sculpture in the wild, blackfoot pathway, lincoln, montana

INSPIRATION
Er min inspiration til dette projekt var et foto sendt mig er kurator KO. Jeg men det er forestiller to gigantiske væltede træer, liggende parallelt, tilsyneladende sammenvoksede ved rødderne...
Meget inspirerende for mig til at skabe noget universelt med et stedsspecifikt udgangspunkt.
Disse to sammenhørende træstammr kunne jeg bruge til at skabe et værk, som realiserede den umulige drøm om at kunne forenes, og samtidig skabe en slags rituel port, som vi alle vil kunne gå igennem.
Siden udbyggede jeg denne vision ved at skabe et miljø omkring porten. På den ene side et højsæde. Modsat højsædet placerede jeg en lille gylden by, som var synlig fra højsædet gennem porten. En gave til beskueren i højsædet, og en fantasi-befordrende hyldest til træet, stedets natur.

Alle tre elementer i denne naturinstallation er skabt af stammerne fra de to - ved rødderne sammenvoksede - træer. Se nedenfor i billedserien.

PORTEN - GATEWAY OF CHANGE

Jeg tænker på porten som værende magisk. Alle porte er overgange, - fra ét sted til et andet sted. At gå gennem en port er en slags overgangsritual. Jeg har her skabt betingelserne for, at besøgende vil kunne opleve et helt nyt og tankevækkende overgangsritual. Derfor navnet: Gateway of Change
Og jeg skabte dette værk mens Obama var den første sorte præsident i USA.

den gyldne by

Den gyldne by består af små husformer udsavet i flere stykker træstamme, nedgravet i jorden. Husk tagene er beklædt med bladguld. Den gyldne by er der for mig et poetisk udsagn, som kan tolkes på forskellige vis...utopia, Shangrila, fantasiens højborg, den gyldne stad, osv.

Højsædet

 På engelsk kalder jeg højsædet for Spiral Chair. Her må den besøgende klatre op, ud af sin komfortzone og er klar til at se med lidt friskere øjne på værket og stedet. Man stiger op af syv trin for at nå til højsædet. På siden af de to højeste stammer her jeg udskåret et indiansk inspireret tæppe, måske et flyvende tæppe…

Ide og Digt-citater

Mere stedspecifikt: Områdets oprindelige navn er Blackfoot Pathway. Det her var engang sortfodsindianernes land, og de passerede her igennem for at nå frem til prærien, hvor de jagede bøfler. Den oprindelige befolkning i USA har stadig urimelige forhold på mange områder. Dette kommer blandt andet til udtryk i moderne indianeres poesi. 
Op ad den ene stamme - den venstre på nedenstående foto - har jeg skrevet en række citater af nulevende indianske poeter, digtere.
Op ad den anden stamme har jeg skrevet citater af hvide amerikanske digtere.
I overliggeren mødes og sammenføjes disse citater
Op ad den venstre stamme står:

citater fra indianske nulevende digtere mm.

- TODAY, START SINGING BACK YOUR BEAUTY
Jennifer Finlay

- COKAHALISHKIT
The Nez Perce name for the Blackfoot River is Cokahalishkit, which means ‘river of the road to the buffalo.’

...RECONCILIATION BETWEEN NATION STATES AND THE FORESTS THAT SUSTAIN US...
Speech by Oren R. Lyons, Faith Keeper, Turtle Clan, to the World Conference on Indigenous People at United Nations on September 22, 2014

ONE ELK STEPS INTO BLURRED WATER…
...HE LOOKS AND DRINKS THE SKY.
Heather Cahoon

citater fra hvide amerikanske digtere

WILD HONEY FLOODING YOUR PLANS
FLOODING THE HOURS…
THAT RIVER DIVIDES MORE THANTWO SIDES OF YOUR LIFE
William Stafford

...A SYMPHONY OF COLOR PAINTED BY A THOUSAND DIFFERENT PLANTS...
Mike Mansfield.

