Mine

See:http://wiredspace.wits.ac.za/jspui/bitstream/10539/11903/2/rhett%20martyn.pdf  for my paper, Generative Process in the artworks of Stefanus Rademeyer.















MINE
Mine is a suspended construction made from segments of match wood glued together to form a schematic rendition of a mine with its various shafts and tributaries. As such it represents a three-dimensional model of an underground mining tunnel network beneath Johannesburg. This ‘negative space map’ is derived from schema in the form of maps and diagrams which detail some of the tunnels under the city of Johannesburg. Such maps were the initial blueprints for the sculpture, however, during the making process I started to digress from the specificity of the maps and to build intuitively, allowing the form to grow organically. Effectively the process itself began to usurp the goal of achieving a representational schematic of the tunnels and in this way I had stumbled into the territory of generative art practice almost by default. As a lattice-like form suspended in mid-air this work may recall three-dimensional computer modeling in its open construction format, i.e. it is not unlike ‘wire-frame’drawings that are frequently carried out on computers in rendering 3-D forms. As such it carries the appearance of a ‘virtually sculpted’ form and its suspension in space reinforces this aspect of depicting a kind of cyberspace image. As a suspended work it does function as a kind of ‘landscape of the imagination,’ but as a growing form that extends directly into the viewer’s space it also very clearly ‘takes charge’ of public space. Viewers are able to see through the work in its complex intricacy and thus see it as ‘occupying’ the space in which they are encounter it. In this sense there is a highly tactile and embodied interface between the viewer and the work.
The conceptual impetus of Mine is based on an interest in exploring the theme of landscape and identity, more specifically as manifest through the metaphor of the mine. In The Frightened Land by J Benningfield (2006), W.J.T. Mitchell’s Landscape and Power (1994) and David Bunn’s Our Wattled Cot (1994), the authors suggest that representations of landscape are integrated with a political ideology and history. Indeed this idea is applicable not only to the representations posited in artistic depiction, but also in the way that landscape itself is changed by the people who inhabit them. The overhauling of the natural environment through human settlement and urbanization and the way in which urban sprawl alters the landscape and how industry deposits specific features such as mine dumps and sludge dams (notably in and around Johannesburg), reflects a broader form of socio-political expression. Mine dumps, sludge dams and acid mine drainage are the detritus remains of ruthless profiteering. The resultant features carved into the Witwatersrand landscape over decades of gold mining are the primary result of an aggressive consequence of a capitalist ethos. The scars left on the Witwatersrand landscape as a result of this have featured prominently in the works of leading South African artists like William Kentridge and David Goldblatt. Their depictions of the Johannesburg landscape, its terranean and  subterranean world, stressed by the impact of mining, are well documented. The following Guggenheim website addressing the work of Kentridge illustrates the link between trauma in the landscape and how it is felt in the body (ostensibly as a gesture to evoke empathy):
In Felix in Exile, the fifth film of the series made between September 1993 and February 1994, Kentridge depicts the barren East Rand landscape as witness to the exploitation of and violence against both natural and human resources. Isolated in a hotel room, Felix peruses the survey charts of Nandi, a young black woman who maps the history of the terrain. Figures and structures are subsumed into the landscape or night sky, allegories for how the land can bear the scars of crimes against humanity.Kentridge’s animated films are “populated with characters whose psyches are as scarred as the landscapes they inhabit” (guggenheim.org.2000.n.p.).

