The Lightning Field, in images (or lack thereof)

Since artist Walter De Maria completed The Lightning Field in 1977, photography of the work has been strictly controlled. Visitors are not allowed to take photos on the site, and sign an agreement stating as much. Publishers and other media outlets who make a request to reproduce images are (it's fair to say) carefully screened, and approvals, when they're given, generally only grant use of a one or two of the few select images that the artist has officially approved.

Because of The Lightning Field's low visitorship (Dia Art Foundation estimates the figure at only 15,000 people since 1977) most of us know the work only through images. More specifically, most know the work in its most iconic photographic state, with lighting striking. Images like on the April 1980 cover of Artfourm (which featured a special feature on the Field, written and designed by De Maria himself), or the cover of Robert Hughes popular book, American Visions: The Epic History of Art in America. Of course, what most don't stop to realize, is that lightning strikes at The Lightning Field, are the exception, not the rule.

We use those images though because they're more dramatic, but how else can we image this work? Both for those that have never, and may never see it in person, and for those that have been there before. The follow-up question is of course, should we image it at all? But that's for another time.

This is the only image we included in Kenneth Baker's book on the Field. It was taken by the author and used with Dia's and De Maria's permission. Though it hardly does justice to the work or the experience of being there, it is, I think most past visitors to the site would agree, a better representation than the lightning strike images.

Walter De Maria, The Lightning Field, 1977. © Walter De Maria. Photo: Kenneth Baker.

These are images that couldn't have been taken on site (because as I mentioned, photography is not permitted), but in many ways, they're reminiscent of major parts of the experience of The Lightning Field.

  
Earth and Sky

Another perspective, aerial, which I quite like a lot. It's removed enough that it can't really color our vision of the work prior to seeing it, but I think it says something interesting about the work whether you've seen it or not. Something about patience, about careful looking, about the dramatic and inescapable effect our perspective has on our vision and understanding of the artwork, or of any artwork. If we could get a satellite image at sunset to go with it, it would be even better. (Be sure to click on the image below to expand, or download the 1890-pixel-wide version, 1.9MB.)

Unofficial aerial view of The Lightning Field.
Imagery © Digital Globe/Yahoo

Another way to image the work is not to photograph it all, but rather to draw it. I am surprised, actually, not to have ever seen many drawings of the Field at all. Perhaps because it would be hard to draw in any meaningful way, or because people tend to share their photos online so much easier than drawings or sketches. One notable exception is a feature in the Summer 2001 issue of Cabinet magazine that asked a half-dozen artists to "Please Draw That Famous Photograph of The Lightning Field from Memory". That in mind, along with the aerial view above, and a separate thought about an illustrated edition of Rosalind Krauss' essay on the grid in Modern Art; I'd propose another:

Grid drawing of The Lightning Field.

Finally in regards to imaging The Lightning Field, and also from that same issue of Cabinet (the theme of which was "Weather"), there is a terrific interview with photographer John Cliett. Just as the Dia Art Foundation hired Kenneth Baker to write about the work (the result of that commission is the first essay, "1978", in his book), they hired John Cliett to photograph it. The results—not the pictures, of which so few have ever been seen, but the story behind them—are fascinating.

The Lightning Field, 140 characters at a time

To mark our e-book publication of The Lightning Field, by San Francisco Chronicle art critic Kenneth Baker, we're tweeting some Field facts and fancies over the next few days and into the summer. Join us at #lightningfield. If you've visited the work or read the book, we'd love to hear from you. Here's a little from what we've shared the first day:

#lightningfield is comprised of 400 stainless-steel poles arranged in a 1 kilometer x 1 mile grid, at intervals of 220 feet.

The distance around the outer edge of #lightningfield is 3.2427 miles, or about an hour's walk at an average pace.

Visiting each of #lightningfield's 220 poles, would require a walk of more than 16 miles!

The tops of the 400 2-inch-diameter stainless-steel poles form a flat, horizontal plain over the subtly changing landscape #lightningfield

The tallest pole is 26.72 ft, and the shortest is 15.07 ft. #lightningfield

32 companies and 26 people, including De Maria himself, are listed as having worked on the project. #lightningfield

The companies included Expert Machine Co. for the "machined tip" and Yellow Bird, Inc. for "helicopter service". #lightningfield

Reading the L.A. Art World

This fall, in an initiative called Pacific Standard Time, dozens of cultural institutions across Los Angeles are putting on exhibitions and events exploring, explaining and celebrating the Los Angeles art world from 1945 to 1980. This unusual collaboration boasts an amazing roster of shows covering an equally impressive array of artists, art movements and spaces, which is made all the more amazing by the fact that every one of them came from only a thirty-five year timespan and a single geographic location.

For our own unofficial part, we're very pleased to announce the publication of new e-book editions of two terrific books on the Los Angeles art world and its denizens: Jack Goldstein and the CalArts Mafia, and The Beat and the Buzz: Inside the L.A. Art World. Both are by Richard Hertz (former professor at CalArts and graduate director at Art Center College of Design) and both also include contributions from dozens of L.A. insiders.

Not to play favorites, but I have to give a special personal recommendation to Jack Goldstein and the CalArts Mafia. This is a book that when I first read it, really engaged me with artists and ideas that I hadn't known anything about before, and made me want to read more and to see more. What more than that can you ask from a book on art? It also makes not-infrequent appearances on recommendation lists and in interesting articles, and has really been a sort of underground hit since its original paperback release in 2003. I'm thrilled to be able to bring out this new e-book edition and I hope you'll check it out.

As for The Beat and the Buzz, I really need say only one thing: John Baldessari calls it "a page turner". Awesome. Add to cart.

THE START OF AN L.A. ART BIBLIOGRAPHY

Of course, the reading list on Los Angeles art only starts with our two books. There are shelves worth of other great books to read. Here's our recommend list of titles to get you started (alphabetical by author):

The Beat and the Buzz: Inside the L.A. Art World, Richard Hertz

Jack Goldstein and the CalArts Mafia, Richard Hertz

Rebels in Paradise: The Los Angeles Art Scene and the 1960s, Hunter Drohojowska-Philp

Last Chance for Eden: Selected Art Criticism by Christopher Knight 1979–1994, Christopher Knight

Video Green: Los Angeles Art and the Triumph of Nothingness, Chris Kraus

Sunshine Muse: Art on the West Coast, 1945–1970, Peter Plagens

Ed Ruscha's Los Angeles, Alexandra Schwartz

Mr. Wilson's Cabinet Of Wonder: Pronged Ants, Horned Humans, Mice on Toast, and Other Marvels of Jurassic Technology, Lawrence Weschler

Seeing Is Forgetting the Name of the Thing One Sees: Expanded Edition, Over Thirty Years of Conversations with Robert Irwin, and True to Life: Twenty-Five Years of Conversations with David Hockney, Lawrence Weschler

Pop L.A.: Art and the City in the 1960s, Cécile Whiting