InterCity

You arrive at New York's Penn Station fifteen minutes ahead of the train's scheduled departure, uncharacteristic of you, but your morning meeting in DC is important, and out of nervousness, you left the apartment a little early. While you stand on the platform, you shake your head thinking of the old days in which you would be biting your fingernails in the taxi crawling through traffic to the airport, and suffer the indignities of the security line for a flight, the door to door time being four hours. You never cease to marvel at the sleek white bullet trains as this one pulls into the station, or at the ease of the 2 hours door to door that your journey will take today.

High speed train in Hamburg Station











Though this may seem like a fantasy, it is the reality today in Europe. Germany, especially, has made tremendous investments in its high-speed rail system, and is reaping the rewards. The world marvels at the German miracle, but it is no miracle, it is the result of smart investment. The Deutsche Bahn connects Europe, creates a very efficient place for people to work and live, and, not coincidentally, binds the continent together. Germany is also making major investments in renewable energy, investments that will pay off many times in the future, as have the investments in high-speed trains.

Evening storm clouds over wind mills in Baltic Sea










In America while our politicians debate the reality of climate change, scientists, unless they are under the pay of climate deniers, unanimously stress the urgency for action to reduce carbon release. Investments are never easy when they are made, but they pay off. As the world changes, the conditions will favor new industries, and the old interests will resist that change. It has always been so: carriage makers undoubtedly fought the dominance of the automobile. The world will change, and carbon energy will be obsolete. Those that have invested in alternatives will come out ahead, those economies that have been dominated and directed by obsolete industries will stumble.

Humans are not good at reacting to threats that they cannot see. When there are opposing information sources, one saying to worry, change will happen, the other saying not to worry, one wants to believe the voice of inertia. But the time has come to act, and get that fast train to DC.

Song of the Earth in Weimar

In 1905, having just been expelled from his position as court composer in Vienna, discovering his heart failure, and grieving the loss of his daughter, Gustav Mahler put the poems of Hans Bethge to his signature sound, creating one of the great pieces of modern music, and musically anticipating the turmoil soon to engulf the world.

Multi-media projects in their best iterations magnify the good of each of the component media, just as Mahler's music enhances the words of Bethge. Das Lied von der Erde was created during the apocalyptic collision of the historic narratives of Europe. Juxtaposing lyrical images of the detritus of our consumption with Das Lied von Der Erde is a natural fit for the creation of a larger work to address these modern issues.

Creating a multi-media piece involves interweaving multiple narratives, which sometimes speak to each other, and otherwise tell their own stories. Here was an opportunity for my work to reach a completely new audience, one that was largely unexposed to this message about the looming disasters that face us, and our causal behavior.

So many times a magic idea needs just the one person that “gets it” and makes it happen, seemingly with the snap of the fingers. In this case, that person was Stefan Solyom, conductor of the Weimar Staatskapelle. Then arise the complexities of actually executing a simple idea. The visual animation of the Industrial Scars images was redacted by Joel Plotch, done with an old recording by Bruno Walter and the Vienna Philharmonic to set the meter, a recording Stefan and I had agreed was our favorite.

What a foolish assumption to think that all would go according to plan. The two soloists, of course, had their own interpretation of the proper tempo, and it did not match that of Bruno Walter. The tenor, Andreas Conrad, preferred a much faster rendition, and the soprano Tuija Knihtilä, slower. So there I was, dripping sweat in the dress rehearsal as my masterpiece seemed about to crash and burn. With a deep breath, the idea of continuously adjusting the video playback rate to keep time with the music was the obvious solution, albeit one requiring intense concentration, especially not being a German speaker.

Ultimately, the performance was breath-taking - the projection of Industrial Scars images in HD over the heads of the orchestra was a transformative experience (at least for me).

Partners

No battles are fought alone, least of all mine. Aside from the fantastic team that works with me on a daily basis, there are the resource partners, and the project-specific partners. In the former category are the environmental groups, engineers, scientists, and lawyers that give me background and breaking developments on the various issues on which I'm working. So much of my work depends on information: technical details about the industries and the specific public health issues related to each, and changes in technologies that affect them. There are images for which there is no explanation, which leads to a mystery needing diagnosis, and others for which the obvious explanation does not quite fit. And there are the legislative angles: looming battles in which the friends of polluting industries are subversively working to enact or repeal laws for special interests that will significantly undermine public health.

Some of the most important partners are the pilots that volunteer their time, expertise, and equipment, most notably SouthWings, LightHawk, and Motorfluggruppe Grenzland. Recently, after an exhibit in Amsterdam, a Dutchman named Leo Westerkamp called asking if there might not be a project for which he would be essential. As Germany was next on the itinerary, a revisit to the giant open-pit brown coal mines at Garzweiler seemed to be in order.

