Assisting nature by attempting to turn a fallen tree branch into dirt.
I had told the organizers that I would do a durational performance as part of the festival. And since I was there more than a week early to teach a workshop, I decided that I would be able to come up with an idea once I was there, so I did not bring any materials with which to work. Instead, I walked around the neighborhood and sat in the new space at Le Lieu, contemplating what I might do for my performance.
It was early September, and even though it was unusually hot, signs of fall were in the air. Most evenings it became much cooler as soon as the sun went down. The leaves on the trees were starting to change colors. I thought about how the leaves fell and decayed on the ground, becoming sustenance for the roots of the trees from which they fell.
I asked the organizers if they might find a fallen branch for me, and I held up my hands shoulder-width apart to show them the size that I meant. I was thinking that perhaps, with the use of tools like a hasp and a wood plane, along with a mortar and pestle, I could grind a short branch into dirt in the six hours of my performance.
What they brought me was a branch of a mountain ash that they found at the edge of a road. It had fallen from a tree, perhaps breaking because it was so heavy with leaves and red berries. It was beautiful! But it was huge. It was wider and taller than me by several feet. I knew I had my work cut out for me, and that six hours was not nearly enough time.
Before the announced beginning time of the performance, I lay with the tree talking with it. But eventually I carried it to the table and began the task of turning it into earth. I stripped the leaves and berries, which took several hours. I sliced off bark, cutting it into pieces. And then I ground the berries and leaves and bark in a mortar and pestle, adding water from my drinking bottle to make a mud-like slurry. I worked without stopping, knowing how limited my time really was.
As 7 pm approached, I finished grinding another batch of the leaves and berries and emptied it out. And then I sat contemplating how long it would really take to finish the entire branch. Nature has its own pace. And I did not even have the help of insects participating in the transformation, nor the benefit of the temperature repeatedly freezing and thawing. I turned to the audience and said, “I have many hours to go before I can finish. I will stop here.” Then I stood up and left the gallery.
