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LANDSCAPE & ARTS NETWORK online JOURNAL No. 42 September 2007

EDITORIAL Let Them Eat Cars The ice is melting ever faster; China and India are set on becoming America as fast as possible; Aus-tralia still seems lost in a dream of lawns and sprinklers as salination marches inland and the Murray River system teeters on the edge of collapse. What can we do - well, all those plastic bags are bad you know and we must stop leaving the com-puter on standby while we are holidaying abroad. Seriously though, the basic thrust of government policy seems to be how can we find sort of greenish ways to sustain the present economic and social lifestyle and population density that has created this problem. The age of oil draws to an end after about 250 years. It replaced the age of wood which sustained us while we were in the trees and for millennia afterwards. We forget our current global civilization is exceptionally fragile and unsustain-able in the long term (although a century is hardly long term and that itself is seeming optimistic as the evidence mounts day by day). What should we and the government be doing? Planning and organizing now for a post-oil way of life. Serious far-reaching change is inevitable with irreversible tipping points not far off. What we need, to quote Duncan Law, is “ a tipping point in consciousness” . One of the few people who has attempted to confront, accept and take action on a large scale is Rob Cook and his Energy Descent Pathways Programme. Have a look at www.transitionculture.org there is also a link to Duncan Law”s YouTube film, Another End of the World is Possible. Also www.energyBulletin.net for the latest round-the-world digests and references. Interestingly enough, the Lib Dems’ policy document is the only publication by a major political party that really seems to have engaged with the realities of the situation. www.libdems.org.uk/media/documents/policies/zerocarbon.pdf So what can we do - read, learn, organize, act, share - I’d like to hear from members what they are thinking and doing about all this. Coming back to Martin Spray and the polar bears – I honestly think it is too late for the bears - I hope I’m wrong. Their summer ice, it seems, will soon be a thing of the past, making food-finding almost impossible. Recently Jeremy Clarkson was seen on TV tri-umphantly conquering polar wastes in a four-wheel drive. Oh well then – Let Them Eat Cars!

Jeff Higley

Contents Page 2 Tate Modern Com-munity Garden By Tam Giles Page 8 Slow Making By Jane Frost Page 19 Site Dance Site Music By Isabel Jones Page 22 YSP Event By Bobbie Millar Page 25 The Diver By Jeff Higley Page 27 Book Reviews

Landscape & Arts online The Journal of the Landscape & Arts Network

Number 42 September 2007


A small sliver of land lies at the eastern end of Tate Modern’s r iver fo recour t . Bounded on its other sides by high walls, and overlooked by office blocks and riv-erside residences, nevertheless within it is a small miracle: a wildlife garden with flowers, shrubs, fruit trees, a pond trav-ersed by a planked path, birds and bees, butterflies and dam-selflies. There are in-viting benches and a shelter from showers or hot sun. And re-minders of the past: a labyrinth whose path is defined by red tile fragments gath-ered from the Thames river bed at low tide and other fragments which are ar-ranged in roundel reliefs. The Labyrinth resonates: it is an an-cient symbol of spiritual significance and ritual. It bids us pace its path and as we do so, we share our present with our ances-tors’ past. But this Garden was not made by a miracle. When Southwark Council agreed to the old Bankside power station becoming the centre for promoting and displaying modern art, it stipulated that at some future date the Tate Directors should provide a pri-vate garden for use of the local community. It was to be a spe-cial place for themselves only, away from the anticipated crowds of art lovers who would come to swell the numbers of tourists already attracted by the Globe Theatre, coffee shops, the Thames pathway, and the Millennium Bridge. It would be a collaborative project, to be undertaken by a partnership be-tween the Tate Modern and Bankside Open Spaces trust. A Steering Committee of local residents, BOST representatives

Tate Modern Community Garden, Bankside

By Tam Giles

Already wild life was being attracted to the garden that

offered them a sanctuary in the

midst of the surrounding bustle.

Tate Modern Community Garden June 2007 photo Arthur DeMowbray


and staff from the Tate’s outreach program was appointed. Garden designer Lucy Williams was asked to draw up the design and work started in 2004. Workshops were organised. Residents shared memories of gardens, the scents, the senses, -what they wanted to experience in their garden. Children studied Labyrinths and drew them. Other local or-ganisations were contacted for contributions in kind or cash. Local residents volunteered to help clear the land then plant. Groups for-aged the foreshore collecting, selecting and discovering 8,000 years of the rich heritage revealed by their findings. Finally, the opening ceremony was held on June 20th 2007; Sir Nicholas Serota gave the welcoming speech, Edith Slee cut the ribbon and gave an eloquent speech outlining the vision for this private plot of land, and its emerging qualities during development. Already wild life was being attracted to the garden that offered them a sanctuary in the midst of the surrounding bustle. For children it will be a safe place for play and discovery, and for all, somewhere to pause, to forget for a mo-ment daily preoccupations, allow time for their senses to reatune to the world of nature. Members of LAN contribute to the project Edith Slee is a member of LAN and also lives near the site. Her vi-sion became a driving force to get the project ‘Tate Community Gar-den’ moving. She also cherished the wish to make a labyrinth in the garden but had no experience of making a large mosaic on the ground. She approached me in 2006 to ask if I would be able to help. I had been hoping to make a labyrinth ever since many years earlier I had seen the large one in Chartres Cathedral and had then

learnt of their ancient line-age and spiritual signifi-cance. I was delighted to accept. But the space allo-cated in the design was 5m diameter. A mosaic of that size involves a lot of hard work and each op-eration is best done in one session, well beyond one or even two pairs of hands. So we asked Jane Higginbottom to join us. Jane has had a lot more mosaic making experience than me; I felt that to-gether we could be sure of a satisfactory result. But first a substantial base of hardcore and concrete, slightly domed to ensure water run-off, would be needed. As the mosaic pe-Spontaneous celebratory run at Tate Modern Community Workshop .