So many have questioned my grip on the slippery concept called reality, that it's rare for me to doubt another's grip must mean they are in an extreme. Leo flies a kite. With a big fan. In the winter. Somehow I let him talk me into it.

I had to run from my exhibit at Flo Peters Gallery back down to Nürnberg to teach at Städtische Berufsoberschule für Sozialwesen, and we agreed that I would then train it up to Dormagen where he would meet me. On the internet I located rooms at Nikolaus Kloster for a reasonable rate where we were blessed by the Pater. The next morning broke clear and blue, but a little windy. Turns out the kite can only fly in very still air. So we spent much of the day driving around through the ghost towns slated for demolition prior to removal from existence for access to the coal below.

This woman was one of the last residents of Frimmersdorf, but in true German pride, was still sweeping the street in front of her house. Finally, the wind subsided enough to allow flight, but only for an hour plus before sunset.

On each flight, I usually find at least one answer, and in this case it was the disposal of the ash from the trio of power plants fed by the mine. Regular readers of this rant (and other properly concerned citizens) know too well about coal ash and its threats to our health.

As I suspected, the lovely power provider in question is dumping it right back in the mine, unlined from the water table, thus allowing the lead, arsenic, uranium mercury, selenium et al found therein to leach into the groundwater. Glad I don't live near there.

When doing these projects, the faithful, ancient GPS always accompanies, and a quick mark of the point of departure seems a sensible precaution. Nothing like a trail of bread crumbs. As the sun was setting and the cold intolerable, I called for home, and Leo averred that he had it under control. In good faith, I allowed him to set the direction, but always the dubious, I cast a glance at my bread crumbs, which oddly went the other way. Upon query, Leo assured me all was under control, but when the mine appeared through the haze in front of us, I knew that my suspicions, though founded on crumbs, were credible. Visions of spending the night in some field huddled next to Leo, wrapped up in his giant kite were not comforting. Fortunately, Mr. Magellan, old as he is, guided us straight back to the air field, though I could hardly get off the kite when we finally bumped to a halt.

Reflections on A Concentration Camp

I'm visiting Auschwitz with a friend whose father survived the horror to move to the USA and start a new life, after which my friend was born. He has felt a need to connect with this part of his history, and I, as one who is so often disconnected from my personal history, am glad to accompany him.
Of course, as modern Americans, most of us have known no real hardship: our parents lived through the Depression, and though the recent unpleasantness has been just that for many of us, those who are really impacted are out of sight.

Krakow is the closest major city, so we base ourselves there.
It is one of the most beautiful, preserved, and vibrant cities I have seen. The Poles have been abused, traded back and forth, and almost seemingly forgotten. But they have produced some of the greatest intellectuals, artists, and scientists the world has known; one need only mention Chopin.

In touring the camp, I can't help but be bombarded by multiple thoughts: how could people do this to each other? How could one person do that to another person? What is modern Germany's relation to what happened here? And then there are more prosaic thoughts as an artist and journalist: What remains of what was here? Should this place be declared off limits due to the fact that we are literally walking on the ashes of thousands of people? Can we learn the proper lessons from this place?

Entrance of camp: "Work Makes You Free"





The Nazis attempted to destroy much of Auschwitz once it was clear the jig was up for them. And the Poles built up the museum in the 50's, and of course any restoration is not the same as the original. Millions of people have passed through this place since, and they have all left their mark. I found myself looking for original things to photograph: manhole covers, locks, rusted hinges that looked of the period, the chimneys that remained from the destroyed bunkhouses. Some of the interesting things that I wanted to photograph (and did) seem suspiciously as if they might be relics of the tourists, not prisoners: ashes in the heating stoves, graffiti scratched in to the plaster walls.


Prosthetic limbs stolen from Jewish prisoners

It's well known that regular people can perform heinous acts on their fellows, especially when told to do so by a superior. And the greater the “us/them” dichotomy, the easier it is for an individual to justify, witness “gooks.” I have many German friends (admittedly, most are intellectuals); they all carry a burden of guilt from the Nazi days. That said, we have all read about the resurgence of Nazism, especially in the East.

