administration has severely affected tribal lands along the border, leading to a growing protest movement in response to desecration of sacred sites and barred access to ancestral lands.

Our tribal sovereignty is not being upheld, said Jacelle Ramon-Sauberan, a doctoral candidate of Indian studies at the University of Arizona and a member of the Tohono Oodham Nation, who lands have been split by the wall, stifling cross-border cultural and religious events between Oodham members in Mexico and the US. I dont think it ever has been when it comes to the border wall or the border in general.

At Organ Pipe Cactus national monument in Arizona, part of the ancestral lands of the Tohono Oodham nation, a particular flashpoint has been the impact of the border wall on the sacred Quitobaquito springs. A recent analysis by data scientists at the investigative journalism website Bellingcat found that water levels at Quitobaquito springs are declining at unprecedented rates, with border wall construction a likely culprit because crews have tapped the underlying aquifer for water to make concrete.

On 12 October Indigenous Peoples Day Oodham members and their allies blockaded the highway passing through Organ Pipe. Border officers responded with force, including teargas, arresting eight in the process.

Earlier this year, construction crews used dynamite to blow up Monument hill in Organ Pipe to make way for the wall, disturbing Oodham burial grounds and uprooting numerous Organ Pipe and Saguaro Cactus scattered along the service roads, which evoked felled green monoliths.

A recent decision by a federal appeals court has provided at least one win for border wall critics, and a blow to Trumps ambitions to complete the 450 miles of the wall by years end.

The ninth circuit court of appeals ruled that the presidents use of emergency powers to allocate military funds for border wall construction was illegal. Even so, construction will continue on projects where military money was not used including the four described here.

This wall has done nothing more than divide our communities, disrespect our values, and inflict enormous environmental harm, said the Arizona congressman Ral Grijalva, whose district includes Organ Pipe. Its time for wall construction to end once and for all.

Read the original post:
'An incredible scar': the harsh toll of Trump's 400-mile wall through national parks - The Guardian

To celebrate Wightman Parks reopening, Councilperson Erika Strassburger slid down the brand-new slide built into the hillside embankment right into the park.

Councilperson Erika Strassburger going down the slide at Wightman Park. Photo courtesy of the City of Pittsburgh.

After four years of work, Wightman Park in Squirrel Hill has reopened to the public at 5612 Solway Street. What was once an under-utilized two-acre ball field with deteriorated playground equipment now features an inclusive new playground and a host of new amenities.

The project also attempts to solve stormwater drainage problems that have plagued nearby neighborhoods.

This park should be a model for all the parks in Pittsburgh, said Strassburger at a ribbon-cutting ceremony on Wednesday afternoon. And while this park can and will welcome everyone regardless of age, ability, interest and neighborhood, I truly believe that every neighborhood deserves a park this wonderful.

The park prioritizes inclusion for children of different abilities along with a focus on sustainability, recreation and beautiful design, she adds.

There are distinct play areas, one for toddlers ages 2 to 5 and another for children ages 5 to 12, with an array of slides, tunnels, netting and other climbing equipment.

Theres also a new covered wooden picnic pavilion open to the community along with a walking track and a half-court basketball hoop.

In addition, the park also features a large green space, suitable for everything from frisbee to soccer, baseball and softball. New family restroom facilities are included with an adult changing table, the first in a public space in Pittsburgh.

The inclusion of an adult changing table was an important request from the community, says Senior Project Landscape Architect Andrea Ketzel with the City of Pittsburgh Department of Public Works. We heard from parents and caretakers of children with differing physical abilities. They communicated the struggles that they face in a public setting when caring for their children who have outgrown a standard baby changing table. The table will allow parents and caretakers to provide for their grown children or adult family members in a safe, sanitary and private location.

Wightman Park playground. Photo courtesy of the City of Pittsburgh.

Artists Oreen Cohen and Alison Zapata of OOA Designs created metal sculptures, inlaid with colorful panes of glass that merge the forms of falling water and pollinating insects, that are child-safe and act as benches.

OOA Designs worked with the children of the nearby Carriage House to create drawings of butterflies, bugs and natural elements for inspiration in the sculptures, says Ketzel.

The park doubles as a massive stormwater retention project, featuring green infrastructure such as rain gardens and plantings along with retention tanks beneath the park and additional stormwater storage capacity under the sidewalks. The city estimates that this will capture two million gallons of stormwater every year, and provide 50,000 cubic feet of storage.

This site is very unique in that it sits at a low point in the topography, says Ketzel. When you visit the park, you might notice that the site is bowl-shaped and the perfect place to hold water. Many years ago, it held water permanently and was used as a skating rink in the wintertime. Early in the public engagement process, we received complaints from neighbors about their basements flooding and engaged with PWSA (Pittsburgh Water and Sewer Authority) to collaborate on a park renovation that also included stormwater management.

The next phase of the stormwater project will involve improving drainage along local streets and directing stormwater towards the park. This will keep it out of peoples basements, and sewer overflows into the Monongahela River. The improvements will feature stormwater bump out planters at intersections, and channel drains that convey stormwater under the street between planters.

The Wightman Park project was a joint effort between the City of Pittsburgh ($3 million) and the PWSA ($2 million). The funding came from their capital budgets, as well as state, federal and local grants, says Ketzel.

squirrel hillWightman Park

See more here:
Renovated Wightman Park in Squirrel Hill reopens as 'a model for all the parks in Pittsburgh' - NEXTpittsburgh

The three storefronts from 112114 S. Madison St.comprise what is historically known as the Hill Block (Images of the Past, Feb. 1, 2017), and the buildingshave been part of Bloomfields business history for more than150 years. The question now facing community leaders is how long two of the three business fronts will remain part of the citys economic landscape.

