July 17, 2008
The Downward Spiral
Drought reveals a once-submerged art installation, but oil finds may impact the landscape.
by Stan Sarkisov
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Spiral
Jetty
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In
a hypnotizing spin, Robert Smithson examined each turn of the 1,500 feet of the
Spiral Jetty. The camera spins as the helicopters turns with the coil of
"mud, salt crystals, rocks, water" that the earthwork artist had just
completed.
Jutting out from the black rock coast into a dried sea bed of stark white salt,
the Spiral Jetty, an art instillation completed in 1970, is in a completely
different environment from when Smithson used construction trucks to lay out
the six-and-a-half thousand tons of rock, basalt and mud.
"I closed my eyes, and the sun burned crimson through the lids. I opened
them and the Great Salt Lake was bleeding scarlet streaks. My sight was
saturated by the color of red algae circulating in the heart of the lake,
pumping into ruby currents — no they were veins and arteries sucking up the
obscure sediments," Smithson wrote in one of his essays.
Smithson was overpowered by the red water and the black basalt encrusted with
white salt.
Sparkling salt crystals are what are left of the magenta water that used to
surround the Jetty. The entire project submerged under water two years after
completion, but thanks to drought and receding water depths, the Jetty is
plainly visible but has lost most of its red, pink and purple colors.
"Walking on the lakebed felt a bit like poking around another planet. The
whites and faded blues and reds of the landscape seemed more Martian then
Earthly," said Matt Laffey.
Laffey and friend Shannon Harmon, both from Chicago, were on a road trip
through the West and stopped in Salt Lake City to visit friends and to visit
the Jetty.
The two are sitting on the rocks of the Jetty, eating strawberries and Harmon
retells how her college professor first mentioned the art piece.
"Sitting upon it I can't help but think about the ephemeral surface and
then my own temporal existence," Shannon says.
When designing the Jetty, Smithson knew that it would undergo change and might
one day turn into a skeleton of its initial existence. Elements of constant
change and decay — abandoned wooden piers, metal scraps, empty oil barrels and
dried up seagull wings and bones — littered throughout the Jetty site when
Smithson started.
"The Spiral Jetty is physical enough to be able to withstand all these
climate changes, yet it's intimately involved with those climate changes and
natural disturbances," writes Smithson.
When he created this project years ago, it was on an empty site. The site is
still void but change has been projected.
Rozel Point's land, the Jetty's location, yields oil. The Utah Geological
Survey reports that 30 to 50 wells have produced 10,000 barrels of oil since
operation, which ceased in the 1980s.
"Oil! Seriously. It's bubbling to the surface all over the lakebed near
the Jetty," says Laffey. "You could probably fashion some sort of
container from the rusted out junk and leave hundreds of dollars richer than
when you arrived."
The Utah Division of Oil, Gas and Mining awaits additional information to
supplement an application to drill about five miles from the "world
[renowned] earthwork sculpture."
In a February press release the Utah Department of Natural Resources Executive
Director Michael Styler has said that their department "works on a daily
basis to protect new and ancient cultural resources, including the Spiral
Jetty."
The drilling has been met with opposition, and the department has received
thousands of e-mails. Yet right now, it seems to be up in limbo.
"I suggest visiting the Spiral Jetty if not for the beautiful landscape,
then to experience the magnitude of this interactive art piece," says
Harmon.
The art will remain, but the landscape may be altered.