Spring semester of my junior year at Amherst college I was sitting in a small classroom with 12 students and the visiting artist Francis Cape. We would spend most of our class time discussing issues of contemporary art and then Mr. Cape would challenge us to create work that reflected our discussion. One particular afternoon we were focusing on large public art and my immediate frame of reference is a large black geometric steel work called Gracehoper by Tony Smith that sits on the Waterfront of my hometown of Louisville, KY.

To me, that object has always been just one large playground apparatus that everyone tries to climb on. I stated to the class that because of this, I look at all public work as possible scalable structures. Mr. Cape thought this particularly interesting and it made me realize that I walk through life constantly rating the climbability of almost everything that is much larger than me. It was then that Francis Cape challenged me to create a work that would attempt to share this peculiar perspective to the world.

The resulting concept was inspired from Richard Long’s A Line Made by Walking from 1967. I rented a VHS recorder from the media library and strapped it onto my shoulder and head. I positioned myself at the edge of the sports fields of campus, hit record and walked in a straight line. Whatever object or obstacle I encountered I would climb over it. First were the tall chain link fences of the tennis courts and then the backstop of the baseball field. Then over the dugout and up the hill to the gym. I scaled the side of the building to the roof, traversed a few levels and then clamored back to the ground and continued onward. I went up and down a large pine tree in the field in front of the gym and then crossed the street. I walked diagonally across a residential lane until I reached the brick perimeter of the Amherst football field. I climbed over it, crossed the running track and pulled myself up the side of the aluminum bleachers. Across, down the other side, one more short fence and to the end of the practice field and shut off the camera.

The video was 27 minutes of the most bouncy and nauseating footage. (Sorry, no video, still only on VHS.) The only clear imagery came from my moments of contemplation on how to climb the obstacle, or at the top when I paused to catch my breath. The viewing in class elicited a wide response of emotion and reaction. It was all at once rejected and embraced by the fracturing group. My geometric drawings and paintings to this point had never received such a reaction. I had broken new ground by exploring a side of my life that I had never connected with art. But it took me some time to continue down this path.

The following fall semester of my senior year, Amherst had Anne Messner as visiting artist. Following the success of my class with Francis Cape, I cleared my schedule for her class. She structured our meetings by critiquing whatever current personal work we cared to share. I had spent all that previous summer creating these empty steel cubes filled with thin steel cables stretched into undulating curves of three-dimensional complexity.

They were small scale models exploring my interest in dividing up interior architectural spaces with simple line to create an immersive geometric world. For my first project in Ms. Messner’s class, I divided our classroom with twine running from all corners and intersected in the center. Like all my other previous geometric 2D work, the reaction was a yawn. The question to me was always, Why? My answer, I don’t know, I just like it. It was empty and always lead to dead ends.

So for the next project the following week, I went back to climbing. I had not made anything since that first video but my next idea came quickly. I combined my interest in utilizing interior space with my desire to share my perspective as a climber. I took a 100 feet of fiber rope, tied it to the stair rail of the top floor of the Fine Arts building and let it hang down through the stairwell to just above the basement floor.

My hope was that people would think of a climbing rope and if they weren’t inspired to climb it, they could climb the stairs and imagine they were climbing the rope. I wanted to instill that urge to climb that I carry with me everyday.

The response from the class, though brief, was successful. The piece had accomplished its objective. More ideas began to flow and I wanted to move outside. The next week I took some neon orange vinyl marking tape and approached a large beech tree that stands next to the art building. I took a couple rocks to weigh down the end of the tape and I began to climb. Every branch that I used to climb I would wrap once with the tape. By the time I was 40 or so feet into the branches there was an orange mapping of my path. I tied off the end and climbed back down. My experience had been recorded visually and physically.

Green tape used in 2nd iteration of project

My classmates followed me outside as I led them to the tree. I said nothing to prepare them for what they were going to see. The response was great; wonder, shock, disbelief, horror, excitement, and connection. Everyone had some personal memory or experience with climbing a tree. I was on fertile ground. I narrowed my focus to tree climbing and for the first time in my creative life I could not tell if a work was successful until it was viewed by others. This social completion of my work drove me to more and more ideas. I no longer was forced to make an arbitrary decision about when a piece was done. It wasn’t some illusive aesthetic response that forced me to put down my brush. I had these simple ideas and goals that I was trying to accomplish. I wanted people to climb trees, or imagine they were. I wanted to create the desire to climb or give them the view from up in the tree without them having to climb at all. Every project was my attempt to share something about me and my experience of the world and was only complete when interacted with. It changed my entire understanding of what it meant to make art.