Photo Tam Giles


rimeter was to lie flush with the path, the ground had first to be dug out. For all this we needed Arthur de Mowbray’s skills. While carrying out this work he met Peter Graal, of BOST, who was the general project man-ager. Peter was already familiar with Ar-thur’s work on other projects in Southwark. He liked Arthur’s woodworking techniques and asked him to make some of the furni-ture. Thus it was that first one and then three more LAN members were involved. Making the mosaic The Steering Committee decided to use red tile fragments foraged from the Thames foreshore to mark the pattern. Foraging days were set up by the Tate Modern co-ordinator, Synthia Griffen, assistant Educa-tion Curator. She was throughout hugely en-thusiastic and encouraging, and gave up her time to go on the foraging expeditions. The Committee selected a sample of manufactur-ers’ river pebbles for the path. Four stages First a grid of square metres was marked on the concrete base. A drawing selected from many made by local children was gridded to scale then transferred to the base and marked with spray paint. Lengths of mosaic mesh 1m x 2m were laid on the base and the labyrinth pattern traced on to them, each section being numbered and coded at junctions. Synthia ar-ranged a Saturday community workshop day at Tate Modern. It was attended by large numbers of local residents and their chil-dren. By the end of the day, all sections of mesh with red tiles glued to the lines were laid out on the floor and without a mo-ment’s hesitation children ran onto them and raced round the paths. It was also at this workshop that many foraged frag-ments other than the red tiles were set into cement roundels to be set up later on the garden walls. The third and fourth stages were on site, first the mesh and red tiles were glued in place on the base drawing. After a few days’ setting time, and cutting away the superfluous mesh, sections of mosaic river pebble tiles were fitted and glued to the paths. Finally the whole mo-saic had to be grouted using frost and water proof grout. There was a depth of approximately 2.5 cms to be filled with grout. This was very hard work! –including shuttling between site and a local Topps for Tiles for ever more sacks of grout. Luckily we had many volunteer helpers, excellent weather, and could enjoy the generous catering from the Tate staff canteen.

Final Grouting of Labyrinth Photo Tam Giles

So far as possible he likes to work with

green wood and know the provenance of the

felled trees he uses


The shelter and furniture. The charity Riverwood provided some of the benches and pergola which are made out of driftwood. The shelter, the benches beside the Labyrinth, the raised planters and rubbish bin were made by Ar-thur de Mowbray. Arthur has built up a number of contacts with people in tree man-

agement who inform him when trees certi-fied by the Forest Stewards Council will be available for recy-cling. So far as possi-ble he likes to work with green wood and know the provenance of the felled trees he uses. He learned through his connec-tions that a giant se-quoia had died in Rei-gate and had to be felled. The benches beside the Labyrinth were hewed from its massive red-tannin stained trunk; the col-our blends with the Labyrinth tiles: surely this is a good way to remember a noble

tree. He was also advised that some larches from Cowdray Park were available. From these he cut, planed, and steam-bent the tim-bers in his workshop then assembled the complete shelter on site. Cowdray larch also formed the raised planters, arch, and rubbish bin. All structures were fastened using copper boat rivets.

Some weeks after the opening, on a Saturday when at last the sun shone on London after weeks of wet windy weather I elbowed my way through throngs enjoying Bankside, reaching at last the peace of the garden. I made for a bench intend-ing to begin this writing and paused on my way to watch the dragonflies and water boatmen. I noticed some goldfish babies. Another visitor en-tered and stopped beside me to look at them. He said how much he enjoyed the tranquillity of the gar-den. He was working at the Globe. His voice betrayed an actor and later, I caught glimpses of gesticu-lating hands and occasionally a face from where he was tucked behind a

Arthur de Mowbray constructing shelter Photo Tam Giles

Feeding body and soul Photo Tam Giles


wall; rehearsing obviously. Then later another visitor: this one had come to enjoy a quiet read. ‘This garden’, she said, ‘is an oasis’. As I wrote, a dragonfly landed on my writing block, its abdomen the colour of burnished copper. A fritillary landed on a nearby flagstone, stretching its wings to recharge its solar batteries. Most birds rest during noon hours but a solitary dove rummaged in the bushes and insects busied themselves among the flowers. The textures and col-ours: tall straight reeds, graceful vines and higgledy piggeldy budd-leia, the soft grasses and meadow flowers, fruiting trees, ripening persimmons in bright red clusters. And memories, tied to branches as if for plant identification, from people who helped create the gar-den. A jarring noise intruded: a helicopter circled above, then to my relief it departed, and peace returned. I thought, how well the gar-den muffles all but the most intrusive of the ambient city cacophony.

Relief Roundel using fragments from Thames foreshore Photo Tam Giles


Two days later and a mile or so south of the Tate Garden I was looking into another beautiful community garden. I could see raised planters among grassland, fruit trees, benches, sunflowers and gar-

den vegetables. This is the ‘Heart Garden’ in Burgess Park, and is part of a complex of gardens, Georgian houses, a primary school and studios of ‘Art in the Park‘. It is only open to the general public on Fridays; otherwise it is for the local community, particularly the disabled, to learn to grow vegetables. Jane Higginbottom works here every Friday overseeing light therapeutic gardening, small creative activities and occasional ‘memory sharing’ hours. It oc-curred to me both these projects are a million miles from what are called, ‘The Art World’ and ‘Public Gardens’. It is clearly an over simplification to say that in those two, ‘Nature’ is seen as ‘other’, something to be looked at rather than as something we are part of. But now with 50% of the world’s population living in cities (see Tate Modern Global Cities exhibition) there is room for more acknowl-edgement of the sort of work being done in cities by practitioners of all the creative arts to help local urbanites to re-enter into direct dialogue with and experience of, the natural world, a small attempt at reintegration instead of alienation. I am proud of LAN members’ contribution to both these gardens.

Dancing on the Labyrinth Tate Modern Community garden opening Photo Jane Higginbottom


Can I say that I am this labour that I perform with my hands,

yet which eludes me not only when I have finished it

but even before I have begun it?

Michel Foucault ‘ The order of things’

Physical action, manipulation and experience of materiality are the way I have learned about things in the world. This journey and conversation started with the aim of exploring the alter-native to the frantic production, marketing and promotion of art that is made, exhibited or owned in an attempt to express something other than the every day experience. The ‘something’ that many artists spend their lives striving to communicate. Although written from a very personal viewpoint this exploration has contributions from several voices, a combination of spoken and written words with relationships and images as it’s starting point.

Slow Making

An exploration into a sustainable approach and pace of work

By Jane Frost

Slow Making photo Jane Frost


I have been weaving, spinning and stitching for many years as a maker, as an artist tried to communicate through my making. The rushing mentality is so in-grained that I have found it almost impossible to break away and use time as a real, understandable resource. Making work for the Moscow Biennale involved a combination of frantic activity and travel and I questioned the value of art made for these events. The action of making work for ‘Fair Trade - Material Matters’ where the relational and envi-ronmental considerations gained significance over conventional aesthetic that non-relational artwork does not demonstrate. The drawings, exchanges and con-nections made have become relationships and are ongoing. Ten years ago I started to spend time on my allotment, using it as a place of healing from post-viral fatigue. Using the seasons, growing willow and interac-tion with other allotment holders I made work about community and environ-ment but the term ‘Slow Making’ did not occur until this year, when recovering from pneumonia I was forced to stop the frantic activity that had again become habit. I stopped making, sat and looked at the water, the ground and plants where I grow willow to work with. I looked at, listened to and felt my raw mate-rials take shape. I took in the pace of my allotment and looked for a way to ex-press that. I sat down and started a new approach towards places, people and things. Slow Making is not only about the time it takes for an individual to con-struct an artwork, slow in this context is about the relationships and places the maker and the work will be found and the processes used. The time it takes to develop skills and relationships have a lot in common, including relationships with the non-human world. Slow Making is relationship and action, alive to the environmental effects of the source, process and use of materials.