..SNOWBERRY, BULL THISTLE, GROUND ROSE WITH RED HIPS...
Jennifer Thompson

A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT
Norman Maclean

KÆRLIGHED

De forbundne træer er også for mig et kærlighedssymbol. Dette har jeg antydet ved at udskære en lille hjerteform i højsædet og male den røde i udskæringen. På siden af højsædet har jeg udsavet et indiansk, eller måske magisk, flyvende tæppe..

Vinter i Montana.

digte mm. citeret på porten

FULL TEXTS relating to the quotes on 
A GATEWAY OF CHANGE. Selection by Jorn Ronnau

 1. Quotes by white american poets and others on the left tree, seen from the chair:

 - A RIVER RUNS THROUGH IT

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. 
I am haunted by waters.” 

Norman Maclean was born in Clarinda, Iowa, 1902. Moved to Montana in 1909. The following years inspired his novella, A River Runs Through It and Other Stories 

A River Runs Through It, is an American classic.  Based on Norman Maclean's childhood experiences, A River Runs Through It, has established itself as one of the most moving stories of our time; it captivates readers with vivid descriptions of life along Montana's Big Blackfoot River and its near magical blend of fly fishing with the troubling affections of the heart.

 - WILD HONEY FLOODING YOUR PLANS
FLOODING THE HOURS…
THAT RIVER DIVIDES MORE THAN
TWO SIDES OF YOUR LIFE

 Looking for Gold
By William Stafford from The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems.

 A flavor like wild honey begins
when you cross the river. On a sandbar
sunlight stretches out it’s limbs, or is it
a sycamore, so brazen, so clean and bold?
you forget about gold, You stare – and a flavor
is rising all the time from the trees.
Back from the river, over by a thick
forest, you feel the tide of wild honey
flooding your plans, flooding the hours
till they waver forward looking back. They can’t
return: that river divides more than
two sides of your life. The only way
is farther, breathing that country, becoming
wise in its flavor, a native of the sun.

William Edgar Stafford (1914 –1993) was an American poet and pacifist. He was appointed the twentieth Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress in 1970.  

 - A SYMPHONY OF COLOR PAINTED BY A THOUSAND DIFFERENT PLANTS...

 “To me Montana is a symphony of color, painted by a thousand different plants and shrubs which set the hills ablaze – each with its own kind of inner fire.”
 Mike Mansfield from the book, Montana on my Mind, p. 113.

Mike Mansfield (1903 –  2001) was an American poet and diplomat.

 
- SNOWBERRY, BULL THISTLE, GROUND ROSE WITH RED HIPS...