Mostly, I reflect on the meaning to myself and my country. While Germans have undergone deep soul-searching due to this horror, I do not sense the same at home where we have perpetrated our own abominations. Let's begin with the treatment of the first Americans: willful, methodical slaughter, genocide, and theft of their lands. Then of course one thinks of the slavery issue, primarily associated with the South. But these are nightmares far in the past, and not likely to be dredged up for consideration. On the other hand, our contemplation of Vietnam rarely, if ever goes beyond the domestic impacts of “The American War,” yet estimates of the number of dead range from 1.5 to over 3 million. Our application of hebicide defoliants alone fills me with horror. According to Wikipedia, the USA sprayed 12% of the total land area of South Vietnam at concentrations far greater than the “manufacturer's suggested application.” We targeted food crops, causing mass starvation and population migrations, and poisoning the entire ecosystem to this day. The effects persist to the present. I have been there and have seen the birth defects in the present population. Interestingly, I did not encounter any animosity.

Then there are our current wars: It's a safe guess that over a million Iraqi civilians have been killed in our foray, maybe 25,000 in Afghanistan. Civilians. But we will never know. And we don't seem to care.
And we haven't even discussed our torture policies which continue to this day.
Land of the free, home of the brave?

Exposition at Spedition

12 May 2010

I knew Bremen as a town of beer. So, when asked to do an exhibit and symposium there, the answer could only be yes. Preparation for a large production in a foreign land is always stressful, and this one was par, but methodical and successful. Arrival to find the venue in some disarray from a previous production, but not worryingly so; and the combination of good preparation and a crack production team at the “Spedition” led to an under-budget, ahead-of-schedule event, thus allowing for final interviews, exhibit catalog production, etc.

Locomotive Turntable at Bremen Station

Spedition is an old industrial space, adjacent to the train station, which has attracted a variety of artists and crafts people, being home to exhibits, music, and theater productions and in this case, a symposium with students. The German alt culture has always been fascinating, and it’s not surprising that the society which produced Mozart, Durer, Marx, and Freud would produce some interesting unorthodoxes. Spedition is a wonderful fusion of these people, living and working in this large reused complex in the center of town, contiguous with the train station, that has become the edgy cultural space in Bremen.

Planning and preparation for this production have been proceeding for years, with Nicolai Burchartz of Koeln and Gregor Straube of Bremen doing the heavy lifting.

The mission was to put up a show of new work, all large murals, themed “What happens because of the things we buy.” The exciting new aspect of this exhibit was the inclusion of an interactive component that explains each mural with maps, satellite images, establishing shots, and information. These pictures can be seen on so many levels: aesthetic, documentary, political, that viewers demand explanation, and providing that information is a challenging enterprise. Working with several classes of German high school students would explore the cross-cultural impact of the images and the interactive program.

Gregor Straube, Senator Reinhard Loske, & JHF

The team at Spedition was relaxed, efficient, and thorough, so the exhibit went up like a balloon and looked fantastic, done in the unique “Spedition style.” The vernissage was quite the success in spite of the rain, boasting the senator of the environment, among many.

Talking to the students from the Wilhelm Wagenfeld School, and the other people passing through was the most rewarding part. The students were thoughtful, aware and curious, and gratifyingly intrigued with the interactive.

Environmental issues are making the world a frighteningly small place, and these teenagers would be the ones to bear the first major impacts. As estimates of the volume of oil spilled in the Gulf had grown too large for the brain to grasp, we discussed the root causes.

Middle Europe is colder than normal, and many Germans bemoaned the cold and rain. One wonders if the weather is the result of the volcano or other weather pattern alterations.

The Starbucks in DeGaulle Airport is surrounded with large backlit images, most of beautiful exotic animals, the others of beautiful exotic women in beautiful exotic vacation spots.

Meanwhile, the waste generated by just this one small franchise in one airport defies comprehension. The Starbucks in Köln/Bonn Airport at least offers the option of using china mugs, thus saving a good bit of paper cup waste…

Of course, the intrepid eco traveler never goes anywhere without his own air-tight mug that goes right in the bag. And who would throw away a good cup of java just for security, knowing the cost?

Up the Lazy River

5 May 2010

The Ruhr River area is one of the oldest and most concentrated industrial areas of the world. It has been the hub of German industry, and the foundry of their might, both military and economic. Concurrently, it is one of the oldest toxic areas in the world, and the patient reader knows of this writer’s fascination with such things. Having photographed other environmental issues in Germany over the years, a compulsion to study the Ruhr became stronger with the passage of time, and so arrangements were made for the lovely German spring of this year. As most people might know, gambling on bluebird days in middle Germany is like betting on the good sense of the American voter, but one must have faith, and so I found myself at a small airfield on the border with Holland, shaking hands with a taciturn expat Brit pilot.