Thorns photo Jane Frost


My journey has been an un-ravelling and sometimes an un-learning of techniques and assumptions concerning the spinning, weaving and stitching, to come back to the basic materiality and substance of my practice as an artist. I am now at the beginning of a ‘slow making’ journey, a more healthy way of working at a pace that is sustainable.

Starting from the point of not wanting to be an artist that produced ‘stuff’ for the sake of it; I find I have come almost full circle, arriving back at the same point, but now with a new perspective of what it means to make. I now do want to make stuff, but only to make things that are considered, have matured and above all have a real context in a real world.

I have not found a definition of Slow Making already in use and so have been de-veloping a definition, using online as well as face-to-face conversations and workshops run on my allotment and in Wisbech Park. However there is no rush or urgency in this process and I anticipate seeing a full definition evolve over a period of time.

Slow Making

Finding the pace of relationships and making

I scan self-portraits drawn by Russian artists I have not met and transfer them into stitch.

I create relationships by placing them onto a blanket and a web-site. People, places and materials brought together physically and on the internet. The proc-ess is a combination of construction, collaboration and negotiation.

I sit stitching and wonder how long it has taken me to learn that it is possible to manipulate yarn in this way. Using fine wool yarn dyed with woad grown and processed in Norfolk, into blankets either given or found in charity shops. The blankets have had a life before I own them, have had close contact with peo-ple’s bodies and lives. The labels provide clues about the source of the original wool yarn, ‘Guaranteed all lambs wool’ where they were made, Yorkshire, Dor-set, Oxfordshire, Essex and the history. One has the label “National Price Con-trolled 36/-” which means it was made just after the 2nd world war in England.

How did I find out that yarn and cloth can express the elemental and global? That spun yarn and woven cloth links people and places, that they are interde-pendent and can either enhance or destroy communities and environments.

I remember sitting next to my grandmother, the shape of her profile, smooth fingertips and arthritic joints, worn from years of work. First in the woollen mills of Yorkshire, then bringing up five boys and providing clothes for them, stitching, knitting, crochet, ‘making do’. I have a strong memory of her knitting a pair of socks, one inside the other. Holding one ball of wool in a pocket of her apron, one inside the knitting and alternate stitches made from each ball of yarn, the magic of producing one sock from inside the other. Playing next to


her, winding, knotting, trying to knit the wool and after many attempts of dropped stitches, finally being able to construct a series of stitches which would become a doll’s scarf or a cushion cover. The shop-ping trip to the market, choosing the right yarn for the job and learning the words that go with wool: hank, ply, ca-ble, gauge. The smell of wool with lano-lin still in, the smell of wet wool, the fin-ished items hanging on the line strung outside across the yard between terraced houses. The relationships with people in the yard; as a child it all seemed to me to be part of her making the work suc-cessful.

Alongside this she told stories about the processes of how the wool became thread and then on huge noisy mills be-came thousands of miles of cloth to be sent to all countries of the world. Some-how she seemed to know something about all those countries. The cloth gave her a link to people and places all over the world, gave her a way of understand-ing people she could never expect to meet. I can also remember her almost daily trips to the local library; reading was a life-line, both grounding and giving escape from a hard life to dream of all the places which were physically unobtain-able. She encouraged me to go anywhere I wanted, and not to be limited to staying in one place. It was almost a duty to do this, to bring back stories of my own and have exchanges through the materials I chose to explore, what-ever they may be.

Did I learn that the world was made of linked people and places then or 46 years later, in a completely different situation, when I first heard the word glocal. Is that when my grandmother’s stories became clear and understand-able?

Environment, materials and process

I start to pick up a new strand of willow bark, stripped from the branch of a tree that I have grown from a cutting taken five years ago. The branch is now white, like a baby’s skin almost, still wet with sap. I have wrapped it in sack-

Slow Making- Fenside allotment. Janette Porter work in progress


ing, with a dozen others, to be used at a later date. I have no real use for these right now but know one day soon they will be exactly what I need. This bark is like a piece of strong leather when worked along the length, like piece of grass or reed when folded or bent across. The smell of the sap, the texture of the damp inner bark and sensations of running my hand along it provides me with knowledge to know how strong, how flexible and what form it might take.

The temperature of the air, slight wind and dampness tell me I can work with this easily for about an hour; if it was sunny and dry I would have to work quicker and be forced to make different decisions about the form this piece will take. This piece of bark, stripped from the tree, I can make into forms, simple containers, it is long enough to provide sides and base of three forms. So with folding and weaving I spend the next hour completely focused. Distracted by a mouse running across the shed floor, a swallow mistaking it’s way and flying in, faintly in the distance I hear voices of other allotment holders discussing weather, or roads, or how the crops are faring in this dry spring.

I realise I have hardly breathed, I am thirsty and a bit cold. I clear up the debris of bark, clean the knife and scraper I have used with a slightly oily rag and place the three containers on my bench. Now they are still flexible, of the tree, of the outside world, and smell of raw willow bark. In a few days they will become forms of the inside world, dry, less smell and firm to hold. I go back outside and to the place where the branch was cut, it seems to be part of the process. I go back to tend the tree, to be sure it will be healthy to grow more branches for the next five years. I spend time looking at it’s shape, where new branches are emerging this season and decide where to prune to allow for other trees to have space.

"Stripped" photo Jane Frost


At what point does the making start? When skills are gained to produce, or when the thought happens in my mind, or even when I am not conscious of any of these events, at a point of time I am not aware of? The separation between the thought and the start of the production process is a crucial place. The choice of materials and relationships it takes to produce a thing is where the conscious act of making must both be affected by, and have effect on the place and be-haviour of the maker.