 A Day Off
Jennifer Thompson

The quiet, moist rising
senses their absence…
Where are they?
says the Rising,
the Oregon Grape, Snowberry, Short Wild Rose
Bull Thistle and small, black biting flies.
Where are they?
Those who tromp on us
and bring the cat claw around
to claim this or that log.
Where is the Vision in the air, buzzing
and the Creative pouring forth?
Where are those who honor the simple Nature of who we are…
who would award our being
with an art?
The one who sees beauty in the hard, dry sticks
of the P. Pine,
Over there he works busily alone
in a frame.
The one who contemplates Big
and waits upon the spirit of
log and root to speak.
The one who brings all the community forth
to work with the discarded
and the form and rise of the land.
The one who works with air, the shining 
and the ancient ones.
The one who knows our history
and cares…
knows even patina’s story
and the night burner’s myth.
He loves the Jackpole fence,
spending side-by-side evening time
sketching.
The tall Ponderosas sway
with a winter wind premonition.
Some of our young were cut down,
Say the older red-bark ones
but now all the limbing, peeling, down to the true straight
form of yellow-white smoothness…
their death
making beauty
ready to happen.
Rising to glory sky
house on stilts 
birthing.
No busy bees of community this morning?
talking, laughing, learning
particulars
of how to lay
the great form upward.
Sweeping a water wave on land
his hand points
his brow knits
and he lets go…
waiting for paper.
Maybe stick man will come anyway
on his day off.
He loves to climb on us,
Art as scaffolding 
and sure design.
He climbs and eyes
for the pure joy of it!
We love having him
in our village
like his of far away
full of straight trees
and a father’s teaching hand.
We seek the wife of the Big Carver
with woolen scarf and tanned skin.
She sees our ample Beauty,
a gatherer
with the heart of the plant’s eye,
she binds our colors of fall
soft and stark
subtle with edge
in the universal,
momentary circle.
The P. Pines ask for the Big Carver.
He knows our mind
which lay inside readable, concentric growth lines,
which lay inside our skeletal rise of Being.
He has studied us from afar,
now close-up.
He has read the poems of praise.
Now his quest
Tangible…
to make something new
that honors us.
And where is the Historian now?
The Irish one who left his accent on the isle.
You can find him
this last night,
laying on the Earth
of the Lander’s Fork
inside Delany’s burner,
quiet in the cone of history,
pulling from the metal sheets
and soft, powdery soil
all the human stories
that will make his art vibrate
with who this small town was
and into the future
should Be.
Taking this stand
of Honoring
in serious steed.
Where is the other Irishman
who kicks up the dusty road
with his bicycle?
and extracts from that same dust
molecules of memory
from the ancient ones,
those who walked through
the flat, open valley
of meadows and game.
He tracks the sound of the Elk
back to venerable arrow.
Riding his bike
helps him to hear this music.
Still searching for the oldest word
that expresses the goodness of the Earth,
an Earth that is here for us.
Silence now
on this day off
yet in the air
is the hum
of the Honoring Pulse.
Yes, we brought you here,
says the Snowberry,
Ground Rose with red hips,
Oregon Grape, Bitterberry
Spreading seed Thistle,
P. Pine and Doug Fir,
powder soil
and fall, compress air of color.
We rang you
and you came.
Thank You!

 Written for the launching artists of the Lincoln Sculpture Park on the 19th of September 2014, 
Jorn Ronnau, Jaakko Pernu, Alan Counihan, Steven Siegel, Kevin O’Dwyer.

Jennifer Thompson has her Masters in Expressive Therapies and is an Environmental Performance Artist. She volunteered for the Sculpture in the Wild in Lincoln, Montana, September 2014.

 2. Quotes by native american poets and others on the right tree, seen from the chair:

 - COKAHALISHKIT

The Nez Perce name for the Blackfoot River is Cokahalishkit, which means ‘river of the road to the buffalo.’
Western Montana’s Blackfoot River has become one of the state’s most popular and important recreational streams. Its natural setting and features and the fame gained from the movie, A River Runs Through It, have all contributed to its popularity. Fishing, non-motorized floating, camping, nature watching and just plain getting away from it all are included in the ever growing public uses of the Blackfoot. The Blackfoot Valley provides habitat for a wide variety of plants and animals including grizzly bears, bighorn sheep, moose, elk, osprey, bald eagles, pileated woodpeckers, and neotropical migrant songbirds. This free flowing river provides significant habitat for sensitive fish species such as bull and cutthroat trout, as well as rainbow and brown trout.

The Blackfoot River area has been occupied by Native Americans for at least 10,000 years. It is believed that most of the use of this area consisted of summertime hunting camps and as a travelway between the Great Plains and lands to the west of the Continential Divide. This latter use was well documented in historic times, when a portion of the Corps of Discovery, under the leadership of Meriwether Lewis, traveled through the Blackfoot Valley and crossed the divide at the head of Alice Creek on their return trip. They had learned of this route from the Nez Perce of Idaho, who traveled it to the Upper Missouri River basin in order to hunt buffalo. The Nez Perce name for the Blackfoot River is Cokahalishkit, which means ‘river of the road to the buffalo.’ The primary highway travel route is Highway 200 that follows the Blackfoot River through the small community of Lincoln and continues up and over the Continental Divide over Rogers Pass. Lewis and Clark Pass is the next pass north of the main travel way.

 
- RECONCILIATION BETWEEN NATION STATES AND THE FORESTS THAT SUSTAIN US...