About three years after the close of the Civil War, the Hill Block was constructed as a unified structure that was divided into three storefronts.The block isseen above in a vignette from the 1869 Bloomfield birds-eye lithograph by August Koch.

During the century and a halfit has occupied a prominent location in Bloomfield commerce, the building has weathered the transition from horse-and-buggy to the Model T, and then to todays cars and trucks. The transition has gone beyond just the mode of transportation. The changes include moving from wooden walks and dirt streets to concrete sidewalks and paved streets. Over the decades, there have been changes in buildings themselves. The imposing facade was minimized when the raised central parapet was removed, probably at the end of the 19th century. The individual store facades werepainted to look unique,and 112 S. MadisonSt.,lostits arched windows and arcaded ground floor entry.

Various businesses occupied 112 S. Madison from dry goods, hardware and drug stores. Many people will remember it as the West Side Grill and News Stand. The store at 113 S. Madison had been a grocery store since at least 1883. Tudo and Hazel Nardini operated Nardinis Model Market at this addressandlived above the store. Hazel was later mayor of Bloomfield. The connection to people connected to the citys administration does not stop with Hazel. Councilman Jake Bohis great-grandfather, Mark Henson, had his grocery store at this address,too, in the 1930s.

Two other buildings in the vignette are still standing today:108 S. Madison, the 3-story building, lost its top floor in a 1917 fire thatresulted in the facade being remodeled, and itnow houses Making Memories. The building at far right, 107 S. Madison, is the home of CJs Family Restaurant.

Rudy Evans | revans1953@gmail.com

Go here to see the original:
Images of the Past: Hill Block, 1869 | Columnists | bdemo.com - bdemo.com

Come autumn, as a way of defying the back-to-school doldrums brought on by a rapid shortening of the days, and to mark what feels like the true start of a year, I go on a pilgrimage. This year, more than ever, I crave the slow and steady rhythm of a walking pace, big skies, and cleansing wind and rain to shake off the cobwebs of a long confinement and to break the domestic routines of daily life. I want to connect to my own pumping heart and the natural world around me, re-oxygenate stale lungs and feel the muscles in my legs stretch and work.

Since Im looking for uplift, there is nowhere for me thats more rejuvenating and exhilarating than the uplands of Golden Cap in Dorset, the highest point on the south coast of England. In the rinsed light of early autumn, it glows, as if just-hatched, new-born. I have earmarked the little church of St Candida and the Holy Cross, behind these soaring coastal cliffs, tucked into the valleys of Marshwood Vale, a landscape that folds gently in on itself like ribbons of thickened cream. It is part of a medieval pilgrimage trail that connected Bridport to Axminster, containing one of only two shrines with relics of a saint still existing in England (the other being Edward the Confessors shrine at Westminster Abbey), somehow miraculously surviving the Reformation and the civil war. St Wite, martyred by marauding Viking hordes, attracts the hopeless and hopeful sick who journey to her quaint limestone shrine.

Pilgrimage as a cure, pilgrimage for healing: the concept is as old as these hills that were crisscrossed with wayfarer and pilgrimage trails almost since the beginning of our civilisation. But the past 50 years, in particular, have seen a global revival of interest in the idea of pilgrimage; the eternal search for spiritual and physical succour dovetailing with todays urgent calling for holistic meaning. It satisfies our hankering for slow over instant gratification, and offers an alternative, drug-free route to emotional and physical wellbeing. No surprise then that numbers increase year on year at the famous Camino de Santiago de Compostela trail, almost 350,000 recorded pilgrims last year, while more than 2m went on the Hajj in 2019.

In early March, with the world spinning on its axis, I was instinctively drawn to the pagan, mysterious, breast-like form of Silbury Hill in Wiltshire, off the Ridgeway, the oldest pilgrimage route in England. The perfect curve of the mound rose high above the flooded plains and I scaled it, in the horizontal rain, wading through treacle mud, reflecting that endurance is part of life, as it is part of any pilgrimage. Making a days circuit of the Neolithic standing stones and pagan burial sanctuaries seemed a very symbolic and purposeful way of processing the seismic changes that were unfolding. It was as if the very unknowability of Silbury helped me to find mental clarity, providing guidance as the tumultuous turn of world events shifted my own sense of self.

Sometimes when people look for a new inner direction in their lives the most sensible and simple approach is to be found in an outer direction, says Dr Guy Hayward, of the British Pilgrimage Trust. With pilgrimage you literally walk a physical path, have a clear goal your destination and have a means of reaching it: walking. The simplicity of this tangible endeavour may be the secret that many need to know in order to find that inner-direction that so many of us seek.

A walk in nature calms the psyche and eases depression

With no more than a pair of sturdy boots and a sense of purpose, on a simple physical and psychological level, the very act of walking, the rhythm of putting one foot in front of the other, of matching your breathing to your pace, in the fresh air, is soothing.

A 2015 study by the American National Academy of Science summarised that a 90-minute walk in nature calms the psyche, eases depression and feeds creative juices. Walking has been further proven to reduce blood pressure, lower blood sugar levels and improves concentration and energy. Unlike hiking, which is purely a physical challenge, the activity of a ritual walk, the thinking footfall as writer Robert Macfarlane describes it, encourages you to savour the moment and the resonance of each place. Its finding pleasure and purpose in the act of slow.

So, after the easing of lockdown, I celebrated with a British Pilgrimage Trust route, via app, that guided me from the city of Wells, to the iconic pilgrimage landmark of Glastonbury Tor. I was drawn by their description of ley lines, Green Men, leaping water, fire-breathing dragons and angels in high places. I followed their counsel to pause, breathe and interact with the landscape; throwing stones into the holy wells, offering blessings at the foot of sacred trees, leaning into the branches and feeling the bark beneath my hands. My venture here felt like something quite separate from a ramble on a hill in my own backyard; a symbolic gesture of something meaningful and profound.