Materials and materiality

Allowing something to emerge through materiality, manipulation of raw matter, a negotiation of relationships, my work is the opposite of archaeology. Respond-ing, not forcing a pre-planned structure. Time allows for the development of materials and forms without interference from my hands. I would like to give the word materialistic a new value and meaning. Artists, as part of society, are living and working at the pace technology has persuaded us is reasonable, achievable and healthy to aspire to. We multi-task with the mis-placed ideas that we have invested time to use later, the one day that will never really come.

As the Slow food Manifesto says ‘In the name of productivity, Fast Life has changed our way of being and threatens our environment and our landscapes. So Slow Food is now the only truly progressive answer’. The same principles apply to Slow Making, which in process will be restorative rather than destructive. A

"Water Line" Janette Porter installation


true understanding that the effects of unsustainable making processes are in conflict and even threaten the source and selection of materi-als and will eventually deny the choices we crave, and mis-guidedly assume are a right for our work practices. Makers understand the time it takes to learn a skill well enough to be at least satisfied, if not proud of, the results. There is conflict between the pace of 21st century production demands, hand making and being in a world that relies upon the exchange of cash for goods and materials. The LETS sys-tem works in cities with a critical mass of interested and motivated people, which allows for an element of time and skills in the ‘exchange rate’ because the individuals in-volved have the autonomy to define this.

As members of consumerist society, with growth and profit at its’ heart, we generally have more things avail-able and accessible than we need. These become less valuable and less valued in terms of time taken to make them; if the resources, time and skill to make were valued, the materiality of things would also be more precious.

‘Learn to Ski in the summer, learn to swim in the winter’

Slow Making happens as a seasonal event, time and place are inseparable from the action of making. Fast travel is the common experience of most people; the seasonal experience of natural cycles and of particular place is missed. Talking to allotment holders and farm workers, some of whom have known the area near Littleport, Cambridgeshire intimately for 70 years and more, it is evident from the pace of their walking, the verbal expressions and phrases they use to describe their physical surroundings that they have a depth of knowing about the place which is a rare experience now. Most people living in the locality now will never understand the land in the same way – they pass over it without really touching the surface and so have no belonging. That takes time. Time is a resource too expensive for most artists to use, and yet too precious to ignore.

I make because of the seductive, sensuous nature of material and the desire to

Wisbech Park: Sense of Place Jane Frost


communicate with and share what I make, to make work that is in relationship with community, environment and resources, because that is how I explore and understand the world around me. In the words of Victoria Mitchell ‘Textiles, for which hand-spinning long served as a major component, are not only a medium of fabrication; they may also justify consideration as a mode of entry into knowing’. Through my work I want to encourage the audience to slow down, contemplate and discover the intangible assumptions about the materials and processes of making and time; to explore the apparently irrelevant, play with ideas and be somewhat child-like in looking and learning, through interaction between people and materials.

I have been looking at other aspects of slow art, the work of sound artists and musicians who have explored slowness and time. Brian Eno coined the term ‘The Long Now’ in contrast to the frantic living pace of New York. His angle was perhaps a little different, in that he was conveying the desire for the se-duction of being always young, always in the ‘now’. Alan Sonfist’s work in New York, in particular the tracing of bird migrations as a public art monument to the history of air pollution, demonstrates a new attitude both to the longevity of created work and the mentality of possessing art, or for that matter possess-ing anything. The value of this work is an expression of the transient nature of all man-made things. Working since the 1970’s Sonfist’s work Natural: Cultural focuses on the overlap between constructed and natural environments or land-scapes, the time taken to realise one of his projects can be several years. In the process relationships develop with people and places.

There is tension in the environmental world between those who want to tell us that the end of the world is nigh and those who want to encourage us to plant trees for the future. With knowledge and information people can discuss issues of global warming in specific measurable terms with charts, graphs and num-bers to show how destruction will happen and when and where. The knowledge in itself is not enough to understand what it might mean in terms of personal experience, what individuals usually need is a way to hear and express the in-formation in terms of their own values and beliefs.

Slow Making, as an educational movement may not happen in the current ghetto of establishments where age and experience appear to be under valued. This is demonstrated by the under funding of community education nationally, learning only justifies funding when the aim is a qualification, not purely for an experience of learning. Slow Making must take time into consideration and this is not possible with the expectations and demands of UK’s National Curriculum.

The founder of the Slow Food Movement, Petrini, considers himself to be an Eco-Gastronome, concerned with producers’ and consumers’ protection as well as food criticism. He did not perhaps promote all of these elements initially, better to convey the main point of Slow Food aims. The Slow Food Movement lends itself to getting people together; a meal is a good excuse to party. Through social interactions the depth and complexity of the movement is ex-


plained and experienced. My aim is to continue to hold workshops, conversa-tions and exhibitions on the theme of Slow Making to encourage the same in-teraction between makers and audience. Production and outcomes are not the focus and time is allowed to develop collaborative work and relationships. The complexities of Slow Making will be more defined through this process.

During workshops about Sense of Place I have heard both positive and negative comments from adults and children about their experiences of how time has affected their home space. ‘The toilets used to be maintained’ ‘There used to be a park attendant – and he told you off if you rode in the park’ This from a man who complained about bikes being ridden in the park today, so I am not sure what the solution was! ‘I think there should be suggestions boxes at the gates for how you could use the park – not lots of signs with red lines across’ This from ten year old, who offered the very positive suggestion of doing per-formances on the bandstand and inviting residents of local sheltered housing to watch! Said in the hearing of a local councillor who was so impressed that her suggestion is going to the next council meeting. I see this as the beginning of relationship and environment restoration, the next stage in the slow making of a community’s public space.

Slow Making and Luddism

Slow Making is not a Utopian aim; it is way of making, an additional element to work with or another tool. Slow Making might be considered a form of Lud-dism, but that is not the intention. Now used as a term of abuse, Luddism in its’ original sense was a reaction to the premise of making work more efficient in economic terms only, deeming social, environmental and cultural effects to be irrelevant.

Supported by economists, the widely held worldview is that technology is neu-tral and has no effect on the value systems and behaviour of society. In re-sponse to this, so-called "neo-Luddite" thinkers usually reject the popular claim that technology is essentially value free or amoral, that it is merely a set of tools that can be used for either good or evil. Instead they argue that certain technologies have an inherent tendency to reinforce or undermine values. In particular that some technologies foster social/class alienation, environmental degradation, and spiritual dissipation, though the companies that make them always market them as uniformly positive. Supporters of environmental move-ments, possibly those with less technical and specific knowledge often hold an opposing premise. This cannot be upheld when considering the needs of the world population: at the most basic level we know there are naturally occur-ring poisons and food production needs to be a combination of control and un-derstanding of natural growth. Sharing the world must mean a negotiation. With the potential for damage that humans can do, of course those with finan-cial or political power must negotiate on behalf of those without, not forget-ting the non-human to ensure a sustainable life for all.


