To mark the launch of SPUN - Society for the Protection of Underground Networks, I'm releasing early the mycorrhizal fungi-related sections of my new film This Entangled Land, which features an interview I did with SPUN co-founder Prof. Toby Kiers about fungal networks in soil and my artwork on the subject. I've been gratefully drawing on Kiers Lab research for many years, particularly in relation to my project Producers-Parasites-Hosts 2012-2018 (see elsewhere on this site).
Mark That Maps Itself: On Roads That Lead Nowhere
by Alena Alexandrova, based on her lecture about Annabel’s work and this exhibition in particular.
ROAD – associated with horizontality, expansive, causes flattening.
FOREST – a living network, vertical, and thick, creates its own climate.
TREE TRUNK – its rings are a record of time, circular and layered, they become visible only when the tree is cut, at the moment of its death.
FALLING – the change between vertical and horizontal states associated with becoming dead and motionless, but also with becoming transportable.
STACKING – the piling up of different materials and commodities, which previously belonged to different contexts, in order to store and transport them. This results in a strange form of flattening. Flattening is an entropic process.
FLOWING – mobility, resistance to containment, but also relating to leaking and flooding.
WORDS – can be seen as flat, and flattening, insofar as they come with the building of roads. Can be seen as vertical, insofar as they capture the complexity of local habitats.
FOLIAGE – immersive environment, impenetrable surface to blend with and disappear.
VERTICALS – generally static, articulating long, deep time, associated with life.
HORIZONTALS – generally mobile, articulating fast time, associated with death, flattening.
ROOTS and root-like structures – should never become visible, or brought to the surface. When they do become visible, they form a network of marks that can signify stasis and death.
Durn That Road (2019) by Annabel Howland is a work that witnesses a journey to an island and its people, gestures, words, animals and plants. The installation consists of material collected on journeys to Borneo. A constellation of vertically and horizontally organized photos and film stills, field recordings, an interview and documentary excerpts together compose an installation that outlines the invisible flows of capital that determine the visible devastation of a landscape.
Durn That Road does not narrate, it is not exactly a travelogue, nor is it a field study. It articulates the visibility of the complex forces that determine an unfolding ecological disaster in a grid-like structure composed of horizontal and vertical planes. The verticals are formed by a constellation of aerial views showing expansive networks of roads that penetrate the land, but lead nowhere. The logging sites and roads form a strange flat, root-like structure that grips the land, transforming it into a barren, surveyable territory. The vertical collages also show aerial views of the forest as a thick surface of tree crowns; a deep green, soft pattern. They suggest the structure of sedimentation, or geological layers that form in deep time and resonate with the living time of one of the oldest rainforests on the planet.
The installation includes field recordings of the sounds of the forest and their modulation through the process of deforestation. The ambient sound of the forest changes in texture depending on where the logging sites are, so one can literally hear the flattening in the texture of sounds. The voice of children reading a dictionary of a local language Sa’ban, resonates with the sounds of a land gradually losing its voice with the destruction of its forests. In a filmed interview shown on a screen, three Sa’ban people discuss how the new road connecting their village to the city is changing communal living and their relationship to money. The interview captures a similar process of flattening, or erosion, that affects the delicate social networks of extended families and their everyday lives. The semi-nomadic use of land by family groups gradually transforms into a more settled use of the land, often nearer the road. Roads improve access to education and paid work, but also to building materials, leading to a dilution of social relations as families begin to live in individual houses instead of communal longhouses. Game hunted in the forest can now be sold, instead of shared with the community. The horizontal penetration of the land for the use of its resources causes its social textures to fragment and flatten, and perhaps, over time, brings about the gradual loss of complexity in its local languages.
An enlarged bulk cargo distribution diagram and pages from a ‘cargo notes’ instruction manual from 1964 describe how raw materials from across southeast Asia – timber, latex, apricot kernels, frozen rabbits, chicken eggs, and many other commodities – were to be stowed in ships’ holds for export to Europe. Composed of verticals and horizontals, the diagram and notes articulate a language of capture, of translation of the land into goods and materials, and point to the shallow, accelerated time of trade, the export of materials, and to financial flows. Horizontals and verticals form the generic infrastructure of grids, and grids establish an abstract, homogeneous flatness that is very different from the folds and crevices of a space understood as an environment or a habitat. Living trees become horizontal logs. Verticals converted into horizontals mark a loss of complexity; a transformation of complex, dense planes of a habitat into surveyable surfaces and, hence, death.
