Final Reflection

I am back at Bowling Green now, and I returned my backpack to the Outdoor Activities office. I really did not want to give up this last little bit of my trip, but it's finally hit me - it's over. I decided to take this time to reflect on all the happy memories and growth that I was lucky enough to experience on this amazing study abroad.

I started this trip with very little artistic experience, but I definitely feel an increase in my technical knowledge about photography. I am by no means professional still, but I understand how to balance shutter speed and iso to capture dark images, moving images, and still images. I have changed aperture and manually focused my lens to capture some of the best photos I have ever taken. I can flip through my photographs from the first day to the last and note the disappearing ratio of blurry, bad photos to ones I will keep forever. It is because of this vast improvement that I think photography was my favorite art medium on this trip. I now know my way around a camera, and it became the best way to share my experiences with everyone back home. Photographs were also least invasive to the environment but the best memorialization.

I also had a lot of fun with the eco art we participated in. Tying my flax sculpture together made me feel like I was a true adventurer. Indiana Jones vibes aside, it also tied the philosophy of living sustainability to respecting the landscape. Unlike most other human actions, we were not permanently changing the landscape for our benefit. We were instead carefully choosing the resources that were available and using that to artistically express ourselves. Working outside made it even more fun. I noticed myself paying a lot more attention to my surroundings and thinking of them differently - instead of picking up a funky looking rock as a souvenir, I was trying to fit multiple rocks together in a stable bridge and putting a river perfectly in the background. Because I was trying to stack shapes that were not uniform, I had to experiment a lot and eventually accept that the vision in my head just might not work out. I was a lot more lenient about how I viewed my work when it was from nature, because I knew nature was not always perfectly symmetrical or even. I think that more accepting view is something worth taking from this class and can be applied to a lot more than just how I stack rocks.

This was actually a life-changing trip. I learned how to view myself as part of nature, instead of apart from the environment. I pay more attention to my surroundings and offer a little more appreciation. And, of course, I will always have the desire to return to New Zealand.

Project: Environmental Art

As previously mentioned on my blog, we worked with Martin Hill and Phillipa Jones to create our environmental sculptures. The focus of these artworks was to tie in nature and humanity in a way that would not permanently affect the landscape. After hearing about how important flax was to the development of Maori culture in New Zealand, I decided to feature all life stages of the flax plant in my work. The outside of this work is made of the old, dead, hard "reeds," then the leaves fade from yellow and brown to a brighter, healthier green, tied together with flax strings.

It was a lot of fun to work with Martin and Phillipa. I had no plans for what I wanted to make before reaching the wetlands, so I just played around with the materials I found. I attempted to stand it upright in the water, but the water was too rocky to allow the posts to stand securely. I floated it as a raft instead, and noticed that I had unintentionally created what looked like a half-sunk canoe. Weaving flax together was one of the methods Maori people used to make rafts, and I had followed in their footsteps (however, I definitely would not recommend using mine as an actual boat). I tinted the photos to make them look warmer, as if taken by an older camera. When editing, I chose a more sepia tint over strict black and white to highlight the detail of the different flax leaves used, but to still give off a vibe of being much older than a few weeks ago. The rain I captured added to the sinking effect and also created a neat ripple pattern. The final image of this sculpture just happened by coincidence, with the way the rain and the need to float turned my work into half of a canoe. I think all environmental art happens like that, with natural coincidence and the artist's adaptations becoming huge factors in the final product.

Environmental art as a genre reflects ideals found in many of the articles we read for our environmental ethics course. Freya Mathews wrote about a Taoist perpective in her article "Letting the World Grow Old: An Ethos of Countermodernity." She champions the idea of letting nature be the strongest influence in our interactions with it, and letting "whatever happen, happen." By choosing a sculpture inspiration from the materials available, then leaving the work exposed to the elements to float away, sink, or decompose, we are also reflecting this idea. This also matches Moana Jackson's description of Maori philosophy and natural resource ownership in "The Treaty and the Word: The Colonization of Maori Philosophy." We use the resources available to us when they are available, and let them return to nature when we are done. We do not go around digging up flax plants, or trying to take more than we need "just in case" while preventing our neighbors from sharing in the wealth. We do not claim particular plots of land and create flax plantations to produce all the sculptures we could possibly want. Instead, we take what we need as we need it and share with everyone, then stop using up flax leaves when we are done. We do not claim absolute ownership over the water, plants, or land we used once. We also enhance the aesthetic of the wetland as mentioned in John Fisher's "Environmental Aesthetics" and Allen Carlson's "Nature and Positive Aesthetics." They both question the ability of humans to better the aesthetics of nature without leaving a damaging impact. I would argue that environmental art, when done sustainably, increases the aesthetic value by bringing attention to the intrinsic value. People see the artworks, understand the process of ephemeral art and its low impact on its surroundings, and begin to think about their own appreciation for the landscape that provided the beautiful materials for the art.

Project: Landscape Photography

This is a body of work that represents how I view the landscape, and how my photographs reflect my perspective. Flipping through my photos, I noticed that I captured a lot of naturally grey scenes. The sea and sky usually blended together in different shades, or rocks would litter a shoreline and have different tints to them that made them stand out. Grey to me is always associated with cold, rainy days and unhappy emotions. The greys here give off a completely different vibe: they ask the viewer to look for the subtle color shifts between boundaries, but still somehow feel warm and natural. My very happy memories of New Zealand are all tinged with grey, from rocks to water to clouds, and this body of work reflects the dichotomy between my old perception of grey and my new.