WDR, the Deutsche television station was interested in documenting the process, so as Mark and I chatted about the flight plan, Cordula and Jurgen attached cameras to the struts of the plane.

After many takes of "spontaneous" greetings between Mark and me, we finally took off for real and headed toward Duisburg, one of the most industrial German cities. The industry there seems like a vision from a world gone mad, and perhaps it is. Beauty and nightmare intersperse so fast one forgets the difference, and the smokestacks and heat from the industry make flying and photographing difficult. Mark and I had a fantastic communication, though, and rarely did I even need to give directions as we swooped around cooling towers in our search for pandora’s secrets. Germany is generally better about containing contamination than the USA, but some things cannot be occulted, and my old friend coal ash is one of those. Every coal-fired power plant produces quite a lot of it (about 325,000 tons a year in the USA, probably more in Germany as they burn a lot of brown coal and it is nasty stuff (see previous posts.) We found it in spades, and Mark did an excellent job putting me where I needed to be. Very interesting the absence of TSA obsession here; in the land of the free (note the sarcasm) the TSA, police, FBI, and various other enforcers of the regime are all over you if you look twice at a power plant (or even photograph a public building for that matter), whereas here, nothing is said.

Germany has opted out of the nuclear game (though that is being unfortunately reconsidered) and is heavily reliant on coal like the USA. Meanwhile, there are these powerful rivers taking energy down to the sea that could easily light all of the cities in the area. And of course the German energy giants are digging up the country, displacing thousands of citizens, razing towns, and releasing tons of carbon, all to power their digging machines and light the bulbs of middle Europe.

As I write, the USA EPA has just released revised "suggestions" about coal ash. In an unsurprising Orwellian development, this toxic waste of the coal combustion process will continue to be "beneficially reused" in sheetrock, fertilizer, paint, carpet, etc. The list of ways how this toxic waste finds its way into your life goes on. Did i forget to mention that it is laden with lead, mercury, uranium, arsenic, cadmium and more?
Can we get smart about this?

climate Climate CLIMATE

3 November 2009

Germany's Chancellor Merkel is speaking to both houses of the US congress today in an exhortation for the USA to move on climate change. Talk about rain on the ocean, she will be lucky to get a polite hearing. The US congress is so indebted to the hydro-carbon lobby that our chances for substance from that consensus club are negligent. We the people must demand representation. Turn off your lights in support of action on climate change

Morning Haze shrouds a coal-fired power plant outside Baton Rouge, LA

ENDLESS RAIN

28 October 2009

Rain again. Wasn’t it just raining? Hasn’t it rained all summer?
And the snow. What happened to snow up to our waists? I remember when New York was shut down with deep snow every winter. Now all we get is freezing rain. You may not mind, but I want my snow back. Same thing in Germany: "yes, now that you mention it, I remember when it used to snow in Koeln." The winter snow is what we drink in the spring and summer, btw. What if we all did something about it today? And tomorrow.

BERLIN - Part II

August 15, 2008


So often in doing my aerial shoots, I have no previous specific knowledge of my subject matter. Research on the images typically follows each shoot. In this case, I had three experts with me who were able to tell me all of the particulars, for which I am always so hungry. Our pilot, Michael Hanke, specializes in flying humanitarian and environmental expeditions. He is a sure-handed pilot who does his job so well that one could almost think he looks careless; Karsten Smid is a Greenpeace energy expert on brown coal issues, particularly as it relates to these locations; finally, the writer from the Taz, Nick Rymer, worked in a factory directly in the region of the mines and power plants and has a personal inside knowledge of these places.

We headed south from Berlin to the Lausitz/Cottbus mining site. The extent of the devastation in this area is amazing. That we humans could so heedlessly destroy such vast areas is audacious. The impact is all-encompassing, from the displacement of local populations to the massive carbon emissions (some of the plants we saw were among the largest carbon emitters in Europe).


Let’s not forget the inefficiency of lignite; such a poor energy source that it’s only worth mining if it’s burned directly where it is mined. Hurrah for the Berliners who are taking a stance against the burning of lignite by specifying that they want to purchase power from “green” sources, a movement only in the nascent stage in the USA. Burning coal is completely crazy. The rant begins by noting that there are myriad options without the consequences that accompany lignite, which are too many to list, but a few include: largest single cause of global warming and acid rain, greatest cause of mercury in the environment (meaning the fish we eat), single main producer of radioactive material released into the air and water. This just begins the list of reasons why mining and burning lignite make absolutely no sense. The only reason why we continue this ridiculous practice is that a few people are making a lot of money, as they are burning our future in the process. End rant.

