Anna Betbeze wanted to make a map of traces; marks and colors that the water left on something.
If you’ve ever seen her paintings, you’ll know why.
They are huge tapestries of dyed, burned, and painted carpet. They look like disgorged beasts and old, comfy couches, all at the same time.
She brought some things from her studio that she thought would absorb material in the water,
and we set off to paddle down the Coney Island Creek.
She dipped a pelt of artificial fur in the water,
to let it trail behind the boat.
The tide was lower than I had ever seen it in the creek,
and it was strange to see so much more of all the familiar sites,
huge old timber ships covered with barnicles and moss.
An article in the New York Times a few years ago said they might be whaling ships, burned to the waterline, and left to disappear,
or be taken over by new forms of life.
“Vibrant Matter.” said Anna.
She was refering to a book that she recomended to me by Jane Bennett.
It is a philosophical treatise on junk, or at least my favorite parts are.
Instead of thinking of humans as the only things with agency,
the book talks about the ability of matter to self organize,
to be ‘recalcitrant’.
At the end of the creek, there was a barrier to keep some of the floating debris from coming out.
It was easy to see that the barrier was doing its job. Downriver, the surface of the water was clear,
and upriver it was not.
Anna wanted to try and collect some of the junk that was caught in the barrier with mylar blankets,
and she floated out her net.
We landed on a little beach (with extra large bathrobes),
to pick up some more muck.
Anna worked the white fabric into the bank.
I thought it was like making a print of the waterline.
“Your art is fun to make!” said Anna, referring to the Tide and Current Taxi.
I had just been thinking the same thing about her bath robes and muck prints.
we pulled the boat out on the bank of Coney Island.
There were huge amounts of debris from the Hurricane, piled up inside fences on the beach,
but there was lots of other stuff that was outside the fences.
“It’s like a carpet.” said Anna.
We layed some of Anna’s material out on the beach.
It was amazing to see how some of the material attracted the the muck,
and some resisted.
Which material had acted, which one had been recalcitrant?
It hardly mattered for these vibrant materials.
There was something floating in the water;
a pretty jelly fish.
Anna wanted to catch it in her net,
but I talked her into a Lady-of-Shalott-inspired photo shoot instead.
“Do you think they sell beer at Coney Island this early?” I asked.
“Yes.” said Anna.
↑ Return to Top of Page ↑