More work from my senior thesis: Sculpture of the Climb

Soon to come in Part 2: my post-collegiate lull and eventual resurrection with the Daily Climb project.

A few days later I was browsing my fb newsfeed on my iPhone and saw a tiny profile picture that looked like a nest. I enlarged and there it was. With a great story to go with it too!

Thanks, Joel, for always being a great supporter of my work. Congratulations to you two! I wish you the best in creating your own nest.

The project, the Detritus Orb, is a departure for me from my tree-climbing work. It is loosely related but it was the goal of COPA to push us to make a piece that goes beyond our normal practices. It is unfortunate that the event was an Idea Competition and at no point was there a chance that these projects were expected to be realized. It was just a public display of how COPA would function in the city and bring public art to reality. The jury process is a closed door process and by making it open to the public, they were forced to make the event a demonstration rather than a real juried process for an actual public art selection.

That all being said, I was honored and flattered to be selected by the committee to participate. It was a good practice in conceptualization and presentation. Thanks to all that were behind the scenes, who helped, supported, participated, and attended the event.

The Bernheim Nest is up!

I started the residency at the beginning of October 2011. I knew I wanted to work with the idea of human nests and played with a few ideas before settling on a hornet-inspired design. I set the limitation of using only found materials and tools I already owned.

I wanted the material of the nest to be similar to paper, like a hornet’s nest, and decided on corrugated cardboard boxes. I found most of what I needed (after a few weeks a much searching) at Dine restaurant store off Preston in Louisville.

I began to cut and stack the cardboard with a loose plan in my head of how it would all work out. About 2 months later I had my completed form with bed, window, lights and shelves in the inside. The shape conforms to the shape of my back when I sit up.

Upon my return from the holiday break, I decided to use aluminum cans to cover the exterior of the nest to make it waterproof. I spent the next 2 months cutting and cleaning approximately 2,000 soda and beer cans and tucking and folding them into the cardboard layers like shingles.

The aluminum cans proved slippery and not very secure so my final touch was to use clear packing tape to adhere the entire outer shell together. It was ready for install.

I coordinated with the horticulture crew at Bernheim and selected a Sawtooth Oak just off the main loop that stands next to the Big Prairie. On Monday February 27th, with the assistance of Robert Rollins and Greenhaven Treecare, the nest was installed.

The Bernheim operations crew helped lift the nest and carry out of the Lakeside Studio and onto a trailer where is was place just below the Oak tree. Then Robert, Patti, and Korry from Greenhaven used their crane to strap and hoist the nest into the branches.

They had to trim some dead limbs and make a lot of adjustments to make the nest level. The process took all day. We even had to bring the nest back down to the ground and rework the straps so the nest would be suspended level. Finally the nest was in place and secured with ropes so I could crawl up inside and secure the nest to the tree form the inside.

Even Robert got up in the tree at the end to detach the crane from the nest. I owe Robert and Patti a huge thanks for taking on the challenge of putting the nest safely in the tree!

When we were done and collecting the tools, Jacob Trader a Greenhaven employee, crawled into the nest and tested it out. He’s a much bigger guy than me. After the crew from Greenhaven had left and I was looking at the nest I noticed it was sagging a little in the middle. I’m not blaming anyone…but it actually looks more secure and is settling nicely in its new home.

That afternoon I climbed up the limbs and crawled into the nest to add the door and some other final touches. I also took some pictures from the views out the various windows and peek-holes.

Now all that is left is for me to spend the night in the nest and to make sure it functions well and stays dry and critter-free.

Thanks so much to Mark Wourms, Martha Winans Slaughter and all the members and staff at Bernheim who make it possible for artists to create and visitors to enjoy art in nature. It’s been an incredible 5 months!

Please come out to hear about my experiences and see my latest artwork at the Education Building at Bernheim.