The art world has been slow to wel-come or demonstrate awareness of the environmental consciousness of the late 20th and early 21st century, perhaps concerned that their crea-tions and possessions are valueless in terms of climate change. More recently organisations such as the Royal Society and The British Antarc-tic Survey have invited artists to work with them with the aim to pro-mote an agenda. The work made in these circumstances is still being evaluated, there is still divided thinking and whereas industries us-ing electronic and electrical equip-ment are now controlled by law, there is insufficient evidence that artists are considering their materi-als source, work processes and dis-posal as part of the work.

Slow Making aims to develop an 'ecology of making' and you can't force the pace of ecology. Using Slow Making as an integral part of work practices will help makers be-come conscious of seasonal actions. ‘A time to reap and a time to sow’ is relevant to makers, there are times in ones life to learn, observe or pro-duce, to teach or share skills. This does not mean the materials they

use have to be natural, grown organically or relate directly to agriculture or rural lifestyles; more that they will be made more aware of the quality of mak-ing work at a pace that is not damaging to themselves, community or environ-ment. Not producing, not being desperate to achieve the most, faster than any one else enables the maker to consider, be mindful of the time, materials and relationships involved in making. Producing one beautiful item and contemplat-ing, rather than thousands and not having time to stop cannot help maker or audience in their appreciation of the work. I have learned this through per-sonal experience, being forced to stop through illness twice in my life, both times because working at a pace that I thought would achieve everything, but found the opposite. The world does not come to an end when you slow down. It is surprising how much more is achievable when you allow time to consider the tasks. Not many have to be done right now and if worth doing at all they will surely benefit from taking longer to complete.

"Workshop Photo" Jane Frost


At this point I am reminded of a photograph taken in my parents garden, when at the age of three I became conscious for the first time of observing to learn. I can remember the sensation of seeing someone else draw, how they were physically manipulating a crayon and working out how to do it. I knew I wanted to create that effect, I don’t remember any frustration, just awareness and even understanding it would take time and that was the only thing necessary, I was the only one who could do it. I also remember enjoying that feeling and it would be good to hold onto, 50 years later time is not an abundant resource, but I do have more skills to select from and fit into the time available.

Slow Publishing, exhibiting and performing

Gallery audiences like to understand what they see very quickly, needing to feel secure in a public space. How can the element of relationship in Slow Mak-ing be demonstrated in a gallery situation? I have not resolved this yet, what I might provide the audience for their life journey and change their pace of liv-ing, how to give them an experience of the time and processes involved. I have worked both in social and environmental development projects as a visual art-ist; more and more often I have observed people’s physical and mental engage-ment in the action of the making process, it provides a way of expressing that is not logical or measurable information; at the same time it has real lasting effect in their lives and in the surrounding community and environment. When I successfully demonstrate aspects of Slow Making in my work then audiences have the opportunity to experience the pace and process combined. ‘A firm defence of quiet material pleasure is the only way to oppose the universal folly of Fast Life’ In the process of making, in the enjoyment of owning, using and even discarding or passing on the item slowness will be evident. At all stages of their existence products, events and relationships started with Slow Making will enhance rather than damage the experience of all involved.

My Slow Making journey continues with this in mind,

Slow Making is done with reflection and consideration for community and environment.

Slow Making is relationship and action.

Post Script

Since writing this there have been more exchanges with both Dave Pritchard and Tim Frost, the conversation has developed and is attracting more par-ticipants including journalist Carl Honore and artist Fran Crowe. There will be a public conversations staged in Cambridge and Norwich.

Jane Frost [email protected] www.frostart.co.uk


Recently, I’ve been involved in making a piece of public art with dance / multi media company Salamanda Tandem, commissioned by Impact Art, to celebrate the launch of a government flagship building in Shropshire called the Hadley Learning Community (HLC). The building is quite extraordinary because in its centre is a space of architectural beauty; an amphitheatre of green called ‘the forum’ which is contained by giant arcs of glass that house a number of schools and community facilities arranged in a circle surround-ing it. As director of the project I wanted to make a work that connected to the sensory qualities of the space and to the people, so touch and sonic vi-bration, became our primary mediums.

It’s a big and bustling place, housing some 2000 people, so I didn’t want the art to ‘demand’ attention, but instead, act as an ‘invitation’ for people to interact with it. The forum provided an ideal starting point, for people to witness our ‘site dances’ and ‘site music’ through classroom windows, open doors and corridors. From there we went further into the recesses of the building, where we saw changes in the pace of perception occurring in peo-ple who saw the work. Individual imaginations were awakened as they be-gan to notice sounds for the first time and see their environment with new

‘Site Dance | Site Music’

Isabel Jones - Artistic Director, Salamanda Tandem UK


eyes. As the months rolled by, an accumulation occurred and we made a final installation or indoor forum, where many of the HLC community took the journey with us to become creators themselves. Like any creative process, this one had its own complexities; brought into particularly sharp relief by the fact that the special school had been de-signed so that disabled children couldn’t see the central forum from their windows, or corridors. This project, unlike anything I’ve ever done before, brought about some very extraordinary challenges arising from a specific set of circumstances.

HLC is part of a new phenomenon we’re seeing in Britain’s architecture to-day, ambitious private buildings are springing up all over the place; temples of glass, wood and steel, designed to serve communities with education, health, social, and care services. Build costs amount to millions, paid for by PLC businesses with the support of central government funding. It’s a dream come true, as some of Britain’s most disadvantaged people, move from old crumbling schools, libraries and day centres, into high spec archi-tectural works of art, that bring communities together in a matter of two or three years. On paper it’s all a very neat idea; but in practice it’s a rather slippery concept to make work. PLC businesses often move into the ‘learning’ or ‘health’ market place with little or no knowledge base about social interest trading, the symbiotic rela-tionship between people and new architecture or the learning, care and health fields. They are heavily reliant upon partnerships with these under resourced public sectors, who are unable to share knowledge or provide enough resources at the speed and scale required to meet demand once the building is open. Depending upon how involved the PLC is with the subse-quent delivery of services within the building, problems can arise early on through a conflict of interest between the production of big profits for PLC shareholders, and achieving a harmonious partnership for the benefit of the community that the building was created for. In the meantime, where does this leave the people the building serves? In the case of HLC’s disabled children, they are isolated from the rest of the ‘community’. Was this intentional or an accident in design? Furthermore, I can’t help wondering, if it’s actually possible to make ‘profit’ out of


