Photograph by Katherine Bish
There are visual art experiences to be had in St. Louis that are far removed from the Friday-night wine-and-cheese gallery scene. They are not easy to find. As in so many myths, they are hidden in a forest. You will be going on a little hike. Some of you will get lost. Each of you will get a reward. Most of you will like it. A few of you will be scared. That's good.
I'm not the first to complain about the sterility of museums and galleries. Those white walls, with everything arranged symmetrically on them. And when art is consumed in a crowd, at a social setting, with snacks and booze, sometimes it's more of a party than an odyssey. You might be able to appreciate a moody Mark Rothko canvas while chuckling with your friends and tossing back chardonnay. Personally, I can't.
That's why the sculptures hidden in the woods at Laumeier Sculpture Park are so powerful. They are far less popular than the park's more easily discovered sculptures, dotting the open lawns—so much so that you may find yourself in blessed solitude when you finally encounter them. They are found only after a long tromp along meandering paths in the forest.
There are several places to enter the park's Nature Trails. Once you do, you'll notice how the tall trees swallow up some of the sunlight, and you'll hear a chorus of Missouri insects (you'll want to bring bug spray and a bottle of water, most likely).
You might run into Jackie Ferrara's Laumeier Project first. It's a sort of wooden minilodge that invites you to step inside. Once you do, you may feel as if you're within a great chimney riddled with holes that permit shafts of light to shoot through the shadows. Is this some sort of children's playhouse or a ritual chamber?
After more exploration, you may encounter Beverly Pepper's surreal Cromlech Glen. In the spirit of the "pure" environmental artists, Pepper's art is the earth itself. A huge earthen curlicue rises from a circular hole in the woods, with twin staircases cut into the hill allowing visitors to walk the spine of the shape. As one does, the grassy incline below seems to change, flattening and deepening once more.
Native Americans built mounds similar to this, and it's easy to see why. The simple fact of its obvious artificiality in the midst of wild forest makes a bold statement about the intrusive power of man. But the gentle swale of the grass and the sweet circle of sky cut from the trees above are feminine and reassuring. Pepper envisioned her cozy, womblike Glen being used for poetry readings and concerts.
If you like being shaken up, you'll need to make certain to stop at Ursula von Rydingsvard's Untitled. The precisely aligned grid of 45 wooden biers looks like nothing so much as a group of military coffins awaiting shipment on a transport plane— but smaller, like coffins for children. It's sublimely creepy, and stumbling upon it in the middle of the woods makes it that much more intense. It has a way of gathering silence around it.
Mary Miss' Pool Complex: Orchard Valley, like a number of other sculptures on the grounds, is in need of major repairs. Still, you can explore the winding wood and stone balconies, the empty pool, the patios, terraces and ... concrete bunkers. Is this a rich man's summer party palace or a gathering ground for survivors after the fall of civilization? Take a closer look—it could go either way.
Strange things, glorious things, confusing things. Secrets in the woods. Art you must hunt down to find. Happy hunting.
Laumeier Sculpture Park is located at 12580 Rott. For more information or to download a map of the park, go to laumeier.org
