A fascinating excursion today led me to think a bit about value. How we estimate value. What gets valued and what doesn’t? Who decides? I think its a worthy topic to blog on, even if it doesn’t necessary hover around gratitude.
I traveled with a San Jose Institute of Contemporary Art group to Sonoma Country, where a wealthy developer has built about twenty site-specific art installation on his 100 acre ranch. Troubled by the rapidly rising cost of art bought in the 80’s as investments, Steve Oliver and his wife Nancy decided to commission art envisioned and created especially for their ranch. This “hobby” led them on a mystical journey whereby artists come to stay at the ranch for long periods of time (one of the coolest installations is a guest cottage which defies description) to observe the land in various seasons. Then, the Olivers and the artist engage in an intricate decision-making tango to arrive at the final installation. Want white cement? No problem. We’ll use dust from the Italian Dolomites and gravel from Minnesota and so on. I hope you are starting the catch the drift.
One of the installations is a sound sculpture where audio-pipes are connected throughout the property and a selection of water related sounds emerges from manhole contraptions buried on the land. Sound strange? It is. And interesting. At one time, the owner and artist envisioned having the sounds transmitted live from their source (places like Niagara Falls and a train bridge in Cologne, Germany) but months of wading through satellite contracts convinced them to settle for recordings played randomly by computers on the property.
Another installation is composed of massive forged steel blocks distributed across a valley at precise heights to cause the viewer to stop and consider the ascent and descent of the land.
Most interesting to me was the challenge of getting these monolithic steel blocks into place. The only place in America that could do forged steel like the artist required was in Seattle. A two mile long caravan of trucks carrying the 16 steel blocks to the property was required and several bridges on the route had to be reinforced before crossing to insure they would support the weight. Steve Oliver was involved every step of the way and seems to relish the problem solving inherent with these types of pieces.
Each installation has a story — creative, complicated and utterly unique. As I walked a well-tended three mile trek around the property, I was enthralled by the stories of the artists and their vision, amazed by the persistence of the team that executes them, and a bit envious that these folks have truly found their passion.
Steve Oliver wanted to send a big signal to the art world that art should be experienced and enjoyed, not consumed as investment or hidden from view. He valued these pieces enough to spend – literally – millions to develop and execute each, but their value is buried here with the pieces on his ranch in Sonoma. He opens his home for tour to benefit art institutions for about twelve weeks a year. He’s also left the property and sizable trust for its upkeep to the county of Sonoma.
He clearly values what he’s done there and refuses to let the outside world pass judgment on whether it believes this art has value in perpetuity. Good for him!
Boonedoggler 