Spring Nesting Project Discovered

Mexican House Finch nest (photographed in Winter) a collaboration between the finches and myself. Nest created using synthetic and natural fibers.

New York, NY

This past Spring, I began to interact with the wildlife in my area while allowing that interaction to be as natural as possible. I had noticed a pair of Mexican House Finches that had wanted to nest in the palm tree in my apartment. They were chirping to each other as they eyed the tree through the glass window. It was clear that the two were out looking for a home. It was equally clear that my room was filled with sculptures that mimic the environments that wildlife are looking for. It dawned on me that we could work together and build a nest.

Now building a nest is no small task, so I left the building to the experts, the finches themselves. I became one of many neighborhood material providers. Some providers, like the workers at a nearby construction site were probably unaware that the finches were raiding their discarded rope and strapping materials. I was equally unaware of their other sources until I noticed their nest after a big snowfall this past January.

I began by collecting up all of the pieces of natural fibers that I had discarded in my studio. Bits of linen and silk thread, wool yarn and the like. I made a hanging sock out of a length of women's nylons that I also use in my work. Week after week seemed to go by and all I could hear were their chirping nearby. I decided to add other fluffier materials that could charm a finch. I loaded additional materials to the existing fibers, this time adding Spanish moss, and some eco packing materials made from recycled wood. The sock was now overstuffed with a great variety of materials and it worked it's magic.

Several pairs of Mexican House Finches began appearing at my window to raid the goods. There was an Alpha pair (the reddest male who has managed to gorge himself on the most red berries and turn himself brighter red than the rest) and two other pairs. What I had not considered was that the finches saw my early sock offering and probably decided on their nesting site due to the materials. When I heard them chirping nearby, they were building the base of the nest from the construction materials. My supplies provided the inner nest materials.

I managed to capture a bit of video of the Alfa Finch as he raided the goods. This was no small task, because he is quite adept at making a very quick raid. (I am currently editing this video clip for presentation later. ) The Summer came and went, and what I did not realize, due to the thick leaf cover, was that the finches raised their offspring about fifteen feet from my window.

Just a couple of weeks ago I was looking out my window when I spotted a blotch of snow suspended in the tree. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that it was the nest containing the materials from my "nest helper" sock along with a great variety of other materials. I was, and continue to be quite happy with our collaboration.

The finch's ability to adapt to their changing world allowed them to make a fabulous storm proof nest. Will they reuse the nest? I doubt it, but I am not entirely sure. Most birds start from scratch every year. Which gives us a good reason to collaborate once again this next May.

Revisiting the Artist Statement

Introduction: Environmental Sculptures

by Anna Peach

The Introduction series began within my first year after moving to Hawaii. I moved due to my love of islands. There is something about islands which remains just beyond my reach. My entire adult life has been dedicated to the study of islands. I have done it on my own. I have taken in over seventy islands in fifteen countries, from the North Atlantic to the Indo Pacific Rim. I have moved through them with trust in myself and a need to express it. ‘Home’ has become a fluid concept. With time, I became aware of the categorization of life on islands. More specifically what was perceived as ‘belonging’ as opposed to ‘not belonging’ was often a shift of time and desire. The term Introduction was chosen to mark the start of my exploration in environmental sculpture while also referencing the ‘introduction’ of both plants and people to this island.

The awareness of flora defining place falls into many scientific categories, from Bio geographic diversity to Ethno botany. Island isolation makes for scientific hot spots. Hawaii is where the introduction of new species is ripe with controversy, making the news nightly. It was this that brought me to try to make sense of the spirit of a people and their land in terms of environmental sculpture. I place myself somewhere between Indigenous peoples and science: our link is passion for the land. I am on my own journey through time and place, but unlike science I do not deal in absolutes. I dwell in the hazy shadows of the displaced flora.

I have chosen to use ‘real’ clothing elements combined with naturally occurring plant materials. Garments were selected which contain and control the human form. Plants are used in various ways, some for dye and others for raw materials. I use ‘real’ objects which are ‘in Hawaii’ but not ‘of Hawaii.’ Noxious vines and invading grasses are often my selected medium. These unwanted floras were once coveted ornamentals and now poisoned so to control. Now overgrown in precarious places: swampy wasteland and highway ditches. Collection is the basis of the process. It is in those long hours I watch the light move, the subtleties of season, and I know the land like the back of my hand. Yet I am constantly reminded that these seeds do not belong here nor do I.

The plant choice also explores the human impact on a place. Each plant was brought here for a purpose, but now they have inherited the titles Alien, Invasive and Introduced species. Our romantic notions of landscape are rekindled nonetheless. I create beautiful pieces which lure you in but they also remind us that in a land where everything grows, control is tenuous. These plants remain uncontrollable, a reminder of our human limitations.

After selecting a species I reduce them to the core of their power: reproduction through seed. I leave the seed intact so that the element of time continues. These are not static sculptures easing themselves to decay, but rather they are waiting for renewal, to begin again.
This seed in waiting further pushes the element of control. The very construct of these sculptures requires government intervention prior to leaving the State. Control is interwoven at every level of these works. Some of these pieces will never be able to leave the Islands as their natural chemical make up is of HCN also known as cyanide. They are in essence trapped: they do not belong here yet they cannot leave.

