Lean­ing Into the Wind re­vis­its artist Andy Goldswor­thy

Waterloo Region Record - - Nightlife - KEN­NETH TU­RAN Los Angeles Times

It’s not just su­per­hero movies that get se­quels, art-house hits get them as well. So, 16 years af­ter his “Rivers and Tides,” Thomas Riedelsheimer re­turns with an­other ex­am­i­na­tion of the life and work of en­vi­ron­men­tal artist Andy Goldswor­thy, “Lean­ing Into the Wind: Andy Goldswor­thy.”

That first film, in­tox­i­cat­ing and med­i­ta­tive by turns, not only opened a por­tal into a fas­ci­nat­ing cre­ative mind, it also served as kind of a spir­i­tual ex­pe­ri­ence, trans­port­ing view­ers into a priv­i­leged space where tran­quil­ity was there for the ask­ing.

But, just as Her­a­cli­tus said no man ever stepped into the same river twice be­cause “it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man,” so is the ex­pe­ri­ence of “Lean­ing Into the Wind” sub­tly dif­fer­ent from the pre­vi­ous film.

Some things of course are the same, in­clud­ing the lu­mi­nous cin­e­matog­ra­phy of Riedelsheimer, who serves as his own cam­era­man, and an evoca­tive score by Fred Frith.

Goldswor­thy is still rooted in his farm near the vil­lage of Pen­pont in Scot­land’s Dum­friesshire. “I’m bound up in this place,” he says, and to hear him talk about changes in a nearby for­est as if they were the stuff of Shake­spearean drama is al­ways a plea­sure.

But of course Goldswor­thy has changed and evolved as an artist since that first film, and “Lean­ing Into the Wind” in­evitably re­flects that.

For one thing, he now fre­quently col­lab­o­rates with his daugh­ter Holly, and though he gruffly in­sists “it’s early days” for their part­ner­ship, that change lends a dif­fer­ent, more com­pan­ion­able but less ethe­real, qual­ity to the way he makes art.

More to the point, Goldswor­thy seems to be tak­ing on an in­creas­ing num­ber of larger, more in­ter­na­tional projects in places rang­ing from St. Louis to Brazil’s Ibitipoca Re­serve, some of which are hard to grasp in the glimpses the film pro­vides.

Also, though the bond be­tween sub­ject and film­maker is if any­thing closer than it was the first time around, the con­ver­sa­tion be­tween Goldswor­thy and Riedelsheimer does not hold us the way it did in “Rivers and Tides.”

But all this aside, it wouldn’t be right to ig­nore the won­ders that “Lean­ing Into the Wind” does pro­vide, like the cre­ation of a path right through the cen­ter of Ice Age boul­ders found and gath­ered in New Eng­land.

And, given that Goldswor­thy says at one point, “you can walk on the path or you can walk through the hedge,” it’s no sur­prise to see him hav­ing his way with any num­ber of hedges, of­ten to amus­ing ef­fect.

Even if some things have changed, spend­ing time with an artist who’s con­cerned, as he’s said in interviews, with “the per­ma­nence of tem­po­rary ob­jects and the tem­po­ral­ity of per­ma­nent ob­jects,” is al­ways worth the jour­ney.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Canada

© PressReader. All rights reserved.