Leaving Wendover in the rain we cross the flats and drive around the Great Salt Lake in one last pilgrimage to view the infamous earthwork by Robert Smithson; Spiral Jetty. Submerged for more than two decades, it has resurfaced for a new generation to see and in doing so has generated a renewed interest in Smithson's work. Before continuing on to Spiral Jetty, we stop in Salt Lake City at the Utah Museum of Fine Arts to view the exhibit, "The Smithson Effect," which examines the influence of Smithson's work on contemporary artists. Driving out to the remote site, we pass estuaries populated by strange birds, a rocket factory and the Golden Spike Monument, commemorating the location where the final spike was driven in the railroad that finally linked East to West. Past the monument, we continue on yet another dirt road. Luckily, with the increased traffic to Spiral Jetty after its reemergence, the road has been recently improved, so the risk of another flat is minimal. Nearing the site, we pass another manmade jetty, this one constructed in the 80's for oil exploration and then abandoned.
Finally we round Promontory Point and the spiral appears. With the recent rains, it is only partially above water, but shallow enough that the entire form is visible and Shana, with her trusty rubber boots, is able to walk out on it. In some ways, these iconic artworks are tainted by the memories of the countless images of them that linger in our memories, planted there from art school lectures. This baggage makes it hard for me to see Spiral Jetty on its own terms. I find myself comparing it to what I thought it would look like, rather than seeing it for what it is. But what a picture can never capture is the true grandeur of place, and what seems to me to be the greatest gift these remote works of art give is the fact that they provide a reason to journey to otherwise hidden places. The art becomes the site itself.
We climb the hill on Promontory Point to get a wide view of the earthwork and pass the ruins of a house foundation. One wonders if Smithson chose this site partially because of the ruin, if perhaps this is one of Smithson's entropic sites. Smithson considered progress to be a fallacy, that in fact all matter and energy is degrading to an ultimate state of inert uniformity. As Spiral Jetty vanishes and reappears, each time further eroded, it is acts as a demonstration of this principle. The foundation ruin holds my attention as I compare it to the miniature foundation that we brought with to photograph, and I begin to wonder, at what point do the ghosts depart a site? How far must this foundation erode before all memory of its former inhabitants is lost? Is there anyone alive today who knows the story of this house? Can anyone tell me the name anyone who lived there, or why they chose this remote place? When the story is lost, is there anything besides stones that remain?
Finally we round Promontory Point and the spiral appears. With the recent rains, it is only partially above water, but shallow enough that the entire form is visible and Shana, with her trusty rubber boots, is able to walk out on it. In some ways, these iconic artworks are tainted by the memories of the countless images of them that linger in our memories, planted there from art school lectures. This baggage makes it hard for me to see Spiral Jetty on its own terms. I find myself comparing it to what I thought it would look like, rather than seeing it for what it is. But what a picture can never capture is the true grandeur of place, and what seems to me to be the greatest gift these remote works of art give is the fact that they provide a reason to journey to otherwise hidden places. The art becomes the site itself.
We climb the hill on Promontory Point to get a wide view of the earthwork and pass the ruins of a house foundation. One wonders if Smithson chose this site partially because of the ruin, if perhaps this is one of Smithson's entropic sites. Smithson considered progress to be a fallacy, that in fact all matter and energy is degrading to an ultimate state of inert uniformity. As Spiral Jetty vanishes and reappears, each time further eroded, it is acts as a demonstration of this principle. The foundation ruin holds my attention as I compare it to the miniature foundation that we brought with to photograph, and I begin to wonder, at what point do the ghosts depart a site? How far must this foundation erode before all memory of its former inhabitants is lost? Is there anyone alive today who knows the story of this house? Can anyone tell me the name anyone who lived there, or why they chose this remote place? When the story is lost, is there anything besides stones that remain?