 Remarks to the World Conference on Indigenous Peoples
Oren R. Lyons, Faith Keeper, Turtle Clan, Onondaga Nation, Haudenosaunee
September 22, 2014, General Assembly Hall, United Nations Headquarters, NYC.

 I am going to repeat myself:
Leaders of the World:
Neyaweha-scano (Thank you for being well).
Today I bring you greetings from the Indigenous Peoples of North, Central and South America. Indeed, I bring you greetings from the Indigenous Peoples of the world.
We are the keepers of the traditions, ceremonies, histories, and future of our nations. We are the ones who escaped from your proselytizing. We survived with the wisdom of the Old Ones.And we are pleased to add our voices to yours in this great effort for common sense and peace among nations.
Leaders of the World:
I bring you a most urgent message that was brought to our 23rd annual gathering of the Traditional Circle of Elders and youth. This message was brought by a runner from the north, from Greenland, and he said:The ice is melting in the north!
He informed us that some 15 years ago they noticed trickles of water coming down the sheer face of Glacier Mountain. That trickle has grown to a roaring river of ice water pouring out of this mountain into the Atlantic Ocean.
He informed us that Glacier Mountain has lost thousands of feet of ice in these past few years. And the melt continues to accelerate.
This is an alarming message that requires your absolute attention.
Leaders of the World:
We are a collective voice of Indigenous Peoples. We have joined this great mission for peace. We add our presence in support of this great effort for reconciliation between peoples and nations.
We agree that there must be parity and equity between rich and poor nations, between white people and people of color, and rich people and poor people, with special attention to women, children, and indigenous peoples.
We, in our collective voices, add to this: that there must be a reconciliation between peoples and the natural world, between nation states and the forests that sustain us, between corporations and the resources they mine, the fish that they catch, and the water that they use.
Leaders of the World:
Indigenous nations and peoples believe in the spiritual powers of the universe. We believe in the ultimate power and authority of a limitless energy beyond our comprehension. We believe in the order of the universe. We believe in the laws of creation and that all life is bound by these same natural laws. We call this essence the spirit of life. This is what gives the world the energy to create and procreate, and becomes the ponderous and powerful law of regeneration – the law of the seed.
We, in our collective voices, speak to this to remind you that spirit and spiritual laws transcend generations. We know, because this has sustained us.
Religion and spirituality is vital to survival and moral law. It is a faith that has sustained out human spirit through our darkest hours. It has sustained our human spirit in times of crisis during the times we suffered through the grinding measures of inexorable persecutions that have spanned generations and continue today. Yet here we are, today, adding our voices to this plea for sanity in leadership and responsibility to the future generations whose faces are looking up from the Earth, each awaiting their time of life here.
Leaders of the World:
The collective voices of indigenous people add that we are saddened by the absence of our brother, the Dali Lama, in this forum. We believe that reconciliation should begin here because peace is an inclusive term, and peace and reconciliation is the purpose of this summit.
Peace is dynamic and requires great effort of spirit and mind to attain unity. Leaders of peace must step forward and take responsibility for a paradigm change in the direction of current lifestyles and materialistic societies. The human species has become the most voracious and abusive consumer of Earth’s resources. We have tipped the balance of life against our children, and we imperil our future as a species.
Leaders of the World:
Despite all of our declarations and all of proclamations, no matter how profound they may be: The ice is melting in the north! We see the acceleration of the winds. We see the fires that are raging in North America. And we see that the sun’s rays that provide us with light, energy, and the very essence of life now are causing cancer in people, blinding animals, and killing the plankton and krill of the sea.
This is only the beginning, and already we are helpless. We will now see the real spiritual powers that govern the Earth.
Leaders of the World: 
As we speak, the ice continues to melt in the north.
I first gave this same speech fourteen years ago in this same building. I gave it in August 2000. It is a statement reflecting the position of the traditional Circle of Indian Elders and Youth, Communique No. 20 and was delivered on their behalf by myself to the Millennium World Peace Summit of Religious and Spiritual Leaders at the United Nations in New York on August 28-31, 2000. I serve as the representative of the Haudenosaunee delegation to the Traditional Circle of Indian Elders and Youth.
That is fourteen wasted years. Fourteen years of inaction.
Dahnato (now I am finished). Neyaweha (thank you).
The first World Conference on Indigenous Peoples was held on 22-23 September 2014. The meeting was an opportunity to share perspectives and best practices on the realization of the rights of indigenous peoples, including pursuing the objectives of the United Nations Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples.

