Time, always an element in the work of Andy Goldsworthy - both as a medium and as a metaphor - is celebrated in this book. Text contributions are compiled from Goldsworthy's own diaries of visits to five locations in North America and Europe.
In his first major publication for four years (excepting the smaller, project-led
Arch and
Wall), Andy Goldsworthy examines the complementary dimension in his work to the sheer physicality of
Stone and
Wood. The recent work included here is at once new and recognisable: an illustrated chronology by curator and long-time admirer Terry Friedman reveals themes that he has revisited and variegated over 25 years, and to which time has lent an increasingly influential angle, while remaining rooted in the British landscape. The creation of a work a day connects up his life in a continuous artistic narrative, while his earthy materials often draw on centuries of artisan heritage, while embracing seasonal change. The issue of power is fundamental to his working: there is a sense in which he plays God with the potential of his resources, and for the observer, some of the magic lies in the split moment when one sees his instilled order without mental recourse to his hand. The effect can be strikingly epiphanic. At the other end of the spectrum, his communion with the elements puts him at their mercy, subjugating to their will, and investing his creations with an unpredictability fundamental to his intention. Snow melts, ice collapses, clay cracks, wind blows; he is "nurturing" rather than "forcing" a form into being.
The photographic records are sublime, and vital to his ephemerality, whether in Montreal, Digne, Nova Scotia, Holland, New Mexico or Cornell. The accompanying text, a continuing dialogue for Goldsworthy, explores still further his familiar conceits, though diary excerpts give evidence of the toil behind the beauty, and bring out the unpredictability of his work, from which he unflaggingly draws inspiration, whether on a beach, in a river, in a wood, or in a gallery. One is left with an intuitively organic sense of continuity, of which this absorbing and lavish volume is itself a record of regenerative temporality: "What I have made so far gives me a strong sense of the work yet to come." --David Vincent