Dia: Beacon Landscape

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, last Sunday I went to Dia: Beacon for a day trip (evidently making the most of our short, warmish interlude between snowstorms). Today I'll post some photos of the landscape that was installed for the new space.


Artist Robert Irwin designed the landscape for Beacon and though I like it enough, I'm disappointed that commissioning Irwin infers that an artist can take on a landscape design interchangeably with a landscape architect. Now, in all fairness, Irwin also did most of the planning for the gallery spaces themselves and as I said, they are extraordinary. But the landscape - to me - doesn't offer any revelations.



Above you have the aerial hedges of Carpinus betulus. Second to birches, I'd say that straight rows of columnar architectural hornbeams are the go-to design gesture for museums. It's a touch cliche, really. I understand that in an urban environment the tall narrow canopies of Betulaceae-family trees make sense, but with so much opportunity on this site, it's disappointing that no risks were taken. Particularly when you consider that risk - even indulgence - can be concomitant with works of contemporary art. Why none of that expressiveness in the landscape?


I did like the detailing - the raised decks on corten steel refer to the Serra pieces inside and also protect the root zones of trees. Though I think I would have tried to come up with some more elegant way to hide the concrete footings (see image below). But at least they are not sonotubes -- nothing is more annoying than seeing the end of a sonotube peaking out of the ground, with the cardboard wrapping slowly peeling away.



The mitered pieces of decking were subtly elegant details as well. Though I wish we would see more use of composite wood for its environmental benefits.



The front lawn entrance changes from lawn to concrete and then to asphalt with the use of turf blocks - concrete honeycombs which allow turf to grow in the voids while (presumably) allowing a solid enough surface for firetruck parking and other heavy vehicular traffic (like cranes that will install large pieces of artwork).



Of course, that's my practical assumption as to why the turf block was used. I did read a review of the space at this link which interpreted the landscape as a "front garden, with concrete diamonds instead of open lawns. Tufts of grass peek through holes in the grid, as if desperate to escape the symmetry." Right.

Sycamores and Dia: Beacon

Last Sunday was a gloriously warm day for New Yorkers - of course, by late February, the bar for 'glorious' is set pretty low: I was thrilled to have temperatures surpass the 40° mark.

In any case, a friend and I celebrated this warmer weather with a trip to Dia: Beacon.


Dia: Beacon is a contemporary art gallery housed in a former cardboard box factory. The large, expansive rooms of the factory, which once housed industrial machinery, now are now indulgently large galleries, flooded with natural light from the pitched skylights. The massive size of the building also allows for quite a few massive (as if there are any other kind) Richard Serra pieces.


The trip itself is lovely as well. Metro North runs a line along the Hudson River and the walk from the train station to the gallery is less than half a mile. During the walk back to the train station, I couldn't help but pause and take a few pictures of this perfect specimen of sycamore (Platanus occidentalis).



I have mentioned sycamores before in my post about London plane trees. Indeed, London planes are a hybrid of sycamore and Platanus orientalis - the plane tree more often found in Europe. Sycamores have larger leaves and whiter bark. The base of the sycamore trunks also have a scaly bark, and only becomes a smooth exfoliating bark further up the tree.



This sycamore is located in a fairly typical microclimate. Sycamores are often found on slopes near riversides and can handle damp spring soil fairly well.

Baseball

Last night I caught the third game in the Mets-Braves series at Citi Field. Though my heart belongs to the Yankees, I'll happily root against the Braves. Sadly, the Braves won.

On the bright side, I got to see a baseball game in August in the lovely new Citi Field. Now I don't know much about baseball, but aesthetically I'd say the stadium was a big improvement on Shea. Or, for that matter, the former Yankees Stadium (I know. It's the house that Babe built. But really, it's not a great stadium.). Anyway, I was surprised at how much I noticed the smaller size and what a difference it made to me as a spectator. The amp system wasn't too annoying, the seats were comfortable and, wow: cup holders.

The landscape around the stadium wasn't too bad either. You could see from the photo below that they were going for a more natural, informal look. I'm not sure they quite achieved it.


The photo above shows purpletop (Tridens flavus) and Rudbeckia, which are both great plants for a native palette. But in the foreground, Nepeta and a species of Cotoneaster are lurking, neither of which scream to me Piet Ouldolf. Damn if I don't have a picture of them (then again, come on: my mind was on the game.). The trees are Ginkgo biloba - a great tree, but again, a pin oak would match a native palette better and probably fare well in this spot. (I'd love to say a sugar maple would be a good candidate but no doubt these are discouraged due to the Asian Longhorned Beetle.)



The above, overexposed, photo is of the Jackie Robinson Rotunda. It's a nice moment where you're not quite indoors or outdoors. The cutouts almost remind me of a James Turrell piece.

Finally, I can't write about a baseball game without a shot of the field. I wish I knew more about baseball - baseball fans, to me, seem to be the most starry-eyed. But for the time being, I can at least appreciate a place where I can enjoy a refreshing breeze, a cold beer and a hot dog. Oh, and of course, where I can root for the home team.