‘learning’, when we’re faced with a much more difficult task; the creative empowerment of some of Britain’s poorest and most disenfranchised peo-ple? Nottingham based Salamanda Tandem, is a dance and experimental performance company that engages with audience and community participants in direct and physical ways to promote creative development. Established and directed since 1989 by Isabel Jones, Salamanda Tandem produce contemporary art events that can include performances in unusual spaces, visual/sound installations, and environ-ments where the audience can choose to observe and/or become part of the artwork itself. Its work tours regionally, nationally and internationally, developing audiences through access to high quality art works, training in creativity and participation. Contact: 38 Laurie Ave, Forest Fields, Nottingham, NG76PN, Tel/Fax: +44 (0) 115 9420706 E:[email protected] Web: www.salamanda-tandem.org, My Space: www.myspace.com/salamandatandem

Salamanda Tandem Registered in England, Company LTD by Guarantee number: 3929215, Registered Charity number: 1087588

A note from the editor….. In the next issue, we will be featuring a conversation between Isabel Jones, ‘learning’ expert Belinda Harris, and arts consultant / cultural researcher Fred Brookes. They will be exploring some of the issues raised by this new concept in building for communities, and discuss some of the questions that face them in the work they do on empowerment through creativity, art, learning and cultural development.

Salamanda Tandem Image Credits: site dance | site music ©salamanda tandem 2007

Director/choreographer: Isabel Jones, Choreographer Julie Hood Dancers: Adam Chillot, Lisa Craddock, Alice Crick, Julie Hood, Isabel Jones and Mickel Smithen.

Photography: Geoffrey Fielding, Photography / Design: Richard Hughes Composers: Duncan Chapman and Isabel Jones

To see more Site Dance images and hear Site Music go to the link below http://www.salamanda-tandem.org/flash.html


The aim of the event was for LAN and YSP to celebrate 30 years of sculpture in the landscape of the Yorkshire Sculpture Park in the Bretton Hall estate. We had a full programme of presentations and workshops and some 20 members joined the celebrations in glorious weather. Although we had planned to accommodate a larger number we found that the event provided an opportunity for members to engage fully with each other as well as with the place. 24 participated in the event over the two days. The programme began with a presentation and tour of the YSP by Anna Bowman, Curator of Education, Yorkshire Sculpture Park. Anna has been with YSP almost since its start 30 years ago. She has been working with people of all ages, helping them to experience, enjoy and participate in art and art activities in the Sculpture Park. Members then chose workshops on Wood Carving, Environmental Art and Sound.

Arthur de Mowbray gets his greatest inspiration from working with wood, particularly green wood. He provided a workshop for members to explore working with pieces of wood from the Sculpture Park. Janette Porter, just back from a visit to Kenya, used that experience to lead a workshop demonstrating how path ways have been created to link to natural features of the park and she led a circular walk from the visitors centre to capture how the human interacts with nature as a metaphor for human travel.

In Praise of Sky, Earth, Trees and Wood: 30th Anniversary of the Yorkshire Sculpture Park Monday 6 and Tuesday 7 August 2007

A BRIEF REPORT by Bobbie Millar

Suppertime Photo : Janette Porter


Joff Whitten is a member of the YSP education team. His special interest is in sounds and he led a workshop listening to and responding to a range of sounds in the Park. After the Workshops Dr Noelle Odling talked about her experience of lead-ing the Yorkshire Quarry Arts project, how it had given her a chance to com-bine her two main interests, geology and art, to a much greater degree than

before. Quarries are geology laid bare and rich in scientific infor-mation – but the pro-ject has brought their beauty to her con-sciousness as well. Joff also led a sunset vigil in James Turrell’s “Sky space” in which members experienced subtle changes of light as the sun set gave way to darkness and the sky outside changed from pale blue to dark blue and the ceiling inside com-plimented with vari-ous shades of pale or-ange, yellow and white. The second day began

with a surprise addi-tional presentation by

Helen Escabedo. Helen was visiting the YSP to discuss an installation to celebrate 40 years of making permanent and transient installations all over the world. Her work was wide ranging and powerful often using themes re-lating to refugees and using recycled or natural materials. We look forward to seeing what she creates next year for the YSP. Helen Pheby co-ordinated the Andy Goldsworthy exhibition currently in-stalled in each gallery space at YSP with three permanent outdoor commis-sions. She took us on a full guided tour of the exhibition and gave insights into Andy’s inspirations, working processes and his relationship with YSP and its landscape. Members then participated in 3 further workshops, three choosing to revisit the fundamentals of drawing, others continued with Arthur’s wood carving and a third group enjoyed looking at the sculptures in the park through the eyes of photographer Jerry Hardman Jones. The day ended with members’ reflections on their experiences. Given the small numbers we did not have a movement activity but Dr Jo But-terworth has agreed to participate in a future LAN event, possibly with Joff

Anna Bowman leading LAN Members tour of YSP Photo Jannette Porter


and linked to sound, at the YSP to enable members to explore movement in the land-scape. We were delighted to welcome two new mem-bers Eleni Tracada and Stefanos Pirovolissianos and hope that other delegates will join the Network shortly. The venue was excellent, the auditorium provided an excellent base. The food was very well pre-sented and full of inter-esting flavours, served in the visitor centre. We were very grateful for all the efforts by Anna and her team to make LAN welcome and to benefit from her longstanding involvement with both LAN and YSP. The weather was glorious and members were able to celebrate and appreciate the landscape and sculp-tures: in praise of sky, earth, trees and wood. Tam Giles, who worked with Anna and Bobbie to organise this event, is currently compiling a report that reflects delegates’ experiences for the next journal.

The two days at the Yorkshire Sculpture park were a delight.. The talk and short walkabout were a pleasant reminder of its history. Not only did we learn about the works there, but also about the trees and the buildings which are managed with the same care as is the sculpture. Our knowledge was enhanced by the opportunity we were given to 'explore' the Park in more de-tail via the varied workshops. Photography, sound, woodcarving and tiny environmental interven-tions gave us the experience of participation in the whole project of the Park. Of course we learnt more in depth about the work of Andy Galsworthy and of James Turrell, as we were taken around the Galsworthy solo shows and the Turrell Sky Space. The Sky Space structure has damaged the Deer Shelter which I found surprising in a place so concerned with the environmental impact of their built additions, but sitting in the Sky Space chamber as the sun set was a meditative experience for the group. Finally, it was interesting to hear which organisations had funded the involvement of scientists and artists in the Quarries project in Yorkshire. The un-expected talk and slide presentation by Helen Escobedo was a real treat that rounded off the two days in a highly satisfactory manner.

