“We came whirling out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust… The stars made a circle, and in the middle, we dance.” says Jalaluddin Rumi. And in these words, we find beauty and order through circles, along with their peculiar role behind the way the universe operates, from the electrons that spin around their own axis and the quantized angular momentum which holds them in their places, to gravitational force fields that ripple through time and space. In these words, we also find disorder, entropy, chaos — a sense of being temporary.
The works of Ned Carlson, a rising sophomore at Tufts University, are reminiscent of this dichotomy. “I create pieces only when there is a natural fit between what I gather and my immediate surroundings.” he states on his website. In his hands, the shapes of leaves, natural fibers, and minerals shift to bring out an unusual sense of order, a temporary aesthetic alteration of natural, unprocessed materials.
Being inspired by his take on art, his emphasis on nature and the temporary, I reached out to him to gain some deeper insight into his art practice, the motives behind his work, and advice for his younger self. His words resonated extensively with a great point of inspiration for doing science that I treasure: the inherent beauty and art found in science throughout the structures and quantitative relations it presents.
“I would describe my art as sitting at the intersection between environmental science/research and fine arts, such as sculpture,” he says. “The main style of art I practice is called Land Art/Environmental Art. Much of my work in this sense is exceedingly site-specific and makes use of found natural materials to generate unique forms that play off of characteristics of the location or material. These sculptures are then documented through carefully curated photography and video, meant to capture the essence of each installation. As my work has developed, I have begun to further integrate my interests in design and environmental science into my art; working with a wider variety of environmental topics and materials. This allows me to call attention to certain environmental ills such as the prevalence of invasive species, global warming, pollution, and a slew of other related environmental issues. One such example can be seen in my piece “Reynoutria Cube,” (06.20.2020, 4’x4’x4′, Lansining, NY.), which I made using an invasive plant called Japanese Knotweed alongside a native plant called Goldenrod. I did a relatively detailed research into the biology behind Japanese Knotweed and how it is able to spread so prolifically. This is to say that my work is just as much about the research involved as it is the ephemeral forms that I generate in the field. Most of the art I make is done on location with little planning. However, when constructing larger projects I generally have rough timelines, materials, forms, camera angles, and locations planned.”
As his words further reveal, art and science are not mutually exclusive practices — on the contrary, I believe that it is often the case that art and aesthetics become a prominent propellant in conducting research, and research produces a spectrum of inspiration and a wide variety of novel materials for the artist to benefit from.
“I would say that I make the art that I do out of an admiration and exploration of the natural world. It is also to teach people about the natural world with a focus on the overlooked and underappreciated aspects of each locale I work with. As a result, many times this includes a commentary on the environmental or social issues in most locations, but, I do also make certain pieces simply out of an admiration for the material and environment I am working with.”
When we asked him whether he had any advice for the aspiring artist that is his younger self, he revealed, “I would tell my younger self to believe in his own abilities and to throw himself more into his work, and to strive to be audaciously ambitious with his work. I would also tell him to not get comfortable and to challenge his own art more.”
