Foreign
to the Forest Michael
Boonstra's work connects humans and mediated nature BY
SUZI STEFFEN
Walk into the Broadway & Olive corner gallery
at DIVA. You'll be met by the forest, not in hackneyed nature photography
nor in slightly mystical paintings, but in the ways we most often
meet up with our trees: As charcoal, plywood, beautiful pieces of
Doug fir, ink, paper. Not that Michael Boonstra, the artist of these
delicately tough assemblages, lives as a stranger to arboreal habitats.
He hikes with his wife and kids in the mountains and, for two weeks
in late 2005, spent some alone time at Caldera, an arts retreat
just outside of Sisters, where the trees weren't exactly lush.
Windowork
Topography
Series #2
"It's surrounded by an immense scarred landscape,"
he says. "Actually, it looks like the hand of God came down and
saved the [Caldera] complex because everything around it is completely
charred." That burned landscape, combined with some other large
burns, inspired the pieces for this show.
Boonstra, originally from Michigan, graduated from
the UO in 2002 with an MFA. Though he lives in Eugene, his work
hasn't popped up much since that time in this town. That's because
his MFA show, like those of the other art students during the time
of the J-Schnitz remodel, opened in Portland and pretty much stayed
there. From that show, Boonstra received commissions and other work
in Portland, Bend and other places around the state. He has also
kept busy teaching both at the UO and, more recently, at Willamette
University in Salem.
His first show in Eugene, all from pieces made within
the last year, glows both from its materials and from its rigorous
beauty. By restricting himself mostly to materials made from wood,
Boonstra limits his palette to white, black, some gray and the golden
colors of milled Doug fir and basic plywood. The pieces reach tentatively
toward the viewer, appealing in their simplicity yet containing
layers of thought and meaning.
Three iterations of artwork, similar in materials
and goals but with differing resonance, make up this show. The first
is work hung on the wall, like the complex Erosion I and
Erosion II. These two — porcelain tiles framed with
Doug fir — mix the natural and the human-mediated by emphasizing
growth patterns in trees. The creamy tiles are painted in dark slip
in ways that resemble a print made from a cut log. The individual
woody cells — made of clay, not of wood, of course —
make visible the price of cutting trees and the beauty in the remaining
stumps.
Hanging from the ceiling, Remnant #11 and
Remnant #2, like the various Topography Series on
the wall, reflect a psychological interaction with the forest. Wood-based
ink stains white backgrounds covered in Dura-lar film. In #11,
the smudged ink reflects healthy, full-leaf trees; a separate section
below the trees seems to give a view into their roots, reaching
down into the frame. In #2, the trees are burned, upright
stalks that reflect a rigorous beauty but also inch toward the grief
inherent to devastated areas. Yet the roots still reach below the
trees.
The one site-specific piece (Boonstra's usual kind
of work) covers two smaller windows in the room. Windowork
uses pieces of Dura-lar and plywood to block off the windows, but
a snaking line of holes runs through the outside piece, and the
light from the holes reflects in a pattern that curves like a child's
drawing of camel humps. But Boonstra had something different in
mind: patterns of perambulation. "The pattern is more of a drawing
of what goes on outside that window, with people meandering around
and hanging out," he says. The resulting work reminds viewers of
the flow of water, a string of pearls, raindrops, birds and many
other associations. And standing in front of them for a minute provides
a pleasurable link to Boonstra's original design: As people and
cars pass by on Olive, the colors change like those in a kaleidoscope.
Boonstra says, "Idealistically, I think about interacting
with the landscape by walking through it" as he did during the Caldera
residency. "But realistically, how I come across it most often is
through manipulated materials." His thoughtful explorations of that
experience make this show worth a visit. Robert Adams' paintings
and Blue Mitchell's shows, also at DIVA, nicely contrast with Boonstra;
I'd look at those two galleries first, then head to Boonstra's work
for an emotionally cleansing experience.
DIVA,
at 110 W. Broadway, is open from noon to 6 pm Tues.-Sat. The shows
are up through Sept. 1.