The Greyscape

Seascape - This was taken from the top of the Interislander ferry on the coast of Wellington. I remember that day as being clear and sunny, but this photo makes the horizon look like a wall of grey clouds. This began our journey to the South Island, and if I could have seen the island in the distance, the experiences it hosted contrast the traditional gloominess of its grey silhouette. 

Rock Bridge - This was sculpted during our conversation about ephemeral spaces at Pelorus Bridge, one of my favorite stops on the side of the highway. The rocks are all various shades of grey, but somehow they can distinguish themselves from their very similar neighbors.

Driftwood - This was taken along State Highway 1 in the Southern Island, just outside of Kaikoura. This scenic drive is New Zealand's main road; the whole way down, there were lush green mountains on the right side and grey-blue ocean on the left. The subject matter as well as the natural greyscale on this photo are significant to me: this is the first time that we spent time in the Pacific off the South Island, very close to the Arctic, and saw the first of many beaches like this.

Wavy Blues - This was one of my favorite beach shots from Kaikoura. I loved how the grey rocks transformed into some of the bluest ocean I have ever seen. The scene starts from grey bottom, white froth transitioning to blue waves, darker sky behind, and then a return to grey with the mist-shrouded mountains in the back.

Ombre - This was another beach shot taken at the time of the Moeraki Boulders. This was the first "cold day" we encountered, and the cloud cover did very little to warm us. As we neared the tip of the South Island, even though we were still considered to be in a warm southern climate, there were subtle reminders in the lighting that we were very far south, near the Arctic. This collection of blues and greys ombre-ed by the sea reflect that geographical change. 

Pinnacle - This is the greyest and coldest photo of my entire collection. I was standing at the top of the Franz Josef glacier trench, right before the face of the glacier. I turned around and looked at the valley through which we hiked. The temperate rain forest brings a constant misty cover to the dark rocky sides. This landscape is completely different from anything else I've ever seen in my life, and it is not something I will forget anytime soon.

Exploration: A Portrait

The only portrait I have is actually of two people- Martin Hill and Phillipa Jones. It was taken at the Butterfield Marsh, where we spent time creating environmental sculptures. I like this photo because despite them posing, this shot took them slightly off guard. It captured them candidly joking with us students. I greatly appreciated their generosity and patience with our group, but their environmental philosophy was what impressed me most.

Day 20: The Saddest Farewell

Update:

Today was my last full day in New Zealand. We used our limited time to the fullest, having another day of outdoor adventure. We travelled to Abel Tasman National Park, named after a Dutchman who had never actually set foot on land after being chased away by a pugnacious Maori tribe. The park is made of a series of very small bays protected by numerous headlands. Each bay contains a small beach of fine sand that quickly disappears when the tide comes in. There are many birds that roost around the shoreline, especially wekas and shags. We split into two groups of eight and divided how we spent our time. My group chose to kayak to our lunch spot, and we spent about two hours in the water. We went into multiple dark and spooky caves, which was creepy but really cool in a double kayak! Once we reached the lunch beach, our guide, Nicole, unpacked a very impressive picnic spread. We feasted on the beautiful oceanside, then hiked 12 km back to our starting location. After being in the mountains in Mahu Whenua, a two hour hike through a flat, shady forest felt like nothing!

Once back in Nelson, we readied for our group farewell dinner. It took place at a fancy seafood restaurant called The Cod and Lobster, and we spent almost three hours appreciating our last night in this wonderful place. I really hope I will someday get the opportunity to return! There’s always grad school…

 

How the US could learn from NZ:

The biggest take away for me from this trip is the importance of environmental preservation. I wish the United States would adopt some of the measures New Zealand has in place to protect its natural resources. It takes drastic action to protect itself: it eliminates unnaturally introduced predators and sets up ecosanctuaries for endangered species, it uses sustainable energy whenever possible, it has a large focus on recycling and minimizing waste by cutting out plastic supermarket bags and charging extra for plastic tubs of condiments, and it made conservation such a cultural focus that no one complains about the inconvenience of environmentally-friendly practices. If the United States focused on preserving its own natural landscapes, they would become more beautiful and house healthier ecosystems. By supporting biodiversity and sustainability, the United States could perhaps become famous for its beautiful countryside one day. At very least, it ensures that future generations will have Nature to appreciate.

Day 19: Nelson

Update:

After leaving Franz Josef, we spent eight hours driving to the city of Nelson. Our last stop of the trip! This city is another tourist-orientated seaside town, but it has beautiful beaches. Our first full day was spent touring the botanical garden and art galleries. We headed to the Nelson Public Art Gallery, known as the Suter gallery after the second archbishop of Nelson in 1867. He was famously support of art and paintings, and his wife began this gallery as a memorial to him after his death. The curator of this gallery, Sarah, took us on a detailed tour. There were three main exhibits, and Sarah was extremely knowledgeable about each one. 

After our very thorough tour, we stopped for lunch and walked back to downtown Nelson. The afternoon was spent at the beach! It was warm, windy, and sunny: the perfect way to spend some of our last moments in the summer season.

Tourism:

Although I recognize the tourism-driven shops and towns of New Zealand, I do not think the country itself suffers from excess tourism. The shops pop up because it is a viable source of revenue for the shopkeepers, and they are smart to capitalize on this. However, the natural parks and beautiful landscapes still retain their sense of being separated from humanity. One can still go sea kayaking or hiking and not feel like one is fighting crowds and crowds of people. Those who do come into the country on holiday thankfully have not trashed the places they visit. Once the volume of people becomes too much for hiking trails and other natural places to handle, or once tourists begin wrecking the places they see, then New Zealand will suffer from too much tourism.