Horizontals and verticals relate to different types of visibility and embodied experiences. Being in the forest, in an environment composed of vertical trees, implies a relation of immersion. In contrast, a view from above captures the land as a horizontal, observable, mappable surface. This cartographic view establishes a territory as an abstract plane, it “abstracts” it into a virtual model, an informative capture of a territory with its network of roads. But in Durn That Road the photo collage of aerial views of the networked marks of the logging roads are not a representation of the roads on the island; they are very concrete and in a sense tautological; they are roads with no other function than the extraction of resources, and they signify nothing other than their own presence. They chart a map of disaster, not a place; they are a mark of destructive and invisible flows of financial capital and corruption.
The composition of vertical and horizontal planes resonates with the rhythm of two temporal perspectives, more precisely with their clash: the accelerated time of extraction and destruction and the deep time of one of the oldest rainforests on earth. This marks a crisis of human self-understanding under the conditions of technological modernity, which brings acceleration and complexity, but is also an entropic process of flattening. Durn That Road does not exactly produce a documentary or investigative report. Rather, it creates an open fragment that witnesses different aspects of forces that simultaneously build and ruin. And it witnesses the accelerated rhythm of resource extraction, which results in a future that fails before it is reached. Howland’s practice observes and articulates the visibility of speculative interactions between a range of complex systems which, though not usually visible, are always omnipresent.
Alena Alexandrova, Amsterdam 2019
Durn That Road
Sunday 20th January to 17th February 2019
Annabel Howland’s artworks weave speculative webs around ecology, finance and art. Looking through the lenses of different fields of research, she unpicks, isolates and reweaves threads from these systems. The resulting installations constantly shift between scales and perspectives in attempts to fathom and imagine the systems’ complex twists.
The title, Durn That Road, quotes the character Anse Bundren in William Faulkner’s 1930 novel As I Lay Dying. Anse is introduced to us through his rant against a road he finds threatening, mainly because it brings people (i.e. the taxman) to his door, but also because of its implicit demand for movement. “When He aims for something to be always a moving, He makes it longways, like a road or a horse or a wagon, but when He aims for something to stay put, He makes it up and down ways, like a tree or a man.”
For her exhibition at Bradwolff Projects, Annabel has developed a multimedia installation, which takes as its point of departure a road through the rainforest in the state of Sarawak on Borneo (East Malaysia). This logging road started on the coast and was gradually extended through to villages near the border with Indonesia where Sa'ban is spoken. Dr Beatrice Clayre began studying Sa'ban in the 1960s. In 2013 she published a trilingual Malay-Sa’ban-English picture dictionary, by which time the changes to village life brought about by the road had become tangible. In 2016, Annabel travelled the length of the road with Dr Clayre’s son, anthropologist Alasdair Clayre, and Semion Balan and Gareth Lihan from Long Banga, filming and interviewing people about the road, their languages and their ways of life.
They started with simple questions about how the arrival of a road affects the people living along it, and how a minority language fares under the changes a road brings. But a line through the rainforest that links communities, which used to be separated by many days travel on foot or by boat, also links into other lines that criss-cross the globe, following the long flow of capital, raw materials, and religion.
The installation is structured around strong verticals and horizontals, intermittently penetrated by single point perspective.
Sound from the installation in VU Amsterdam.
This edit was made for a busy, noisy thoroughfare.
Annabel Howland’s artistic research weaves a speculative web connecting art, science and finance. In her ongoing project Producers-Parasites-Hosts, such themes as cheating and cooperation, transparency and instability, profit and loss, intermingle with stories of microbial cooperation, dark pools and human debt. The multimedia presentation at VU during GET LOST – art route concludes this phase in her research. The installation in the central hall and corridor of VU’s main building comprises drawings and text printed on translucent film mounted on the windows, audio, photographs, plant roots and more.
Prompted by the consequences of the 2008 global financial crisis, Annabel Howland launched this research-based art project in 2012. These conversations have given rise to a multitude of forms – from paintings, diagrams, texts and publications to lectures and sound installations – presented over recent years in various contexts.
Throughout Producers-Parasites-Hosts, Howland has followed closely research by VU Professor of Mutualistic Interactions, Toby Kiers. Kiers has drawn on economics models for her research into the trade in nutrients between plants and fungi in the soil. Howland broadened this conversation by engaging with VU Professor of Finance, Albert Menkveld, around his work on flash crashes and robotic trading.
