Providence Phoenix

June 19 - 26, 1997

[Art Reviews]

A profound experience

by Bill Rodriguez
One of the things that makes Barnaby Evans's WaterFire Providence such a stunning work of public art is that it's available on so many levels. Every kid who has stared enthralled into a campfire can get it. And people who spend the time and slow down to a meditative connection with the fire meeting the river, who let the whole experience settle deeply within, can leave strongly moved.
As intellectually satisfying as the concept of this installation is, the experience is what grabs you first. Slow-motion fireworks, up to 42 braziers at a time, winding out of sight in the river bends. That'll stop your deconstruction cold. At least until each of several senses gets its firm purchase. WaterFire is such a visceral encounter, the first urge is to engage it whole before starting to break down the experience, before weighing what makes each component work.

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Fire, even a single flickering flame, is such a wonderful kinetic sculpture in itself. Constantly changing while it stays the same -- just like a river -- the eye hasn't caught one arresting pattern before fire has shifted shape into another. But Evans has arranged a long necklace of pyres in braziers, suspended just above the water. Shimmering reflections multiply them. This year he has fine-tuned the spacing so the flaming beads nearly merge at bends in the river, when we view them obliquely. Sparks rise toward the stars and fall to the river, as the fires join sky and water.
Apart from the accompanying music, our ears are engaged by the hiss and crackle from each proffered blaze. And that music! Languorous, contemplative selections accompany us along the way and captivate us as they reverberate along the river. They invite us to sit a while and listen to the stirring "Fire Requiem" of Nicholas Lens, or the ruminating slide guitar of Ry Cooder, among other works.
The experience is tactile as well, as we feel the heat, but also by the very fact that it puts us in motion: you walk along to experience the installation. Since it is not all visible from one location, no matter how satisfying it is to stand and stare from a favorite vantage point, it lures us on. (And like a Degas pastel that puts a ballerina half out of the frame, the scene looks like it could extend infinitely.) Not even the sense of smell is neglected. With cedar in the mix of woods, an occasional aromatic whiff greets us along with, at the beginning, the sweet urban perfume of the hydrocarbon starter fuel.
WaterFire accomplishes what many other public installations only aspire to: create a shared community of passersby. Even at Maya Ying Lin's deeply moving Vietnam Veterans Memorial, we respect others' private thoughts and avert our eyes from them. But here the reverse happens: we are pulled out of ourselves as well as into ourselves. As we stroll and pass others, we know why they smile back. (And how many opportunities, short of sharing the same path after a blizzard, do we have for that?) We watch the fires tended by boatmen we know are volunteering to make this communal event happen.
As Evans points out, we no longer have an eternal flame sent by Zeus for us to maintain as a reminder of our spiritual links and responsibilities. It's not too much to say that this art work can provide a religious experience. Evans is serving as an artist/priest, bringing us together to ritualize relationships that we may not necessarily understand but which we sense are matters of life and death. Whether we recognize the matter or not, the metabolic fire that fuels us and the water that comprises most of our body link us in a felt sense to WaterFire. There's a tension between those glowing coals and the lapping river, inches below, that can extinguish them. Walking along, viewing the installation, one time the experience can be poignant; the next time it can be revitalizing. As life is.
Barnaby Evans has taken the two most elementary elements around us and made profoundly great art. It's rare for art in any medium, from performance to monumental sculpture, to attain the overwhelming impact of WaterFire.

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