The utilitarian element remains within the work. They are a functional wardrobe complete with clothing hangers. Yet their nature lends them to become garments for the spirits of the land rather than human counterparts. They float suspended in time and space. In my compulsion to reorder nature, the human struggle to come to terms with the temporal and eternal becomes apparent: to control what cannot be controlled. The end results are sculptures which give shape to that which our eyes cannot see.

Ethno botany is interwoven with contemporary fashion styles. Reclaimed corsets, girdles and shoes not only reference a ‘real’ person who may or may not be alive, but also a moment of transition in cultural change. These garments reference the impact of contact with Westerners, reminding us of the vague and often contradictory explanations of what the pre-contact people wore. They also reference my own observations in Melanesia where the modern ‘underwire’ stands in for the coconut bra of dubious lineage. In my sculptures the clothing items have also been permeated with the dye of other alien plants, so to remain foreign to the core.

The articles of clothing mix references to East and West. I struggle and perhaps come to terms with my role among the displaced. I attempt to discern the distinctions of place in a contemporary global culture. I risk romanticizing the alien species in the same manner of earlier introductions. I too must remain responsible for these works if I return them to the land, as the advance of the species becomes imminent.

Sculptures created from highly invasive plant materials are released through fire. Burning not only complements the temporal nature, but it is the only amicable solution for balancing the ecosystem, romanticism and spirituality. Other less invasive sculptures, embalmed in varnish or protective cases they become like specimens of contemporary Hawaii.

Earth, fire, wind and water: the four elements which push and pull upon the sculptures of Introduction. They are the constant yet ever changing forces upon my new island home. Living on the most volcanically active island on earth makes it only fitting that I confront some of life’s more difficult challenges - the ability to let go and accept change. I trust that there will be beautiful plants to surround ourselves with - even if they are a long way from home.

Camouflage Union Square

It ended up being more powerful to face the rain than the sun. It is always that way. You say that you want to have things go perfectly with clear skies, warmth and glow around but you really don't want it that way. Ambiguity and chaos are more interesting. Face the cold and the shadows and then you have something to remember. Stand in silence, cloaked as nature, in this private act shared.

The Ocean is my Bathtub/The Bathtub is the Ocean

Video stills by be, from the video of the same name. 2007 Newfoundland

Camouflage

Miyoko in full camouflage. Central Park, NYC, Feb 2008

So I am sort of dragging this post out for a while, but I keep thinking that a little more of the story is revealed in the images. I think Miyoko looks quite content to be in the full regalia. I think that I need to get back to art making again. The beginning of the month was a fury of creativity that was soon replaced by dollar earning and illness. I need to get a couple of pieces completed and submitted to a show back in Honolulu. I feel a world away from Hawaii right about now. But the sun shines bright and tonight somewhere in that sky lies a full moon.

Fertility Suits

Letting go

I let Waterhorse go to the sea (last week), in a solitary reunion with its environment. It could have been a place of great importance. A great ship landing...an explorer's visit...or even a place of devastation. Instead I chose the spot where the waste water spills into the cove. A calm space where fattened baby sea gulls drift in the shelter of artificial constructs. The launch had none of the grace that I envisioned, that is until the sea claimed it again. The launch was simply a crash of dry seaweed upon the water's surface. Nothing more than a swift drop. The sea first pushed it in before slowly unraveling its woven form, reshaping it into ribbons that again took on life. The ribbons of kelp were now bleached from the sun, and the salt now brought to its surface.

In Hawai'i they say if a lei is returned, so will you-so I am not sure what to make of the drastic movement that pushed the piece under the false stone that covered the waste water pipe until it was slowly turned and unraveled before being sucked out to sea in dramatic swirls of life intermixed with steel grey and punctuated with waste. The young gulls continued to test their wings against incoming gusts of wind. Gradually the wind threw rain like thorns in my side. I walked in then, thinking my small ceremony complete. Walking the trail of cod back one last time to the shelter of home.

environmental art show

Still from underwater video by Anna Peach, Newfoundland 2007


I had a funny last couple of weeks, trying to get some closure with the spring residency. (It still is spring up here to me...since I am wearing a sweater most days)I decided to participate in an environmental festival which included an art exhibition. I spoke with the director and next thing you know I was told to bring my laptop and screen my unedited (as if they will ever be edited) videos to show along with some of my zoo plankton inspired sculptures to float in midair in the corner. All went well, video charmed even the most cynical environmentalist so it seemed. It was all going so well until I checked the silent auction book and someone actually bought my sculptures...oh no...that wasn't supposed to happen. What were the odds. Yes, I do realize that art does occasionally sell and that is really part of the whole process...but I have to admit that I really loved my portable hanging zoo plankton made from old cork floats and white silk threads. So now to plan B...finding more old cork so to try to replicate the pieces as best as I could for the upcoming show in Honolulu. Ah, life is funny that way. I spent a good part of a week combing the harbor for any trace of cork...something, anything. The first ones were washed under a slipway in Pouch Cove. I was able to find some suitable ones in an antique store, but a lengthy talk by the 86 year old proprietress had me in a panic as it turned into a "good luck sister" sort of talk about the demise of the Spanish cork trees and the historical value of these artifacts that have slipped from use due to scarcity. So I grab up all the decaying bits of dusty cork from the bin in the corner and find myself grateful for anything...