Invite friends and family and I look forward to seeing you there.

If you didn’t get a chance to see my talk, please watch my Flickr slideshow to see the images. Click “Show Info” at the top right of the page to view the captions for each image. Thanks

You can also follow my progress and tree climbs on Twitter @dailyclimb
Or view my portfolio here

04.16.10

El Palo Alto. The redwood that the city is named for. It is a massive tree with two distinctive trunks. It was the landmark used by a large expedition of 63 men and 200 horses on their way from San Diego to Monterey in 1769.

I would like to tell you that I climbed that one. But I didn’t. I climbed another, single-trunked redwood just meters away. Ben stood nearby to watch as I ascended almost 100 feet into the very top of the tree. The branches angled downward and became thinner and bendier as I got near the top. I did my best to stay secure to take the pictures.

Then, once plenty of shots were taken, and the view thoroughly taken in, I climbed down before my arms got too fatigued. My highest climb to date!

04.17.10

A fun day. A drive through more redwoods to a beach with two dogs and one of Ben’s co-workers.

Max

Olive

Then back to Palo Alto to see De La Soul on the Stanford campus for a free (and substance free) concert. In which, we brought mini Mickey’s malt liquor bottles and did our best to conceal till we were tattled on and bolted from the scene.

On our walk out we stopped at the perfect tree for a group climb. Strangely, and without planning, there were a lot of hands in this shot.

Then we went out that night to eat and drink and be stupid and at some point this happened:

04.18.10

Took a long walk that night and found an empty parking lot with a nice row of pine trees along the edge. It was peaceful and quiet and I remember being very aware of every little sound.

04.19.10

Back to Stanford for a nice midday walk. I ambled off the promenade looking for an Eucalyptus tree to climb. One of the 3 tallest trees in the world, next to Redwoods and Giant Sequoias. They were a transplant from Australia to California back in the early 20th Century. They grew fast and tall and were planted as wind breaks in the blustery valleys and hills. They can grow up to 10 feet a year.

I finally found one and took special care to brush all the hanging loose bark away so I wouldn’t slip. This Eucalyptus was rare since it offered me a path up high. Most trees I surveyed had massive trunks but no limbs for many feet.

After climbing down, I walked further through the arboretum to a small patch of rare dessert plants. some cacti had a beautiful flowers on the tops.

Then from there found another massive Eucalyptus to climb up just about 15 feet to write some postcards. Practiced some parkour on an outdoor workout area, then back to Ben’s apartment. Stanford has a very extensive and beautiful campus.

04.20.10

On my last full day in California I went on a long walk with Ben and his girlfriend. Ben joined me in this sprawling tree. The rest of the walk was spent talking about my art career and ways in which I may expand into other markets and increase my marketing practice. It’s nice to have such supportive and helpful friends.

04.21.10

Rain. I packed up my bags and walked to the train station. I picked a tree just past the footpath under the tracks. As I walked up the leafy hill to the tree I fell from the weight of my pack right as someone was walking by. Ugh! The shame.

I threw my pack into the tree and then climbed in after it. I spent my time in the tree reflecting on my whole trip and looking ahead to my life back in Louisville. Then I jumped back down, got on my train onto San Jose Airport, transferred in Las Vegas and then was back home.

What would the future bring? Well, an end to the streak…but more to come on that soon.

After the Redwoods, climbing a little tree in the city just doesn’t seem to have the same grandeur. And now, looking back over a year ago with only my memory to serve as the narrator of this journey, much has been lost. Where I didn’t take pictures I can only guess as to where I climbed. I believe I climbed in front of the Art Museum on the Stanford Campus on the 7th. And I climbed a tree some where near Ben’s old apartment in Palo Alto on the 9th. I believe those are the only holes I need to fill. I was in a strange mind on some days, but as the beautiful California days rolled on I picked up my camera more and more and felt my spirits rise as I searched further for challenging trees.

04.08.10

Here in the Mission District of San Francisco, I climbed on a sunny evening after a long walk around with Rachel.

04.10.10

Ben and I were invited to a pre-game party in the city, then walked to the Giants game. We had the highest seats but thankfully no bloody noses. Without my contacts I would have seen nothing but the people around me. As it was, I didn’t pay much attention anyway. Baseball isn’t my game…but the experience was a good one.