Soon, the devastation at Janschwalde comes into view. I will admit that my head was nodding as I had only slept about 4 hours in the last 30, but the looming subject brought me back to life. These areas are vast, and we are inured to it because of our jaded media overload. Imagine if you were forced to move from your house so someone could burn the ground underneath it to make a lot of money and pollute the planet. The operations are owned and run by a Swedish company forbidden from coal operations at home, but happy to do it in these outback regions of old East Germany. Is it true that one of the chief executives of the company is the “climate advisor” to the reigning government? The operations are enormous, and efficient in the typical German way. Machines the size of which you can’t imagine move volumes of earth from one place to another to expose the layers of coal so different machines can scoop the coal onto a conveyor where it goes to be burned. All of this is powered by electricity, so in some sense this is just a machine devouring the earth to feed itself.

I will admit to a fascination with these machines, the largest built by humans, ironically contributing to our own destruction. They have a beauty of elemental function that makes them art in a certain way.

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The machine that actually digs the coal is rather small compared to the rest, and sits at the bottom of this tremendous moving trench. Most of my images are of the machines that move the “overburden,” and of course, the abstractions of the devoured earth, which only I can seem to capture. The final waste products (in this case, ashes and smoke) are always things I seek, and as usual, they are illuminating. Interactions of industrial nightmares with groundwater or the water table are a story worth telling in all cases, and here especially. Of course I am a visual artist, so the story I look to tell is a visual one. I can research the facts behind the storyline, but the goal here is citizen participation. We must all drink the water and breathe the air.

We find a place where the ashes are pumped into a gulch, mixing with the surface water to produce a beautiful, nightmarish lake with patterns of flow and color variations. I have the pilot circle repeatedly, certain that the scientists and reporters are convinced of my insanity…

BERLIN - Part I

July 28, 2008

When the ifa-Galerie asked me to participate in the upcoming exhibit, “Nature–Living at the Edge,” I knew it was perfect for Industrial Scars. So, I proposed that we include one of the Industrial Scars symposia as part of the program, which the gallery embraced enthusiastically.



The point of the project is to present people with enthralling images of industrial nightmares, “the consequences of our consumption,” that will serve to inspire reflections on the impact of the euros we spend and the effects our spending will have on our grandchildren. The symposium project has turned in to a vehicle to establish dialog between audience and artist, and, ideally includes a local component, in the form of an aerial photo shoot of nearby environmental damage that is affecting the lives of the residents. Of course, the mining of brown coal (lignite) is the first thing that comes to mind when brainstorming environmental issues around Berlin, so I proceeded to research and map the possibilities. Lignite is an environmental disaster; its mining devastates large areas - entire towns are moved by the powerful conglomerate of industry and government with little regard for the displaced populations. Lignite itself has so little energy value that it’s only worth digging up if it’s burned on the spot. Therefore, tremendous power plants are constructed in the middle of the mines. Aside from the other contaminants produced (only some of which can be filtered), the carbon output is huge.

Having photographed the mines near Koeln, I was interested to see the different techniques used in Cottbus (just south of Berlin).

These photo expeditions require tremendous research and preparation, so we began with preparations forthwith: producing and shipping the images for the exhibit, and organizing the logistics of an aerial shoot.

Too soon the departure date was upon us, and for once I arrived at JFK airport with plenty of time, only to discover I had forgotten my passport. There had been some thunderstorms that day, so there was some hope I could race back in to the city and get it. Sure enough, a call to Delta uncovered the fact that the flight was delayed, and I made it back to the airport in time to check-in, only to wait through a variety of Delta excuses for the continued delay of the flight. As the hours passed, the other passengers became increasingly angry; I, on the other hand, have decided that in this life there are too many things to bring stress, and it kills. Finally, 7 hours after scheduled departure, Delta cancelled the flight at 2 AM, leaving everyone stranded at the airport. I hailed a taxi and went back to the city for a few hours of sleep.

Having another day of work is always a good thing, in this case especially, as the Berlin newspaper, The Taz, was interested in a feature story and needed a large selection of images. I was able to send those along, and decided I would take the low-carbon transport to the airport this time. As I condemn Delta, I praise the NYC transit system with its new train to JFK, which takes about the same time as a taxi, at a fraction of the financial and environmental cost.

As the direct flight to Berlin was booked, I was put on a connection through Paris, which arrived in Berlin just in time for me to race to the small airport in Strausberg, from which we would do our aerial flight. Interesting the legacies of the past that affect our lives: this was an old Cold War landing strip in East Germany… so many resources squandered on our militaristic posturing in the superpower arms race.

More to follow…