 In Mine I tried similarly to draw a connection between conditions of body and those of landscape by way of correlating the image of the mine metaphorically with the idea of a cancerous growth. The notion of mining as an invasive process below the surface of the earth seemed appropriate to this idea of a malignant growth, especially considering the environmental and social problems it leaves in its wake. Cancerous cells employ their own generative process, displaying similar properties to the idea of autonomous growth as defined by Galanter on generative art processes (2003 n.p., n.d ) The following passage points this out:
The change from a normal cell to a cancerous cell is called transformation […] Transformed cells exhibit two heritable characteristics: anaplasia and autonomy […] Autonomy refers to the fact that cancer cells are independent of the normal mechanisms that control the rate of cell division. (mhhe.com, n.d. np.).
On reading up on various definitions of cancer, especially tumorigenesis I came across several features that display such similarities between the way in which cancer cells grow uncooperatively and autonomously from programmed cellular function (therefore considered autonomous) and the notion of autonomous process as found in generative art, albeit that in the case of cancer the process has run awry. The use of language in the following definition is also noteworthy where the author speaks about the “programming” of cellular structures in the context of cancer:
Cancer is ultimately the result of cells that uncontrollably grow and do not die. Normal cells in the body follow an orderly path of growth, division, and death. Programmed cell death is called apoptosis, and when this process breaks down, cancer begins to form. Unlike regular cells, cancer cells do not experience programmatic death and instead continue to grow and divide. This leads to a mass of abnormal cells that grow out of control.(Medical News Today, n.d.: n.p.)
This reminds me of Eksteen’s (2004: n.p.) comments on Rademeyer’s works fracture and tremor where he says that modules (cells) become a “structural computation that generates its own model […]” In the case of cancerous cells the programming has been corrupted and the cells no longer cooperate with the body. As I noted earlier in my text, the module (cell) no longer functions as a brick in a wall through which the lay and direction becomes the result of an outside-in design process. In Rademeyer’s tremor and fracture the modular wooden segments essentially conform to the quadrangular, monolithic super structure that they participate in creating. In thinking of this composite model of tremor as a metaphor for landscape we are reminded, for example, of the hexagonal rock formations at Giants Causeway in Ireland, where rocks developed into pristine crystalline formations as a result of extreme heat and pressure exerted by volcanic forces millions of years ago. It is a spectacular display of interlocking hexagonal steps that together make up a flawlessly tessellated super structure. The precision of this highly ordered display gives the impression that the resulting rocky outcrop was artificially manufactured. Such precision of interlocking forms is also seen in healthy cells in the body where units cooperate to the benefit of the larger organ. Cancer cells, on the other hand, are rogue cells, inflamed and out of sync. Tumors erupt as a result of such inflamed  growth patterns that are out of control (Arias, 2007: n.p.).
Two features in the construction of Mine could be compared metaphorically to the generative process as seen to occur in cellular mitosis of the body. The first could be likened to a malign mitosis in which the growth activity is disorganized, irregular and corrupt. The other shows a more organized growth pattern that could be compared more to the natural mitosis occurring in normal cellular mitosis. Here there is a sense of regularity and consistency. The overall appearance of Mine is a bit like the former in which the construction of the wooden sticks seems haphazard and where modularity seems non-existent in the overall design. Match sticks are cut to varying sizes and there is no apparent order in the way in which the tunnels of the mine crisscross each other. The tunnels are constructed to be representational of a mine structure but the generative aspect of this structure does not ‘progress’ in the sense of an organizing principle (as in Rademeyer’s works). Instead, it develops like an additive knot where there is not any determined sense of direction and flow. This is, however, contrasted by the upper register where wooden triangles represent an element of landscape covering the mine below. Here there is more of a sense of fluidity and directionality. The landscape is constructed out of a system of isosceles of triangles cut from pieces from 30 cm match wood. The principle of creating an undulating landscape out of triangles was derived from computer generated 3-D triangular modeling. Using this computer method of constructing it is possible to create flowing surfaces by juxtaposing triangular elements and altering their pitch, yaw and roll in a Euclidean space. I thus adapted such computer imagery to a handmade version of constructing in wood.