We came home sore of foot, butwith lighter hearts

I recognise that my private pilgrimages, which bookended lockdown, were very personal and solitary quests for direction and a sense of wholeness and wellbeing in a fractured world. Yet it should not be forgotten that social interaction can be the most memorable source of influence in a pilgrimage. As a way of taking the pulse of place and its people, pilgrimage is a great way to travel. Traditionally, it has always been a true social leveller, as Chaucer has so vividly described.

On my various holy trails around the globe, the inevitable spontaneous mixing with strangers has been a singular takeaway. I have met down-and-outs and dreamers, strivers and shysters, hippies and Alpha achievers, and even a future lover, all as varied and as interesting as the swindling millers, virtuous martyrs and libidinous wives in the Canterbury Tales. Climbing Adams Peak in Sri Lanka on New Year, and watching tantric ritual dances and seeking the head lamas blessing at the Mani Rimdu festival in Nepal with its medieval atmosphere of beer, bribery and bride-bartering, the communality, and festival vibe is joyfully infectious, the social interaction uplifting.

A few years ago, I was wrung-out emotionally in the wake of my mothers death and at a kind of crossroads in my life. Not knowing which way to take my career, unable to make any sane decision about the most trivial things, even what colour to paint the bedroom, I decided to join an organised pilgrimage in Shikoku, one of the less visited islands of Japan. The mythological landscape is part of a route made sacred by Kb-Daishi, founder of Shingon Buddhism in the 8th century. I hoped it would help me, not only get under the skin of this indomitable landscape and Japans rich, storied past, but also to find the something that was missing, the key that would reconnect me to myself. After all, extending ones horizons is a fundamental human instinct, a fact that made lockdown so challenging.

I invited my sister and we piggybacked on to a jolly coachload of white robed henro, or pilgrims, for a few days, following the same slippery forest paths to our destination-shrines. We entered into the convivial spirit of their rituals: purifying at the water troughs, throwing a coin into a tray, lighting incense, ringing the giant bell, hitting the gong, chanting the Heart Sutra. Each step had its own resonance, like notes on a score sheet. They rose and fell.

Over tricky, stony, maple leaf-strewn paths, trodden down comfortingly over centuries by so many pilgrims before, the act of walking and talking out our grievances and problems among our uncomprehending fellow pilgrims, without having to maintain constant eye contact, was conducive. My sister and I successfully aired our hopes and fears, argued and cried, and came home, sore of foot, but with lighter hearts and soaring spirts.

We display the mementos of the journey conical hats and staff, journals full of shrine stamps with humour, but never underestimating that these are material symbols of the transformative power and healing trajectory of pilgrimage.

Contact British Pilgrimage Trust for organised pilgrimages in the UK (britishpilgrimage.org). Britains Pilgrimage Places by Nick Mayhew Smith and Guy Hayward is published by Lifestyle Press at 19.99

Go here to read the rest:
In troubled times, a ritual walk can clear the mind and soothe the soul - The Guardian

Billed as the most important David Hockney landscape to ever appear at auction, the British artists Nichols Canyon went on view in London on Thursday ahead of its sale.

The 1980 landscape is the star lot of Phillips 20th Century & Contemporary Art Evening Sale in New York on December 7 and is estimated to sell for $35 million.

Nichols Canyon is considered Hockneys first mature landscape. It marked the artists return to California and to painting following a hiatus in the 1970s during which he focused on photography.

The paintings counterpart Mulholland Drive: The Road to the Studio, is held in the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

It is a very rare and pretty unique painting in his career, according to Phillips Global Chairwoman Cheyenne Westphal.

The canyon was very much part of his daily life. He was living up the hill and driving down the hill to his studio and this journey every day, several times, became part of his self, as he says.

He started it with a wonderful squiggly line and then created this extraordinary California landscape around it with the swimming pool, the houses, just the lusciousness of it all.

The painting has been held in a private U.S. collection since 1982.

In 2018, 83-year-old Hockneys Portrait of an Artist (Pool with Two Figures) from 1972 sold for $90.3 million at Christies in New York, smashing the record for the highest price ever paid at auction for a work by a living artist.

(This story has been published from a wire agency feed without modifications to the text.)

Follow more stories on Facebook and Twitter

Here is the original post:
Hockney masterpiece goes on view ahead of auction - Hindustan Times

Reading Time: 4 minutesThe rugged land of Broken Hill, NSW. Photo: pxfuel.com

I dont think that I am alone in feeling a strong urge to travel after working from home for many months. Perhaps we always want what we cant have.

Whilst some State borders are now opening up, my wife and I really recently succumbed to the urge to travel by driving out to Broken Hill which is about as far as it is possible to travel without leaving New South Wales.

What I found over the ten days of that journey was not just an extraordinary variety and diversity of climatic conditions and landscapes but a demonstration of the resilience and fortitude of Australians and the magnificence of Gods creation.

It brought to mind these words from Psalm 65:7-8,11-13(NJB):

The nations are in uproar, in panic those who live at the ends of the earth;Your miracles bring shouts of joy to the gateways of morning and evening.You crown the year with your generosity, richness seeps from your tracks,The pastures of the desert grow moist, the hillsides are wrapped in joy.The meadows are covered with flocks, the valleys clothed with wheat,They shout and sing for joy.

There would be few states on earth with the range of weather and atmosphere of New South Wales.

Crossing the mountains for our first stay in Millthorpe near Orange we were confronted by a snow fall interspersed with a rain which seemed to fall horizontally.

Our time in those beautiful vineyards began with mornings just above freezing. From there we travelled hundreds of kilometres to the old copper mining town of Cobar.

The landscape on that journey moved from the fertile to the red earth of the Outback.

Cobar is a town built by a mining site.

