When exploring a new medium, my tendency is to compare it to known territory, maybe to have some ideas in mind about what’s possible, what would be interesting, to desire control over chaos. For Carbon Garden, our research took the form of visits to botanical gardens, conservatory of flowers, nature walks, science museums, and lots of google image searches for flowers of all varieties. Next came classes in carbon fiber layup, interviews of everyone and anyone who had worked with it before, and of course YouTube video searches like the one about making carbon fiber cellos.
As we started experimenting with the medium itself, a vast array of uncharted territory began to evidence itself: epoxy type, cure time and temperature, carbon fabric weave and weight, mold release whether peel ply, spray, wax or mylar. Any different combination of these possibilities would lead to very different results, most of them very unflower-like. Plus it’s difficult, time consuming and quite expensive to just play around with these materials. You’d think, contact the experts, they’ll know what to do. But even people who make many strong and beautiful structures from carbon fiber usually aren’t making things enough like ours to say exactly what we should do.
Little by little we’ve edged our way toward a satisfying petal building technique including compound curves, surface details, reasonable strength, and impressively, a smooth matte finish with that beautiful grain looking sharp on both sides. So good, we have successfully gained control over a wily new medium. The problem is we have not let it breathe.
What I mean is that in our desire to master our technique with this material, we forgot to ask the question, “What does the carbon fiber want?” I mean this in no sappy anthropomorphic way, and no I haven’t been sniffing the epoxy (on purpose). As I have come to play with this black fabric that wets out to a stretchy skin with its own qualities and behaviors, little intimations of its own nature have surfaced.
I now see that the frayed edges I had thoroughly taped and held together, when laid up with epoxy turn into delicate plantlike spines. I now see that techniques more akin to clothing design work to build three dimensional self-wrapping structures, like black hole models of space-time. The bizarre and quirky qualities of this medium are starting to express themselves, and tell us what kind of art to make.
A handheld carbon fiber black hole.
I don’t know where exactly this will lead, but I’m shedding my preconceived notions and allowing the medium to show me. My failure will only be not to listen closely enough to what it’s saying. And if I’m lucky when it’s quiet I hope to become close enough friends that it’s willing to share its deepest secrets.
Electric Daisy Carnival
Sand by the Ton
Fire Arts Festival
Burning Man
Burning Man