Dilys Jackson

A Reflective Moment Photo : Janette Porter


For the past seven years the Thames, near Rainham, has been rising and falling around a strange, iconic fifteen foot high figure welded onto piles sunk 25feet into the mud of the river bottom. It is The Diver – Regeneration, the only sculp-ture permanently sited in the river itself. How it got there is a tale of perseverance, patience, recycling and three thousand nuts and bolts.

The Diver is the work of architect and self-taught sculptor John Kaufman (1941-2002). Inspired and encouraged by sculptor Don Rankin, Kaufman laboured for four years in his back garden in Romford bending, drilling and bolting endless coils of recycled galvanized steel brick palette banding

The Diver in the Thames Jeff Higley


around a heavy steel armature. Slowly what emerged was the massive figure of an old -fashioned deep sea diver with huge helmet and air hose, Ultimately there were three tons of ma-terial contained in the massive yet delicate web of metal that would rise from the waters of the Thames like a mirage, water and light flowing through its open structure, only to be sub-merged again, fully or partly, depending on tidal flows. Initially Kaufman financed the project himself and as work pro-gressed it became part of the Havering Riverside Path Project, one theme of which was the working river so the sculpture fit-ted into that concept. Adam Nardell of Havering London Bor-ough Council became a staunch supporter of the project and Cleanaway, a local refuse company, contributed the costs (£8,800.00) of creating a platform driven deep into the river bed to which the figure was welded. The actual site work was carried out by Mowlem Marine on August 23rd in the early hours of the morning. Ultimately the work cost £12,000 and Kaufman was supported by friends and colleagues, notably John Bowyer. The years of construction work were not the only labour Kauf-man had to undertake to bring his project to fruition. Not only was planning permission from Havering Council needed but also the licences from the Port of London Authority, The Environment Agency and the Ministry of Agriculture, the ob-taining of which involved two years of red tape and bureauc-racy. The piece was conceived as a tribute to the artist’s father, Johan Friedrich Kaufman, who had worked as a diver in the London Docks. It resonates as a memorial to all those working men who have laboured on and in the dangerous waters of the Thames. Poignantly the figures great hands are bent and twisted, a reminder of the arthritis that afflicted Johan Kauf-man. The artist himself fell ill and died only two years after he witnessed the triumphant installation of his dream. His wake was held on the site where his Diver remains as a memorial and a tribute to a creativity driven not by the need for fame and money but by emotional and creative energy. Jeff Higley

LAN is considering a trip to see the work in situ later this year.

Meanwhile should you wish to see The Diver the sculpture is

sited in the Thames in Rainham, London. It can be reached

from the Ferry Lane Industrial area and Coldharbour Lane. The

car park is found by passing the Tilda rice warehouse.


Dialogues in Diversity by John K Grande Art from Marginal to Mainstream Pari Publishing, Italy ISBN 978-88-901960-7-2 2007 The artists included in this book are, Patrick Huse: The uncultivated landscape; Anna Torma: stitches in Time; Nadalian: River Art; Francisco Gazi-tua: Time, Space, and Memory: Bio-Art with Brandon Ballengee; Roy Staab: In Tune with Nature; Manufactured Landscapes: Ed Burtynsky; Christo and Jeanne-Claude: World Wrap; Yolanda Gutierrez: Suspended in Time; Antony Gormley: Land Body Memory: Ousmane Sow: Larger than Life; Chris Booth: Intra-Culture Sculp-ture; Bill Woodrow: A breath of Fresh Air; Peter Randall-Page: The Mind in Matter; Interview with a Guerrilla Girl; Cai Guo-Quiang: Shock and Awe. Reading this latest book by John K Grande, a scrap of memory from childhood school assemblies pops up cookie-like, ‘From Greenland’s icy mountains, from India’s coral strand,Where Afric’s sunny fountains roll down to golden sands…’ That is all I remember because at these words my imagination would take off, and the rest of the hymn fade into the distance. Reading this book is a world tour of art from north and south with a Norwegian’s expression of the Arctic and a Chilean’s of the Antarctic and Andes, and circling the world with artists from New Zealand, China, Iran, Africa, Europe, South, Middle and North America. John Grande presents sixteen artists in these dialogues. Each dialogue begins with a brief introduction to the artist’s manner of working and a CV summary. Then he and the artist (or duo, in the case of Christo and Jeanne-Claude) engage in a dialogue. All are asked to describe in their own words their background, heritage, and the motivating fac-tors underpinning their work; the responses are uniquely personal but what emerges is that the direction of their work is shaped by the con-straints of the particularities of their time and cultural environment or environments if they have moved from one country to another. I found it fascinating reading, John Grande has a discerning eye; he re-veals the character of the work and its roots in the artist’s vision and values. He himself keeps discretely in the background; he gives a few of his own perceptive, supportive and positive responses to their work but makes no value judgements or comparisons.

BOOK REVIEWS


Some of these artists retrieve ancient heritages and the use of tradi-tional materials, others use contemporary technology and interact with today’s environmental and biological sciences. Some make quiet tem-porary or long lasting work in nature, restoring habitats, celebrating its beauty, its structures, evoking transcendence. Others look more di-rectly at the consequences of development of colonialism and indus-trial pollution. Protest is implicit in their work rather than active. Mainly the artists choose to make positive statements. This is a short book, only 175 pages in all, in-cluding a forward outlin-ing the development of Modernism by Edward Lucie-Smith and another reviewing the relation-ship between each artist and Nature by E. David Peat. It is compact and no hoist is needed to lift it; it can fit easily into a satchel so a single dia-logue can be taken and be absorbed while trav-elling or waiting for the dentist. Each artist’s work is illustrated by several excellent photo-graphs. The book is well printed and on fine qual-ity paper. Short as this book is, it is dense. Each dialogue raises big questions that the artists have had to grapple with before find-ing a way forward for their work. Clearly all of them are aware of the critical state of the planet’s fragile ecosystem. The balance of geological, chemical and life forces is teetering, due in some part to the actions of human beings. The cli-mate is changing, which in turn impacts on all life forms. As to human activities, the depletion and squandering of resources, the destruction and pollution of habitats, the impact of ‘market forces’ -all these are recurring subjects which all the artists have had ponder while search-ing for their work’s direction. In the face of today’s realities it is en-couraging to learn how these sixteen artists have each found a direc-