Although currently inaccessible, the remains of the original mines and what would once have been molten slag now spread across the earth like a Martian landscape is quite extraordinary.

Travelling from Cobar to Broken Hill is a mere 500 kilometres or so.

The Outback was surprisingly colourful with vast fields of purple, white and yellow desert flowers.

There is also something quintessentially modern Australian about an isolated truck stop in the Outback serving an excellent long black.

Any Australian who has travelled by road will be familiar with the sad sight of wallabies and kangaroos hit by vehicles ,but as you move into the Outback these are interspersed with dingoes.

Broken Hill is well worth the travel time and not just for the experience of the journey itself.

The fact that Broken Hill the Silver City is a mining town is evident as you arrive.

The town is built next to a massive mound of a mining site.

Although quite small there is much to do and much to surprise.

The extraordinary quality, size and variety of the minerals which have been extracted here is well presented in the Albert Kersten Mining and Minerals Museum.

The human cost of extracting these resources is powerfully evidenced by the Line of Lode Lookout and Miners Memorial which can be seen from most parts of the city.

This memorial contains the names of more than a century of lives lost and a stark and simple recording of the facts of each of those tragedies.

Perhaps it is the unique richness of the landscape where red earth contrast with richly coloured desert flowers and wild emus and goats can be seen along the roadside but the area around Broken Hill has also long been a centre of artistic endeavour.

The most famous exponents were the Brushmen of the Bush: Pro Hart, Eric Minchin, Jack Absalom, John Pickup and Hugh Schulz.

There are some good examples of their work in the Broken Hill Regional Art Gallery and larger collections of works by Hart and Absalom in their galleries.

Fortunately, the Pro Hart Gallery has sufficient works to challenge any view of his work as one dimensional.

His displayed works cover existentialism, duplicity, politics, religion and anonymity.

If only the gallery had more space.

A sculpture park of his works is opposite the gallery.

In this brief journey I experienced the wonder and power of God through His creation experiencing the age of the earth, change and rejuvenation.

There is no need to panic but a trip to Broken Hill will reward you.

View original post here:
Michael Quinlan: Glory be to God for arid landscapes - The Catholic Weekly

Kelly Akashi, A Device to See the World Twice. Photo courtesy of The Clark.

Currently situated or hidden throughout the landscape of the Clarks 140 acres of forest and field are the works of half a dozen female artists. One could see this outdoor exhibition, guest curated by Molly Epstein and Abigail Ross Goodman, as particularly apt for this moment, although Ground/work was not intended as a response to the pandemic. Meant to open in late spring, the showcase was in fact pushed back repeatedly by virus related difficulties until finally opening in the first week of October.

I put the word opening in quotes only because many of these works have actually been installed for quite some time now, with the recent arrival of Hague Yangs Migratory DMZ Birds on Asymmetric Lens completing the showcase. Yet, at the same time, each of these installations seems to create an intimate experience with its specific location, whether that be in the woods or flush against a wall. With this in mind, each piece operates on its own in a way, independent of any other piece or even an opening date. The affect of these six works, amplified by their specifically selected locales, is a welcome addition to the Clarks continuing contemporary endeavors.

Each of these six artists Kelly Akashi, Nairy Baghramian, Jennie C. Jones, Eva LeWitt, Analia Saban, and Haegue Yang began their work with a visit to the museum to select a site for their piece. With the knowledge that the exhibition would run for the next year, each artist was also faced with the question of how to incorporate the transience of the landscape. How these pieces will interact with the winter, spring and summer months, we have yet to see; the current autumn foliage, however, will be a tough act to follow.

Jennie C. Jones These (Mournful) Shores is the closest piece to the Clark Center itself, although it could easily be missed by a passerby. The work attaches to the outer edge of the granite wall that borders the reflecting pool, appearing as almost a natural extension of the wall itself. A minimalist interpretation of an Aeolian Harp, also known as the wind harp, Jones piece is activated by wind and inspired by the turbulent weather depicted in Homers iconic Eastern Point and West Point, Prouts Neck. The harps cherry wood innards also reference the trans-Atlantic trade which not only delivered such commodities but the thousands of enslaved people who produced them. Both sonically and aesthetically haunting, These (Mournful) Shores is a powerful first foray into outdoor art for Jones.

Leaving the reflecting pool to journey up stone hill, the next piece one encounters also seems to be hidden in plain sight. Analia Sabans Teaching a Cow How to Draw is perhaps the most functional of all the Ground/work pieces, in that it serves an explicit function:fencing in the resident cow herd in the pasture. The title of the work refers to the design of each fence frame, alluding to classical perspectival drawing instructions. Framing the surrounding landscape as the canvas, Sabans work seems to posit the cows as the artists, in stark contrast with the Old Masters in the permanent collection below. In drawing this parallel, Teaching a Cow How to Draw creates a moment of absurdity which feels appropriate.

Next on the horizon is Eva Lewitts Resin Towers A, B, and C, three multicolored columns standing 11 feet tall. Assembled from hand-cut pieces of colorful plastic suspended in layers of transparent resin, further inspection of each tower reveals a sphere motif, contracting and unfurling with extended viewing. The work establishes an interesting binary: whereas the transparency of the resin allows for the towers to merge with and absorb the surrounding landscape, the kitsch of the fluorescent colors seems to diverge from this integration. The bright palette of these towers, the Clark website states, acts as a beacon, calling down the hill and beckoning visitors to their site.