In Mine two qualities of modularity are juxtaposed, one chaotic (malignant) and disorganized, the other ordered, organized and harmonious. The former is built into the part of the sculpture representing the mine structure while the latter is denoted by the triangular polygons that represent the natural landscape above the mine. This juxtaposition seemed appropriate in speaking about two qualities of landscape that exist in the Gauteng region. One aspect is represented by the ideal of natural but threatened savannah grassland biomes that are characterized by order and symmetry. The other is characterized by disorder and irregularity and represents industrial imposition onto the natural environment. In this way I identify with Rademeyer’s use of environmental rather than anthropological metaphors as a vehicle of socio-political expression. He (Personal communication, 31 January 2012) explains his position in this regard:

With my exhibitions and talks I like to raise awareness of the natural world and ecosystems and its immanent collapse. Currently the majority of contemporary artists Generative Processes in the Artworks of Stefanus Rademeyer are really preoccupied with the social dimension of life, I do however think that it is important to also escape that anthropomorphic bubble sometimes; I do believe that it is possible to interact with and experience the rest of the non-human world around us. I also think it is important to restructure our living environments, because an environment influences the way we see the world, the way we relate to one another, and the way we relate to other living things on the planet. Currently and in the future I will be working more often in applied fields of interactive design, architecture, ecosystemic design, biomimesis and its applications.
Mine adheres to a generative process; this means that it is constantly changing and growing. The sculpture has already been exhibited in three different forms since I started building it, and interesting spinoffs are emerging from tampering with photographs of the sculpture (see Fig.17). For now the environmental and biological metaphors seem appropriate to my work but I am becoming interested in the possibilities of new meaning emerging as the process of building progresses. I intend to keep this process alive and remain open to changes and new directions that it may lead me to. 

References:
Arias, J., and Aller, M. (eds.) 2007. Cancer cell: using inflammation to invade the host General Surgery Unit. [Online] Available at http://www.molecular-cancer.com/content/6/1/29 [Accessed 26 January 2012].
Beningfield, J., 2006. The Frightened Land: Land, Landscape and Politics in South Africa in the Twentieth Century. London: Routledge. 
Bunn, D., 1994. Our Wattled Cot, Mercantile and Domestic Spaces in Thomas Pringle’s African Landscapes. In: Mitchell, W .J.T. , ed. 1994 Landscape and Power. Chicago: Chicago University Press. Ch 5 Chaitin, G., n.d. G J Chaitin. [Online] Available at http://cs.umaine.edu/~chaitin/ [Accessed 11 February 2012].
Coetzee, J. M., 1988. White writing: on the culture of letters in South Africa. New Haven and Cape Town: Yale University Press.
Coetzee, N. J., 1992. Pierneef, land and landscape, the Johannesburg station panels in context. Johannesburg: C B M Publishing.
Galanter, P., 2003. What is Generative Art? Complexity Theory as a Context for Art Theory. [Online] Available at: http://www.philipgalanter.com/downloads/ga2003_paper.pdf [Accessed 29 May 2011].
Galanter, P., 2006. Generative art and rules-based art vague terrain 03. [Online] Available at http://www.philipgalanter.com/downloads/vague_terrain_2006.pdf [Accessed 11 February 2012].
Galanter, P., 2008. Complexism and the Role of Evolutionary Art. [Online] Available at http://philipgalanter.com/downloads/complexism_chapter.pdf [Accessed 01 January 2012].
Pearson, M., 2011. Generative art: A practical guide using processing. Greenwich CT: Manning Publications Co.
Mitchell, W.J.T., 2002. Landscape and Power. Chicago: Chicago University Press.
Medical news today, n.d. What is Cancer? What Causes Cancer? [Online] Available at http://www.medicalnewstoday.com/info/cancer-oncology/ [Accessed 11 February 2012].
Merriam-webster.com, n.d. [Online] Available at http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/awry [Accessed 11 February 2012].
MHHE.com, n.d. Genetics and Cellular Function. [Online] Available at http://www.mhhe.com/biosci/ap/saladin2e/graphics/saladin02apuff_s/common/ch05clin_apps.pd [Accessed 11 February 2012].
Rademeyer, S., 2012. Discussion on the artist's work [Interview] (Personal communication, 31 January 2012).