Artists and scientists explore the world at fundamental levels, driven by a deep curiosity about the substance of life and matter. The creative process of examining a subject from different angles and passing it through a range of media and artistic languages opens up new perspectives for the viewer, for imagination, and for nuanced reflection.
Clare Butcher wrote the essay to accompany the exhibition Do you read me? Really read me?
This installation was commissioned by VU Amsterdam and was generously co-funded by the Mondriaan Fund.
GET LOST – art route generates art in public space by partnering organisations in Amsterdam’s commercial district, Zuidas, with artists. For this edition the artists were invited to reflect on the idea of CODE OF CONDUCT.
GET LOST – art route 2018 received generous support from VU, AFK, Zuidas, City of Amsterdam, and the Mondriaan Fund through its programme Experimental Regulations.
For the map, audio work and the most up-to-date information on the programme, tours and performances, go to www.getlost-artroute.com
Photos by Jan Theun van Rees and Annabel Howland
TRIANGULATIONS (PRODUCERS-PARASITES-HOSTS FLEVOPARK)
Het Rode Loper Festival during Neighbourhood Camping Flevopark, Amsterdam, 2018
"Triangulation is a method of mapping and measuring space. For her site-specific sound-piece 'Triangulations', Annabel Howland interviewed a number of people who live or work in the fringes of the Flevopark. Some of them have been instrumental in establishing community gardens, allotments and flowerbeds on neglected or disused bits of ground. Others are scientists working in the neighbouring Science Park: biologists researching how fungi and plants communicate, trade and cooperate in the soil; and physicists learning about neutrinos – electrically neutral, subatomic particles that enter the earth in a straight line from space, passing through any matter they encounter on the way.
The conversations are edited against background-sound recordings of the Flevopark with its mingling of wildlife and traffic sounds; of the serendipitous sound of Woody Guthrie’s 'This Land is Your Land' on a car radio while driving along a Borneo logging road; and the Borneo rainforest, by day and night.
To get to Flevopark, you travel along the streets Borneo, Java, Nias, Soembawa, Ceram, Kramat or Insulinde, the colonial nickname for the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia).
Themes of growth, cooperation, trade, networks, interaction and survival crisscross through this site-specific audio work."
With special thanks to Lize Kelderman for lending her sound capsule and to Susan Meyerink, Liesbeth Aué, Wiek de Keijser, Irena Kristofiakova, Prof. Els Koffeman (NIKHEF), Prof. Toby Kiers (VU), Victor Armini Caldas (VU/Amolf), Annegien van Doorn, Rolf Bron, Rein Jelle Terpstra and Robert Bosch.
TRIANGULATIONS (PRODUCERS-PARASITES-HOSTS FLEVOPARK)
Het Rode Loper Festival tijdens Buurtcamping Flevopark Amsterdam 2018
"Triangulation (oftewel 'driehoeksmeting') wordt gebruikt om ruimte te meten of in kaart te brengen. Voor haar audio-installatie 'Triangulations' interviewde kunstenaar Annabel Howland mensen die in de zoom van het Flevopark wonen of werken. Sommigen hebben een belangrijke rol gespeeld bij het vestigen van gemeenschappelijk tuinen, moestuinen en bloemenperken op verwaarloosde of ongebruikte percelen. Anderen zijn wetenschappers uit het nabijgelegen Science Park: biologen die onderzoeken hoe fungi en planten communiceren, voedingsstoffen uitwisselen en samenwerken in de aarde; en natuurkundigen die zich verdiepen in minuscule deeltjes (neutrino’s), die de aarde vanuit de ruimte in een rechte lijn bereiken en door alles heen gaan dat ze tegenkomen, zonder deze te beïnvloeden.
De gesprekken spelen zich af in een wisselend geluidslandschap waarin het Flevopark te herkennen valt, met haar unieke symfonie van vogel- en verkeersgeluiden. Tussendoor is het liedje “This Land is Your Land” van Woody Guthrie te horen, opgenomen van de autoradio tijdens een rit langs een houtkapweg op Borneo. Of de geluiden van een ongerept stuk regenwoud op Borneo overdag en een ander plek in het regenwoud ’s nachts.
Zo speelt deze audio installatie met thema’s als groei, samenwerking, handel, netwerken, interactie en overleving, die kriskras door elkaar heen lopen.