Beyond this beacon sits Nairy Baghramians Knee & Elbow, two roughly chiseled marble sculptures resting in the grass which have drawn visitors of the human and bovine sort [insert pic of cows in sculpture]. Trying to transfer the figurative act into abstraction, Baghramian created these two hand-hewn forms, one pink and one white, riddled with pockmarks; the texture of their exterior stands in sharp contrast to their sleek, polished interior, and the steel couplers bones, perhaps? which attach them. Playing off of the classicizing traditions of marble and constructions of whiteness, Baghramians work hovers just beyond abstraction in its allusion to joints and pivot points and in revealing the fragile nature of marble, Knee & Elbow is able to confront essential questions of self-optimization and the potential for collapse.

Hidden in a thicket of trees is Kelly Akashis A Device to See the World Twice. A massive distorting lens a magnifying glass of sorts, supported by bronze cast branches Akashi had positioned this work to focus on an ancient elm tree. Funnily enough, the tree cracked and fell over in the spring, a strange premonition of the destruction this year would bring. Rather than training the lens on a different subject, however, Akashi left it as is, now centered on a fragmented memory of what once was. Tucked away in a blanket of green, Akashis installation asks questions regarding viewership, distortion, and the transience of time. In highlighting the ruins of a subject rather than its ideal, Akashi sublimates and highlights the (inevitable) decay of art.

The last piece to arrive and perhaps the most difficult to locate is Hague Yangs three-part installation, Migratory DMZ Birds on Asymmetric Lens, which introduces an avian diaspora of sorts to the Berkshires. Yang was inspired by the April 2018 meeting of North and South Korean leaders in the Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), a lush and biodiverse area 160 miles long by 2.5 miles wide located between the two countries. At one point during this pivotal meeting, the leaders requested to speak in private, leaving only the birds as witness to their conversations. These three pieces employ 3-D printed resin birds set atop robotically milled stone pedestals, egg-like in nature. Considering notions of presence and absence, these synthetic birds both occupy space and vanish, creating an unusual dialogue with their living counterparts in the Berkshires.

In the month that it has officially been open, Ground/work has already been the stage for dynamic artistic interventions. Sunday, Oct. 18 saw Professor Amy Podmores Poetry with Objects course (which I am a part of) collaborate with Brad Wells Sound Art, Public Music class to create wearable, sculptural, distancing apparatuses accompanied by sound components that were used to safely and communally walk and view the Ground/work installation [insert photo from this]. And just as these pieces have been the stage for intimate encounters with the public, these works are sure to continue interacting unexpectedly with their environments as well for the next year that they are on display. A balm for these troubled times, Ground/work shines as the Clarks first outdoor exhibition taking on new levels of meaning from our current moment while simultaneously providing a reflective space to process it.

Read the original:
The Clark breaks new ground with first outdoor sculpture show - The Williams record

The Electromotive Surgical Tables Market Report begins with an overview of the industrial chain structure and provides an overview of the industrial environment, analysis of market size, by-products, regions, application forecasts, and market competition with vendors and companies. Introduction to the situation This report describes the profile, as well as the analysis of market prices and the characteristics of the value chain.

This report provides informed decisions, opportunity understanding, effective business strategy planning, new project planning, peer and constraint analysis, and industry forecast projection. Electromotive Surgical Tables Market Report Includes Breakdown of Top Players, Dealer Strategies, Dealer Analysis, Marketing Channels, Potential Buyers, and Market Development.

Apply FREE Sample Report (Get Full Insights in PDF) with Tables, Charts, and Graphs:https://www.worldwidemarketreports.com/sample/361988

This study provides a detailed analysis of the market in terms of regulatory framework and development trends, historical data, market size, and future prospects. The report provides a detailed analysis of market segments and sub-segments investigating market trends and demand in key regions of the global Electromotive Surgical Tables market. Joint ventures also refer to various elements such as mergers, partnerships, and product launches.

Global Electromotive Surgical Tables Market Segmentation as Follows:

By Top Industry Players:Getinge, Hill-Rom, Skytron, Steris, Stryker, Mizuho, Alvo, Ufsk-Osys, Medifa-hesse, BiHealthcare, AGA Sanitatsartikel, Lojer, Schmitz u. Sohne, Schaerer Medical, Brumaba, Bender, Merivaara, Infinium Medical, Image Diagnostics, Mindray Medical, Shanghai Pax Medical Instrument

By Type:General Surgery Tables, Imaging Tables, Neurology Tables, Orthopedic Tables, Otheer

By Application:Hospital, Emergency Center, Clinic, Educational Institution, Others

This research report provides an analysis of the competitive landscape of the global Electromotive Surgical Tables market. This includes evaluating current and future trends that players can invest in. It also includes an assessment of the players financial prospects and describes the nature of the competition.

The report now describes the changes in market dynamics and demand patterns associated with COVID-19 infection. This report provides a detailed overview of business areas, growth prospects, and future prospects based on the impact of COVID-19 on the growth of the entire industry. The report also provides an analysis of the current and future market impact of Pandemic and a forecast of COVID-19 anomalies.

Get the Free Analysis with this Report (Covers Updated Covid-19 Impact Analysis on Electromotive Surgical Tables Industry):https://www.worldwidemarketreports.com/covidimpact/361988

The main questions answered in the report are:

The research report describes the potential development opportunities that exist in the global market. The reports are classified by research methods based on historical information and forecasts. The global market for Electromotive Surgical Tables is generous and dependent on the size and assets of the incentive measurement period. This report provides an understanding of the evolution of openness and control in market making. The search can generate significant awareness of the final destination of the market.

Production Analysis- Production is analyzed for different regions, types and uses. It also provides price analysis to various market participants.

Sales and Revenue Analysis- Examine both sales and revenue in different regions of the global market. Another important aspect that plays an important role in earnings and prices is also evaluated in different regions of this section.

Supply and consumption- This section analyzes the supply and consumption of the market that continues to sell. This part also shows the gap between supply and consumption. Import and export numbers are also listed here.

Other Analytics- Provides market information, sales analysis, and contact information for top manufacturers, suppliers, and top consumers. This includes SWOT analysis of new projects and suitability analysis of new investments.

