Amy Wendland

Durango, Colorado

“I seek to humanize the natural world, and naturalize humans. I wish to remind the viewer to respect the earth, walk lightly, thank the universe for wonders known and unknown.”

Amy Wendland’s practice is inspired by plants. Through them, she creates a narrative about the intersection of humans and the natural world. Each of us may experience and perceive plants in different ways, whether through culturally applied meaning, symbolism, or scientific understanding. Her artworks address the various ways in which we give meaning to plants, investigating both the scientific and social aspects of nature.

In her works, Wendland uses herbarium samples which were deaccessioned from Fort Lewis College in Durango, Colorado. She includes both plants and their labels, telling us where and when the plant was collected, as well as who collected it. For example, she adheres a narrowleaf cottonwood branch from 1968 to her paper, drawing fresh leaves, catkins, and bark found in the same area which the branch was originally collected.

While conducting field work for her botany series, Wendland became acutely aware of the surroundings where she found plants. For scientific accuracy, she records soil and rock types, companion plants, exposure and altitude. And she always finds trash. From the side of Old Highway 3 in Durango, Colorado to the high valleys of the Tien Shan mountains in Uzbekistan. Where she finds plants, she also finds evidence of human disregard.

1959 Burn, 2018

Digital print

1959 Burn examines wildfire ecology. In the original work, the Spineless horse brush herbarium sample was collected from the 1959 Morefield fire burn area. Intact forest duff was rendered in paint and pencil, while the plant was drawn by burning the paper, illustrating the cycle of growth, catastrophic change, and renewal.

Courtesy of the artist

Supplanted [invasive, non-native], 2019

Digital print Botanical manifest destiny. The herbarium sample in the original work was obtained from a former American Indian boarding school, now Fort Lewis College. Introduced to eastern North America during the colonial era, bull thistle migrated westward in the 1800s. Cirsium vulgare’s vigorous adaptability pushed native plants to near extinction.

Courtesy of the artist

This narrowleaf cottonwood branch was cut from a tree in 1968. Fifty-two years later, fresh leaves, catkins and bark were collected from the same area. Rendered from observation directly on the surface of the sample, the drawings are a resurrection, a redux of life and color to the ancestor tree.

Courtesy of the artist

Amy Wendland

Durango, Colorado

Roadside: Penstemon barbatus and Found Glass, 2022

Watercolor, colored pencil, found glass

Roadside perennials: beautiful plants and discarded trash. I found this dormant Penstemon barbatus on a frosty February morning, State Highway 3, Durango, Colorado. Below was a broken bottle. Looking closely, I saw it read: design pat. Feb. 16th, 1885. The plant is perennial, the trash eternal.

Amy Wendland

Durango, Colorado

(top)

Trash found while botanizing, 2022

Found trash

I began collecting the debris I found, dutifully recording location and date like some sort of obscene category/ line on an herbarium label. This spring I completed the first piece in this “trashed” series: Roadside - Penstemon barbatus and Found Glass.

I found the dormant Penstemon barbatus on a frosty February morning. Below was a broken bottle. Looking closely, I saw it read: “design pat.’d Feb. 16th, 1885.” I lovingly rendered the penstemon and mounted the trash below. Later that July, heavy rains washed the hillside away and the plant was gone. But the glass remained.

(bottom)

A photograph of Paeonia intermedia, found high on a snowy mountainside in Uzbekistan. Next to it was a lid, cut free from a can with a knife. Translated, the Cyrillic text reads “Russian Army Super Food.”

Courtesy of the artist

Courtesy of the artist