 Oren R. Lyons, Jr. (born 1930) is a native american  Faithkeeper of the Turtle Clan of the Seneca Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy.  Lyons is now a recognized advocate of indigenous rights. 

 
- TODAY, START SINGING BACK YOUR BEAUTY

 Every Good Story
By Jennifer Finley-Greene

 Every good story
that flies into my heart
reminds me of what I really know.
I hope all the stories I shared with you
remind you of what you already know.
I pray each of these stories
is like a bluebird
or a purple flower
or some other piece of beauty
that flies across your path
when you least expect it.
I pray each of these stories
reminds you
that your voice is meant to be loved.
Today
be a rainstorm of dances,
sing your way back to yourself,
your spirit is here right now!
There’s always more to life than you know.
Every part of me that loves
to laugh, sing and dance
is here right now.
And I am strong because
I accept my strength
like the Earth accepts rain.
Today the blessings
run like rivers
through all of us.

 I’m sorry for all the times
your heart has been broken.
But your heart still believes in love
even if you don’t.
Your heart still needs love
as much as it always has.
If I could hold each of you
I would.
Sometimes you must find a way
to see your own goodness
because that’s what holds you.
Your heart is braver than you know.
No matter what
we have not done
or did not say
There is hope for us.
All of us.
We must stop defining ourselves
By who did not love us…
Do not let people
who do not love you
decide how much you’re worth.
Do not let the people
who think you’re invisible
decide which parts of yourself you see.
Step into the light.
No matter how much darkness
there’s been.
You have always been worth fighting for…
You have always been worth standing up for…
You have always been worth dancing for…
You have always been worth singing for.
Today,
start singing back your beauty.
Get up and dance for yourself…
Dance for all that is good…
Dance for who you really are…
Because you’re still here
and I believe in all of you.
I believe in all of us.
The real you is still here…
Your spirit has always been faithful to you.
Your spirit is still by your side,
waiting for you
to ask it
to dance.

Jennifer Finley-Greene, member of the Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes, is an award-winning poet and journalist.  She is the author of three books, and her work has appeared in anthologies.  

 - ONE ELK STEPS INTO BLURRED WATER…
...HE LOOKS AND DRINKS THE SKY.

 Elk Thirst 
by Heather Cahoon

Yellow fields thirst. Dryness
lifts the blues and greens
from trees that grow
in uneven rows along
the Flathead’s angry pace.
Shallow water follows
the route it has for centuries,
wrapping around cliffs, rocks
that climb into the sky,
sharp edges
softened by water
that forever slides across
these walls as it flows
to urgent falls. Here it plummets
and dives deep.
Rocks and sticks turn
bleak eyes away. Brook trout
swim fast and leave streaks.
The sun reflects in silver scales
by day, at night passion.
Strong colors eat the sky.
One elk steps into blurred water
and drinks. His thoughts,
improbable, he looks and drinks the sky.

 Heather Cahoon is from the Flathead Indian Reservation in western Montana where she is an enrolled Pend d’ Oreille. She holds an M.F.A. in Poetry from The University of Montana, Missoula, where she was the recipient of a Richard Hugo Memorial Fellowship.  Her collection of poems, entitled, Elk Thirst, won the 2005 Merriam-Frontier Award for publication.  Cahoon also holds an interdisciplinary Ph.D. in History, Anthropology and Native American Studies.  She lives in Missoula with her two small sons and husband, and she teaches at The University of Montana, Missoula.