This data stream also includes sales prices for different types, applications, and regions. An important regional market is offered. It also includes consumption by type and by applicable star.

Do you have any questions? Contact our industry expert:https://www.worldwidemarketreports.com/quiry/361988

Contact Us:

Mr. ShahWorldwide Market ReportsSeattle, WA 98154,U.S.Email:sales@worldwidemarketreports.com

See the article here:
COVID 19 Research Report on Electromotive Surgical Tables Industry Growth With Top Key Vendors: Getinge, Hill-Rom, Skytron, Steris, Stryker -...

Natural high: escape to the Clark Art Institutes first-ever outdoor exhibition

Titled Ground/work, the Institutes first outdoor exhibition seessculptures by Nairy Bagrahmian, Eva LeWitt and Kelly Akashi set against thebucolic landscape of the Berkshires in Massachusetts

With indoor activities largely restricted in the United States, what better way to make the most of sprawling grounds than to stage an exhibition of outdoor art? For the Clark Art Institute, located amidst the bucolic landscape of the Berkshires in Massachusetts, the timing coincided with a larger ambition to extend the museums presence beyond its physical walls. Its inaugural outdoor show entitled Ground/work is guest curated by Molly Epstein and Abigail Ross Goodman, and sees a collection of newly commissioned, site-responsive works from six leading contemporary artists situated around the institutes 140-acre site.

While many may know the Clarks memorable setting for its iconic Tadao Ando-designed building and courtyard garden, the fact that its surrounding woodland trails, rolling hills and open meadows are publically accessible is a bit of a local secret. Now forming the backdrop for its first official exhibition, the institutes incredible grounds offer newfound space to expand its curatorial vision.

Eva LeWitt,Resin Towers A, B, and C, 2020.Courtesy of the artist andVI, VII, Oslo

The Clark has a unique and varied natural setting woodland trails, open meadows, expansive vistas, cloistered areas for contemplation that is open to the public day and night throughout the seasons without fee or mitigation: a highly rare offering to accompany a renowned permanent collection and research institution, share curators Epstein and Goodman. Olivier Meslay, director of the Clark, approached us in 2017 about his vision for the first-ever outdoor exhibition to take place at the Institute, which was motivated by a desire to further activate and engage the 140-acre campus which surrounds the museum buildings. With the landscape as our prompt, we spent time researching, travelling and visiting artists in their studios. We then invited this group of six makers to visit the Clark, so that each could identify a site, and consider the possibilities for a new site-responsive commission for the exhibition.

The exhibition will remain open throughout the four seasons until October 2021, offering a novel expression of themes of duration, transformation and interconnectivity.

As Meslay says, For Ground/work, our meadows and woodlands serve as a kind of natural gallery, offering visitors the opportunity to venture beyond our institutional walls and contemplate vibrant and inspiring contemporary works set amid the remarkable natural beauty that surrounds them.

Analia Saban,Teaching a CowHow to Draw, 2020. Courtesy of the artist and Tanya BonakdarGallery, New York / Los Angeles

The artists featured in the show include Kelly Akashi, Nairy Baghramian, Jennie C. Jones, Eva LeWitt, Analia Saban, and Haegue Yang, and each artists work responds to its surroundings, the environment and even the museums permanent collection in an individualised way. In Sabans tongue-in-cheek adaptation of a length of split-rail fence, cows who pasture in the Clarks fields are invited to consider the art viewing experience in Teaching a Cow How to Draw. Nairy Bagrahmians sculptures Knee and Elbowabstractly portray these primary joints in the human body in marble and steel, while set in a particularly meditative patch of the grounds Stone Hill pasture.

The siting of each project is grounded in the specificity of the artists unique visions, and we were lucky that it came into being rather organically, say Epstein and Goodman. The result is a show that unfolds through wandering - there is no prescriptive order or hierarchical process of making ones way through the landscape, and we hope that this freedom translates for visitors as a new awareness of the possibilities that both art and nature provide.

Read more here:
Natural high: escape to the Clark Art Institutes first-ever outdoor exhibition - Wallpaper*

I made it3,014 miles in 58 days. There were a few times I had my doubts, as in the Panhandle town of Booker, where I felt very close to calling it quits. Ive had some difficult days, but many more great days. Then there were days like those spent in and around Big Bend that were challenging, yet very rewarding.

Ive seen more of Texas in the last two months than I had in the previous twelve years, since moving here in 2008. But of course, there is so much more to see, mainly all that stuff in the middle. I already have a few more adventures bouncing around in my head, like the ride Josh Spradling and I have dubbed Saint to Saint, a two- or three-day bike and camping trip from St. Elmo Brewing in Austin to Saint Arnold Brewing in Houston. Look for that in 2021, hopefully. For now, I think Ill be sticking close to home.

Ive received messages and comments telling me this journey has been inspiring. I love to hear that. I hope my trip encourages others to take on their own adventures. But also, I think its important to acknowledge the massive privilege I have in taking on something like this. Times are hard right now and just having a full-time job is truly a blessing, not to mention a job that will allow me to wander off on a two-month excursion. There are inherent dangers in taking on any bike trip, but as a white, cisgender, heterosexual man, I had an easier and less risky time of it than many would have. All this being said, I hope everyone is able to find adventure and exploration in any way they see fit.

This week, admittedly, was not super exciting and adventurous, but it was the final leg of a grand journey. Im glad I was able to spend it with friends, new and old, and have my family waiting for me at the finish line.