Hopping off the train in Palo Alto, Ben watched as I climbed a tree near the entrance of the long promenade of Stanford’s main campus.

04.11.10

A block or two down University Ave. in Palo Alto. The silhouettes of palm trees around the grand lit house is so foreign to me.

04.12.10

A night walk with Ben and Macy. They talked quietly as I took care of my daily arboreal practice. Florescent lights from the convenient store just next to the tree were too bright but made for easier shots from the high branches.

04.13.10

Ben and I drove through the East Bay and we stopped at this park. This collection of posts is some art piece. No info to tell me what it was about though.

I think this was the day we met Ben’s grandfather, uncle and cousin for a sailboat trip around the Bay. Then to a fancy private club for a glass of whiskey before our nice Italian dinner. If it wasn’t this day, no matter, it was around then. And we all got driven around in a Rolls Royce. Surreal. Plus I was wearing Ben’s sport coat and if anyone knows Ben, he’s MUCH bigger than me.

I also climbed a tree in Palo Alto before we left. It feels good to me to have days where my tree climb wasn’t the most exciting thing I did.

04.14.10

A walk from Ben’s to a nearby playground in Palo Alto with his roommates and a fellow high school teacher of his. The playground had a large concrete slide that was 8 feet wide. It wasn’t very slippery so there were little torn up pieces of cardboard all strewed about that you had to use as a sliding aide. Should have taken a picture of that. Beautiful clear night, however.

04.15.10

Tax Day. I remember driving to the Tesla dealership to see the fancy all-electric roadsters. They were pretty sweet. Along the way we passed a hoard of old white people carrying Tea Party signs and shouting at cars. Blecht.

Later that evening Ben, Macy and I went to a talk on the future of education at Stanford. We walked around the campus and saw some amazing plants in their arboretum. But Ben and I were more interested in trying to get some cool shots of him jumping for his band photos.

And, of course, I climbed a tree that night. Somewhere a few blocks from Ben’s. It was high up, I transferred into a smaller tree on the way down. I remember feeling spry.

This Trip 2010 catch up will soon conclude. I apologize for this long hiatus and very belated report. My relationship with blogging and this tree-climbing project has been a long and ever-changing one. The end is nigh.

Please attend my gallery talk and reception on Thursday April 14th from 6-9pm at Zephyr Gallery.

Please come to the talk to hear more stories about the shoots and how the series was created.

HAUNT

Gallery Talk
Thursday April 14th
6-9pm

Zephyr Gallery
610 E. Market St.
Louisville, KY 40202
502-585-5646

Gallery hours: Wed-Sat 11-6

C.10
03/11/2011
Cherokee Park
4 x 6 in.
dye-sublimation on board

C.12
03/17/2011
Cherokee Park
6 x 9 in.
dye-sublimation on board

Top Image
C.4
03/17/2011
Cherokee Park
4 x 6 in.
dye-sublimation on board

HAUNT

Todd C. Smith &
Michelle Kellond Amos
Exhibition open April 1st – May 14th 2011

Opening Reception
First Friday Trolley Hop
April 1st, 6 to 9pm

Gallery Talk
Thursday April 14th
6 to 9pm

The latest offering from tree-climber artist Todd Smith is part photography, part performance documentation.

Todd climbs into a tree, secures his cocoon on a branch and crawls inside with a light.
In collaboration with Natalie Biesel, the long-exposure photos were composed from secluded Louisville locations, including
Cherokee Park.

Trying to imagine a world where human existence is dependent upon climbing trees,
Smith creates scenarios of a fantastical human-like creature in a pupal stage of development shining
with life from the limbs.

Zephyr Gallery
610 E Market St
Louisville, KY 40202
502-585-5646

Gallery open
Wed – Sat 11am- 6pm

Cocoon Series

C.6
03/17/2011
Cherokee Park
4 x 6 in.
dye-sublimation on board

C.7
02/18/2011
Seneca Park
4 x 6 in.
dye-sublimation on board

C.8
02/28/2011
Cherokee Park
4 x 6 in.
dye-sublimation on board

Top Image
C.5
03/02/2011
Cherokee Park
4 x 6 in.
dye-sublimation on board