Met speciale dank aan: Lize Kelderman, voor het lenen van haar geluidscapsule, en Susan Meyerink, Liesbeth Aué, Wiek de Keijser, Irene Kristofiakova, Prof. Els Koffeman (NIKHEF), Prof. Toby Kiers (VU), Victor Armini Caldas (VU/Amolf), Annegien van Doorn, Rolf Bron, en Robert Bosch.
FUNGI & CENTIPEDE GAME (2015)
Producers-Parasites-Hosts (fungi), installation in Residu#3 at Kunsthal 45, Den Helder (group show of recent residents of Het Pompgemaal, Den Helder, NL).
fungi comprises a book (fungi) of images and quotes relating to the project and the sound in the installation; a cylindrical light box with mycorrhizal fungi in a plant root photographed through a microscope; stereo sound piece Centipede Game – On Cheating (14 minutes) on headphones; gouache drawings of felt-tip markings taken from petri dishes containing experiments with hairy carrots and fungi reproduced on translucent film and mounted on the windows; gouache paintings on paper of the same experiments (without the blue felt-tip markings). The circular benches are remnants of the space’s previous incarnation as a billiard hall.
Old Stock Exchange Athens. Site of the performative lectures programme at AGORA.
Hilde de Bruijn during her lecture on the writings of Asger Jorn at the performance of Producers-Parasites-Hosts (Athens Mix) Athens Biennale 2013
(ATHENS MIX) 2013
AGORA, Athens Biennale 2013
Stereo documentation of 4-channel sound performance, 23'
Producers-Parasites-Hosts (Athens Mix) was part of a performative lecture with Hilde de Bruijn (hildegoesasger.org) in the “Non-Serious Lecture Programme” (on economy and value) at the Athens Biennale, November 2013. This work was also published on openDemocracy, 19 February 2014, as part of their Just Money debate.
‘Artists and scientists investigate life and our environment at fundamental levels, driven by a deep curiosity about the substance of life and matter. Wondering what happened to scientists of her generation who moved into finance in the 1980s, artist Annabel Howland tracked some of them down and recorded a series of interviews for her ongoing project Producers-Parasites-Hosts. Through intricate editing, Howland weaves a speculative web connecting art, science and finance. In the narratives that emerge, stories of lasers, kidneys and chemical compounds mingle with microbial cooperation and human debt.’
The lecture with Howland was part of De Bruijn’s research into the relationship between contemporary art practices and the thought and writings of avant-garde artist Asger Jorn (1914-1973). Jorn’s texts occupied an outspoken position in the philosophical debate about the position of the artist in society. De Bruijn´s talk was a non-conclusive attempt to communicate some aspects of these writings in the light of the “Value and Economy” theme of the Athens Biennial lecture series, and against the background metaphor of parasitic/symbiotic life.
GENIUS WITHOUT TALENT
Group exhibition, de Appel, Amsterdam (July - October 2011)
The birth of my daughter presented me with a perfect opportunity indulge in my fascination for language and language acquisition; to document and explore one child's linguistic development from infancy.
I am not a linguist. I am an artist with an enduring interest in the traits and processes that constitute language. I employ the tactics of an enthusiast to gather data and use self-devised systems to explore the ways in which qualities and meanings aggregate and evolve. For this body of audio work, the fact that my own child was the source of my material meant I was able to respond quickly and spontaneously to many different linguistic and vocal moments – to grab a mic in a flash. Some of the original recordings involve interaction with me, but in many I tried to stay in the background a much as possible, listening in on the improvisations and riffs taking place within the physical and cognitive limitations of a particular developmental moment. We hear her audibly savouring the sounds of her world, utterly absorbed in her story.
In Prosodic Tales: '2;00.12', '2;01.08' & '2;01.24', the first completed works stemming from this research, we hear three stories. Each was recorded in a single take and each is a spontaneous monologue. Recorded between the ages of 24 and 26 months, they capture a period of vocal expression that teeters on the brink of language. We can identify the prosody of conversation and narration, the contours of word(sound)s, repetition, and expression, breaks and pauses. But, just as when we listen to an unfamiliar language, we can only guess at the true content; its meaning and references largely elude us.
Prosodic Tales are exhibited alongside drawings from the Aspirant Lines series. These were made by tracing enlarged, projected images of my daughter's drawings and doodles, which were made in the period roughly corresponding with the period in which Prosodic Tales were recorded. They are the visual traces of another kind of physical effort to communicate, learn, or mimic. Drawn in chalk pastels, my drawings trace her marks which become pixellated through the mediation of the projector.