I had a relaxed morning in my motel. I even had time to make a cup of coffee and watch the news. Because of my long ride the day before from Sanderson, I only had a short thirty-mile ride to Del Rio. It was overcast the entire day and the first half of the ride was misty. I was definitely not in West Texas anymore. The hills had almost flattened and the vegetation thickened, even if it was mostly shrubs. Twenty miles into the ride I pulled out my phone to switch podcasts and the phone slipped out of my hand and bounced into the main part of the road. I slammed my breaks and quickly hopped off my bike as an eighteen-wheeler barreled toward my phone. The wheels missed crushing my phone by a few inches, and my heart fluttered. I took this as a sign that, even though there will be tough days on this tour, I will finish safely and in one piece. Not really. I was just happy that I didnt have to buy a new phone in Del Rio and I could still listen to the next episode of Tom Browns Body.

I passed over the Amistad Reservoir on the Governors Landing Bridge, which seemed to take forever. I tricked myself into thinking I was almost to Del Rio after getting across the bridge, but there were still about ten miles to go; I took them at a leisurely pace. I arrived in Del Rio just in time for lunch, so I treated myself to Buffalo Wild Wings lunch special and a beer on the empty patio.

Photograph by Aaron Chamberlain

This ride was hillier than I thought it would be. I got the wrong impression the day before, when the landscape appeared to be flattening out. I guess I had to wait till the I got to the Valley before things actually leveled out. Almost every hill I climbed had a Border Patrol vehicle on the side of the highway or off in the grass. I probably passed at least twenty patrol vehicles during my 57-mile ride. Other than that, it was pretty mundane. The highlight for me was passing through the quaint tiny town of Quemado. Sadly, most of the more interesting-looking businesses were closed. A couple cafes were open that seemed to be solely patronized by Border Patrol agents. I spent my time in town at the Oasis Grocery, where I sat outside eating candied peanuts and drinking Gatorade and coffee.

One problem on a longish boring ride, besides the boredom, are the mental battles that come up. Like a tingling ache in your knee that you cant stop noticing. On this particular ride, I had a twenty-mile stretch where I couldnt get my mind off my saddle. I kept asking myself questions like, Has it always been this uncomfortable? or Will I ever get comfortable again? I cant ride the rest of the trip like this. The only way to get out of a funk like this is to distract yourself long enough for your mind to move on to the next annoyance. Listening to music or making a phone call can usually change my mind-set. I finally made it into Eagle Pass and my hotel. Beat, I had just enough energy to walk across the street to Sonic for a soggy chicken sandwich.

This was my last rest day of the trip. Josh Spradling, my friend and Austin Beer Guide business partner, came down to ride with me and offer support for a couple days. He also brought beers from Meanwhile Brewing, Austins newest brewery, which opened while I was on this trip, as well as ones from St. Elmo, Live Oak, and Zilker. This was a good distraction before launching into the final leg of the trip.

Photograph by Aaron Chamberlain

While I was getting ready for the days ride, Josh went out for a quick run. When he got back, we set off toward Catarina on our bikes. He was going to ride with me for a while and then head back to the hotel to pack up the truck and meet me farther down the road. I suggested he should do a few laps in the pool to get in a quick triathlon. After about 25 minutes he turned back to Eagle Pass. I dont think he went for a swim.

I pushed on thirty or so miles to Carrizo Springs. There, I met back up with Josh near the courthouse, where early voting was in full swing. After a brief stop at Valero for corndogs and Gatorade, I was back at it and Josh went to our hotel to drop off our stuff. We were staying in Carrizo Springs, but Josh would pick me up in Catarina and we would return to the hotel for the night. Outside Carrizo Springs, the brushy landscape I had become accustomed to in the last three days slowly shifted to one dotted with trees. They werent big trees, but they were trees none the less. At the edge of Catarina is a historic hotel that Id been looking forward to seeing, after spotting it many times on Google Street View in the planning stages of the trip. But as I turned the corner into town, I noticed that all the windows were blown out and that obvious signs of fire damage marked the sides of the building. The entire building had been demolished. Josh later sent me an article about how the hotel had been set ablaze during a thunderstorm in May. Needless to say, it was sort of a depressing note to end my ride on.

We woke up to the news of the passing of Jerry Jeff Walker. Growing up in Florida, the son of Yankees, I was not familiar with his music. It was not until I moved to Texas that I was properly schooled on his tunes. The news was an ominous start to the day. Also, it was unusually chilly for South Texas, but not too cold for riding. I much prefer a cool start and being able to ride in a flannel.

Josh dropped me off in Catarina and we made plans to meet up twenty miles down the road, where he would cut east toward Interstate 35 to head home and I would continue south to Laredo. A large chunk of U.S. 83 south of Catarina was under construction, leaving me with only a tiny sliver of a shoulder for maneuvering. Eighteen-wheelers whizzed past me with only a couple feet of buffer. This was unnerving, but most moved over and gave me plenty of room. The construction ended just in time to meet up with Josh on the side of the road. I grabbed my bags from his car and attached them to my bike. We waved goodbye and once again, I was alone with a fully loaded bike. A few miles after leaving Josh, I came across a group of four cows that began running as I approached. They ran parallel with me on the other side of a fence for at least a minute. Luckily I was going downhill or I wouldnt have been able to keep up with them. Ive never seen cows run that fast or that long.

After a few more hills, it was all downhill into Laredo, via the I-35 frontage road. I ended the night with a Whataburger spicy chicken sandwich and the new Borat movie. Very nice!

Photograph by Aaron Chamberlain

Id stayed on the north side of Laredo the night before, so the beginning of my ride took me through the city, including downtown and past the bridge to Mexico. It was a fun way to start the day. Once out of town, I took my time riding through the rolling hills. I was in no rush. I had planned on camping that evening, so I didnt want to show up too early in Zapata just to sit in the hot afternoon sun. I passed through San Ygnacio about halfway through the ride. Its the oldest town in Zapata County and home to a few historic sights, including a sundial from 1851. Looking back, I wish I had taken a few minutes to steer my bike around the town. I did spend a little bit of time at the Valero on U.S. 83, though.

