For the love of lava
Flying between the Pacific coastline and the Cascade range is a visual treat on a clear day. Making this trip up and down the west coast is all in a day’s work for this technical sales person turned traveling artist. If you’re extra lucky, the plane may even fly directly over some of my favorite volcanic peaks like Crater Lake or Mt. St. Helens. Living near Seattle, we are almost always greeted by the giant of them all, Mt. Rainier.
Even on a cloudy day, Mt. Rainier always pops out to say hello. Portland bound, October 2019.
As you know, I’ve got a thing for volcanoes and all things lava. Many of my dream destinations are volcanic hotspots – Iceland, Hawaii, Mexico, Peru and my home turf in the PNW.
What I didn’t know was that one of the most incredible architectural designs, the dome, was also a natural phenomenon in the world of lava. Just inside of Mt. St. Helens crater, for example, is a beautiful lava dome, all perfectly rounded from hot magma.
A tiny peek of the lava dome in Mt. St. Helens from 30K feet. Still Portland bound, October 2019.
Somehow knowing this, makes my pursuit of the dome shape in my installation work much more interesting. Rather than connecting it to the architectural design feats of Dome of the Rock or Taj Mahal, I’d like to connect my inspiration back to the greatest artist of all – Mother Nature.
All that glitters
The dome shape came to my creative practice because of a simple craft kit I saw in a department store during a Christmas shopping blitz: glitter bowls. You just never know where your next idea might pop up, so keep your eyes and mind wide open!
Glitter bowl’s brother from another mother - the thread bowl.
Eager to explore new shapes, the kit came with the first materials I would test: glue, glitter and three sizes of plastic molds. The kit was intended to make small sparkly jewelry bowls, but I saw everything upside down.
The first of the upside-down glitter bowl, aka. dome, all sparkly in blue, January 2018.
These molds would become my architectural ‘crutch’ to defy gravity and build my first dome. Rushing from store to store to gobble up as many holiday glitter bowl kits as possible, while supplies lasted, I managed to collect an army of molds so volume production could begin.
Crumbling down
Glue is pretty amazing while glitter is just plain pretty. Combine the two and some visual magic can happen.
For six months, I feverishly built domes, and they had a starring role in my installation work in Mexico, California, Hawaii and Oregon.
A spruce bush in San Miguel de Allende all spruced up with glitter domes, February 2018.
I loved them so much, I began searching for a way to display them for an interior installation that could be submitted for art shows. The inverted domes, aka bowls (haha), could be nested with various sizes and colors, and adhered to a flat surface of wood or canvas.
Upside-down domes all nailed down and ready to show, March 2018.
There was one major problem with the design: glue is no friend to climate change. Everything I designed inside, and certainly those that traveled long distances, had no chance of ever surviving.
The domes became a brittle pile of shards or a melted glob of goo.
The dome remains after a long, and obviously hot, flight from Maui, June 2018.
Back to the drawing board.
Pro Biotic
One aspect of the glitter dome that I loved was its translucency. I’ve been chasing this in my work forever (hello ice!). One major characteristic I was less in love with was the inorganic material used to make glitter today – plastic. While I tested mica as a sparkly organic substitute, it did not provide the same binding properties as glitter.
Mica plays the sparkling role in these gold domes, Black Butte Ranch, Oregon, August 2018.
As my installation practice developed, my search for organic material has expanded:
· Brewing vegetable and spice dyes from my kitchen to color my first ice installation in Iceland
· Foraging plants like lichen and seaweed to dye textiles for my mixed media canvases
· Hunting for mineral deposits to create earth pigments as a material for paper studies
My quest to create ephemeral sculpture that can dissolve cleanly into the soil has become an integral part of my artistic world.
But how to find a translucent material made from botanicals that could hold a dome shape?
Hello mung bean!
Hibiscus dyed mung bean all domed out in Aguas Calientes, Peru, June 2019.
Biodiversity
Ahhhh….the short-lived life of a mung bean dome. Yes, it can drape across a form and hold its translucent shape, but again, travel and the elements are not kind to mung bean. Even more delicate than ice, the mung bean dome could barely handle a five hour flight.
Ode to a mung bean dome after many an installation flight.
Yes, I could sleep peacefully knowing the organically dyed mung bean would return quietly to the earth. But, if it can’t be transported to the installation site, it’s burnished glimmer is lost before it’s ever seen.
While repeated material disappointment might stop some in their tracks, not this artist. Every single iteration of my dome has been an informed failure for the next discovery. Without each of these stumbles, I would never have found the newest material I’m so excited to explore – bioplastics.
Oh, let the light shine in, you gorgeous bioplastics, you! Bothell, Washington, November 2019.
Dome 3.0 is born!
Biosphere
This weekend, I cooked up my first batch of bioplastics. Built from organics of agar, glycerol, gelatin and water, the quick and toxic free recipes were easily brewed on my kitchen stove. Adding dye steeped from the blue butterfly pea and hibiscus flowers created subtle shades of grayish blue and purple.
Beyond the dome: molding square bioplastics in my Bothell kitchen, November 2019.
As they quickly hardened in various molds, translucent forms emerged as the water evaporated during the curing progress. Shrinking and contorting, every day a new shape has appeared.
Agar bioplastics morphing back to algae, November 2019.
Now, it’s time to test the dome. Only problem is I have no idea where those molds are in my new garage, soon-to-be studio.
No worries – I have time. The bioplastics are sure to stick around.
Beyond the biodome
Finding a name for a shape before it’s even been built, I just know the biodome is going to be a success. Beyond the lava field, some of the most beautiful ‘biodomes’ constructed by humans have been igloos, wigwams and beehive houses. Anything built of ice, bark, reed and mud is an inspiration for an installation artist like me.
Into the biodome I go…
Head into the comments to join me!