This issue contains an interesting collection of recent pro-jects related to urban environment, architecture and public art and offers an insight into innovative lighting schemes and installations. The introduction establishes an overriding theme to the issue by putting forward the artists as ‘key figures in the evolution of al-ternative concepts to engage a new audience and transform the urban realm through the use of new media[…]’. An eclectic and broad range of articles are listed under the three themes with which the journal is concerned: Urbanism, Art and Architecture. However, most of the articles overlap the three disciplines and demonstrate the value of interdisciplinary projects. Each arti-cle has its own emphasis, and they vary widely in content and form. Some deal with specific projects related to architecture and urbanism – including Terry Farrell’s new home office in Mar-sham Street; Vong Phaophanit and Claire Oboussier’s glass ‘Outhouse’ in Liverpool, Peter Fink’s three Rivers park in Pitts-burgh, and the new Madder Rose gallery in Clerkenwell, London, while Gemma Tipton gives an update on the new developments in Dublin. Others concentrate on the work of specific artists or architects with a profile of Martin Richman, an interview with Liliane Lijn, and a description by the architect Tony Fretton of

Art & Architecture Journal nr. 65 [Spring 2007]

Art & Architecture Ltd, 64 pages, £10, ISSN 1360-3250

tion to take, -to make beautiful works which affirm the value of art and its potential to bring hope. And all credit to John Grande who has given the artists space to give their own responses to the unique cir-cumstances facing our planet in today’s world. But is there another message, and this time from the Author? Memory of that hymn returned and somewhat expanded: did it not go on to some evangelical conclusion? That is what it was trying to tell me: Then I realised that John Grande has a mission, and it can be found in whom he omits, that is, artists who continue to work as if in ignorance of any environmental crisis. And not only the artists but a large part of the mainstream ‘art world’ is as yet giving scant attention to this issue. So by his selection of artists he is not only speaking for their work but also clarifying their intuitive message, pointing out a way ahead for an art of engagement relevant to all our futures. This book is available from the publishers, price £17.99

Tam Giles


his own work. A last group of articles consists of reviews of shows, festivals and a museum – The Snow Show 2006 in the Alps, the Zentrum fur Lichtkunst in Ulla in the Ruhr region, the Festival of Lights in Blackpool, Radiance Festival of lights in Glasgow – while Georgina Turner describes different lighting schemes in European Cities. With these examples the dominant topic of this issue emerges as lighting schemes. Not all articles focus on lighting, but a majority touch upon it, and it is not sur-prising that the two profiles are of artists (Richman and Lijn) using artificial light to express their art. Jeremy Hunt, in his editorial and in an article entitled ‘The Ur-ban Picture’, explores the possibilities of broadening the scope of using artificial lighting in the urban environment. The effect of lighting to enhance the perception of cities and heritage sites, transform buildings and streetscapes and create landmarks is now well known and is commonly used in most cities; but could lighting schemes play a more active role in urban regeneration? Hunt explores the potential of new media (video, digital images, ephemeral and interactive light installations) to engage the local communities in the regeneration of the urban spaces through brief descriptions of the work of consultants specialised in inter-ventions including live audio-visual performances, sensitive in-stallation responding to people’s movements, interactive digital art facilities, etc. However the other articles focusing on light-ing and light artists seem to confirm the aesthetic and visual values of lighting rather than explore any potential for participa-tion. The most successful example of public art/architecture use for regeneration described in this journal appears to be Phaophanit and Oboussier’s Outhouse in Liverpool. It does include a so-phisticated lighting scheme that transforms the building into a very noticeable sculptural object at night, but its true success comes from the transparency of its steel-glass structure. The unimposing presence and power of this innovative structure to reflect the surrounding environment appear to have conquered the local communities. Its openness and flexibility of use have ensured its success as a meeting place and a landmark for com-munity activities. While this issue of A&AJ is successful in highlighting a rich se-lection of innovative lighting schemes with concise and well il-lustrated articles, there are some issues that are clearly left un-addressed. A discussion on the issue of sustainability and light-ing in urban regeneration is notably absent and so is the issue of light pollution in modern urban and rural environments.

Laurence Pattacini


Landscape & Arts Network (LAN) was founded in 1993 by artist Francis Carr, becoming a charity in 1998. Its aim is to bring together landscape archi-tects, engineers, architects, artists, edu-cationalists and ecologists - in effect, all those individuals, professional or other-wise, who feel passionate about improv-ing and sustaining the quality of our ur-ban and natural environment. Through an ongoing programme of seminars, visits, conferences and meetings it has broadened the context in which we un-derstand art and landscape. It continues to inspire and break professional boundaries in its journal Landscape and Arts. As a Network, one of its founding aims is to encourage collaboration and cross-fertilisation both in theory and practice. Our website provides immediate global access to our work. The Network con-sults with the public and private sectors on policy and project development to maximise the potential of artistic col-laboration to produce innovative, crea-tive solutions to urban and rural regen-eration projects.

The Journal Landscape & Arts Network Journals are only available online with current is-sues only accessible to LAN members. Older issues will be regularly trans-ferred to the main public website. Some printed back numbers are avail-able at their cover price (£3 - £6). Apply to Membership Secretary, 26 Homecroft Road, London SE26 5QG. 24 Art and Ecology 25 Japan 2001 26 Ethnicity and Art 27 Art, Place and Materials 28 East London Public Arts 29 Land Art and Ecoart USA 30 Land Art and Land Use Conference Papers 31 LAN 10th Anniversary Issue 32 Gunpowder Park Special Issue 33 Arts, Sciences and Ecology 34/35 Land of Spirit and Reason 36 Transformations 37 1st online Journal 38 2nd online Journal 39 3rd online Journal 40 4th online Journal 41 5th online Journal

L&A NETWORK JOURNAL Editor. Jeff Higley Book Reviews: Martin Spray, Design and Production: Bob Williamson The next issue is due online in January 2008. All copy must be sent by e-mail or on disc/CD. Images can be sent by post and will be returned. The Editor re-serves the right to edit all con-tributions. Editorial contact e-mail: [email protected]

L&A NETWORK CONTACTS Bobbie Millar (Chair) +44 (0)113 343 7609 Mobile 07740 941950 [email protected] Jeff Higley (Journal Editor) 020 8244 7440 Mobile 07914216901 [email protected] Francis Carr (Network Foun-der and Honorary Lifetime President) 020 8675 5694 Tam Giles (Diary and Events) 020 7231 9041 [email protected]

Bob Williamson (Database, Website Online Journal) [email protected] Sheila Kellow (Membership) [email protected] L&N Network Services and Gunpowder Park contacts: Eileen Woods, Creative Direc-tor, The Field Station, Gunpowder Park 01992 762128 [email protected] www.gunpowderpark.org

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