My plan was to camp at Oso Blanco Motel and RV Park, but when I arrived I learned that it had neither showers or bathrooms for campers. I had three days left. For thirty bucks more, I took a motel room. The worst part about this was that I had been carrying all my camping gear on my bike since Sanderson, just for this one night of camping. This was a big bike touring failure on my part. Im still learning. I got over it pretty quickly after a hot shower. While dining on tuna and crackers, I watched one of my new favorite shows that I had discovered on this trip, Below Deck.

I woke up and heard the wind blowing. I checked my phone only to find out it was a headwind and it would be coming at me around 15 miles per hour and gusting up to 25 miles per hour, all day long. I wanted to stay in bed but reminded myself how close I was to the endonly three more days to go. I groaned and rolled out of bed, packed my stuff on the bike, and set out. Most of the day I was skirting the edge of Falcon Lake, and it was so damn hilly. I was climbing more hills than I had since my ride from Sanderson to Comstock. But I knew after today, the rest of my ride was going to be flat as a pancake. With the hills and the wind, I was creeping. Going uphill I was struggling to hit 8 miles per hour. Then the dogs started coming out. I think I was chased by no fewer than fifteen dogs, all running out from their yards to run after me along U.S. 83. Trying to outrun a German shepherd while riding up a hill in a headwind was one of the hardest aspects of this trip so far. It was a beautiful day, though, sunny and in the eighties. On another day, this might have been a wonderful ride.

I slowly made my way to Roma, fifteen miles out of Rio Grande City, taking breaks often. The rode from Roma to Rio Grande City was absolutely atrocious. Most of the time there was no shoulder and the traffic was frustratingly heavy around 2 p.m. This may be the worst stretch of road Ive ridden on in the last two months, worse than Death Highway in the Permian Basin. I was elated to make it to my hotel. This was not a good day, and I was glad to be done with it. To torture myself I checked the winds for my final two days; to my surprise, they looked good. I crossed my fingers and knocked on wood.

Photograph by Aaron Chamberlain

The finger crossing and the knocking worked, because I woke up and the wind was blowing sixteen miles per hour in the direction I was headed. With just over fifty miles to ride today, plus barely any hills and a tailwind, things were looking good. I had made plans to ride with Pedro Arnulfo, a photographer and Instagram buddy from Mission. We got on the road by 8:30 a.m. and we were immediately rolling easy with the tailwind. He gave me lots of options on routes. I just told him Id prefer to stay away from traffic as much as possible. Pedro knew exactly when and where to turn to avoid traffic and even some hills. He showed me points of interest left and right, like the Santa Cruz monument atop a hill just outside Rio Grande City and La Lomita Chapel, a historic Catholic site in Mission that became a point of dispute in 2018 when its land was set to be seized by the Border Patrol. The ride was the polar opposite of the day before. We had a tailwind, the sun was hidden behind clouds, and it was pretty much flat. There were dogs, though, and we were chased often. Soon enough we had made it to Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, where we ended our ride. My brother-in-law, Javier del Castillo, met us there and drove us back to McAllen. That night we were staying at Premier Martial Arts, Eric and Leticia Arriagas martial arts school (theyre my brother and sister-in-law). I counted this as camping. Once we arrived there, we parted ways with Pedro and went for a barbecue lunch at Smokin Moon BBQ. It was Texas Monthlys BBQ Week, so as a loyal employee I did my best to eat a huge lunch. For dessert we made our way to a local clinic for a COVID-19 test. It was a precautionary measure, as I was about to arrive at my in-laws after spending the last two months traipsing around Texas. Thankfully, I tested negative.

Since Denver City, Ive been carrying around leg warmers and arm warmers. I finally got to wear the leg warmers on this final day, in the Rio Grande Valley, no less. Temps were in the mid-forties when we woke up. When we got to the Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge, I didnt want to get out of the truck. The winds were wild, some of the strongest Id felt since the Panhandle. As luck would have it, they favored me for the day. Id arranged to ride with Marcos Mancha, an Edinburg firefighter. He was going to meet me somewhere down the road. I began my ride and was making great time. In fact, I was going too fast. I had made plans with my family and some friends from Brownsville to meet at the end point around noon; at this speed, Id be way too early. I joined Javier fifteen miles down the road for one last tailgate coffee. We were sipping our coffee when Marcos pulled up. He had worked a 24-hour shift and came straight to meet me for the ride. I guzzled the rest of my coffee and we were on our way.

We zipped down Military Highway and rode into Brownsville without much effort. But we were early. We had to kill at least 45 minutes, so I suggested we ride over to 7th & Park, a coffee and bike shop. There we met the owner, Graham Sevier-Schultz, who graciously bought us our coffees. We talked about the trip and riding in Brownsville. As we finished our coffees it was approaching noon, but some of my family had not made it to my finish line at Xeriscape Park. Dont worry, I am not going to call them out here. Once I knew the entire family was within walking distance of the park, we shoved off from the shop and headed toward the Gateway International Bridge across from the park. It was a short five-minute ride through downtown Brownsville along Elizabeth Street. Anticlimactically, I was stopped by a traffic light just across an intersection from the park, where my family and a few journalists were waiting, my family hooting and hollering. As I pulled into the intersection and across to the park, I had a big grin on my face under my buff. Everyone in my family had on T-shirts adorned with the jagged map of Texas I had drawn with my bike over the past 58 days. We hugged and slowly popped open a bottle of sparkling cider. I took a little time to be interviewed by a couple reporters and have our pictures taken. Then just like that, it was over and we were driving back to my in-laws house. I heard they had beer there.

Read the original:
Tour de Texas: I Just Biked Around the Entire State - Texas Monthly