APRIL SURGENT IN THE SPACE SEPARATING TRAVER GALLERY October 2019
F o u n d i n the beauty of the wor ld A n e ase that sl i ps through the mind l i k e t h e ever-changi ng surface of the ocean W h e r e there i s al w ays som e thing t o d r e am about
APRIL SURGENT IN THE SPACE SEPARATING TRAVER GALLERY OCTOBER 2019
Wind Sweep, 2019 17 x 25.5 x .75 inches
IN THE SPACE SEPARATING OCTOBER 3 - NOVEMBER 9, 2019
It is a quintessential Pacific Northwest morning on Lopez Island as I write this. The morning fog is slowly lifting off the water, clinging to the trees for a few moments before giving way to blue August skies. In this picturesque landscape it is easy to forget for a moment about all the political and social tumult that soaks our 21stcentury lives. To look out at the Salish Sea at high-tide, you might think that things here are as they ever were. But they are not. This ecosystem, all ecosystems, are forever changed and changing because of us. Our human lives—our news cycle, our urban experiences, our economy, and our politics—tether this sea to us inextricably. It is the potency of this relationship that has captured April Surgent’s interest. For more than a decade, she has explored the human experience in the environment. With her hand-engraved portraits of landscapes, animals, and people, she enables us to come with her on an emotional journey to remote, majestic, fragile places and invites us to recall our own experiences; the moments of poetic beauty, sublime awe, and quiet solitude that endure in our memories. Most importantly, April asks us to pay attention—to see with our eyes and our hearts—the profound impact we have on this planet, and, in equal measure, the deep and profound impact it has on us. April Surgent’s work is as powerful as it is beautiful and it is with extraordinary pride that we present April’s newest exhibition, In the Space Separating, at Traver Gallery.
Sarah Traver Director, Traver Gallery
The Stark Beauty of a Planetary Landscape Diptych Installation, 2019 18 x 66 x .75 inches overall; 18 x 12.75 x .75 inches each diptych
I t wa s a b e a u t if u l mo rn in g . C le a r a n d st ill a n d lo vel y . Moun t a in s silh o u e t t e d c risp a g a in st a b rig h t b lu e sk y . Perfectly re f le c t e d o n t o t h e u n b ro ke n su rf a c e o f t h e wa t er. B rig h t . C le a r. I a m g ra t e f u l f o r t h is d a y .
In the space separating what we have taken and what we will leave behind. There is nothing in this world as inanimate as we imagine it to be. The natural world, the beauty of life, and all things living inspire my work examining our relationship with nature and the intricately laced complex of all ecosystems. While urbanization gradually disengages us from the natural world, my work aims to cultivate and foster environmental consciousness by exploring and sharing what I learn from time spent in wilderness. A deep love for the sea was instilled in me as a child. I grew up on and around the great Salish Sea. A lifetime of observing the declining health of our oceans has turned me to science for answers, and over the last six years, I have collaborated with scientists from around the Pacific to learn about global warming and its impact on ocean ecology. Warming sea temperatures, ocean acidification, overfishing, and pollution are all taking their toll on one of the Earth’s most precious natural resources. This body of work was inspired by time I spent assisting a US Geological Survey research team in south-central Alaska. The research was spurred by an unusual mortality event of Common Murre (a circumpolar seabird) in the northeast Pacific Ocean in the winter of 2015/16. Our team conducted at-sea bird surveys, collected water samples, and trawled for forage fish from a converted fishing vessel in lower Cook Inlet and Kachemak Bay. As we cruised the inlet, the surrounding landscape was ever-shifting, revealing the unparalleled beauty that can only be found in nature. This work is a reflection of my experience as described through the landscape.
Firmly believing in the cultural value of traditional trades and utilizing our histories to inform the present, I use the craft of glass engraving as my primary form of artistic expression. Wheel engraved glass has historically been controlled by the strict rules that many traditional crafts bear and has all but become obsolete in the twenty-first century. By practicing the craft of glass engraving and pushing the historical limitations of the technique, I am preserving a rich tradition while innovating it. In an era when the world is experiencing immeasurable transformation, an engraving in glass becomes an archival record. In a time when we store our histories in clouds, an engraving in glass takes a passing moment and saves it as a tangible object. When organic life is expected to move at a digital pace, the very act of engraving becomes a performance. I am a custodian of the environment and a steward of a dying heritage. And in this slow and meticulous craft, I am reminded that though the hyper speed of the 21st century may disagree, it is OK to Stop. Look. See. Listen. Smell. Touch. Breathe. Think. Learn. Change.
April Surgent, August 2019
Suspended in the Atmosphere, 2019 28.5 x 28.5 x .75 inches
Ice Field; Anonymous, 2019 17 x 25.5 x .75 inches
A Moment, Forever Ago, 2019 17 x 25.5 x .75 inches
Iliamna, 2019 17 x 25.5 x .75 inches
A few words on how April came to visit Cook Inlet, Alaska: A few years ago, during 2014-2016, ocean waters in the Pacific Northwest and the Gulf of Alaska underwent a long period of unusual warming. A large, thick blanket of water overlaid a vast region of our continental shelf and it was dubbed “The Blob” for its unusual size and shape. The impact of this marine “heat wave” on coastal marine ecosystems was profound, and still under investigation. As a marine biologist working for the U.S. Department of the Interior, USGS Alaska Science Center, I was drawn in to study the response of seabirds and forage fish to the heat wave. Working with colleagues from southern California to the Bering Sea, we documented the decimation of forage fish stocks and the subsequent starvation and die-off of several marine birds and mammals, as well as wide-spread reproductive failures. The seabird species most affected was a close relative of the extinct Great Auk known as Common Murres, whose populations lost about a million birds to starvation and exhibited complete breeding failures at a dozen different colonies throughout the region. As part of our studies, we focused on seabird colonies in lower Cook Inlet, Alaska, where we had previously collected data on bird and forage fish populations during a relatively “normal” period of ocean climate in the 1990s. The local landscape reeks of time and climate change. On the one hand, local fossil beds formed 160 million years ago speak of warm, tropical oceans and fern covered landscapes, while today, glacial ice fields lay on mountain slopes adjacent to our study colonies and feed icy-cold freshwater into already frigid subarctic seas, blanketing us in bone-chilling cold even during the summer months of July and August.
In this setting, we find ourselves engaged in a present-day effort to determine how the largest marine heat wave ever recorded in the North Pacific led to the greatest die-off of seabirds ever observed. Temperature and time are variables of great biological importance, and in Cook Inlet, our landscape frames the picture in which we work to find answers to a pressing question of our day: “What may we anticipate about the impact of future global warming on our coastal ocean wildlife?” In the middle of these studies, a colleague in California drew my attention to April Surgent, noting that a) she was an artist whose interpretation of previous exposures to wilderness landscapes was, quite literally, etched passionately into her work; and, b) she happened to live and work just a few miles away from my home in Port Townsend, Washington. Never one to question the proverbial “gift horse”, I invited April to join my research team on a cruise in Cook Inlet, Alaska to assist us with our surveys of birds and fish, and to soak up inspiration from the working environment for possible future artistic endeavors. In the field, and now in this exhibit, I see that April has exceeded my expectations on both accounts. Here, she draws us into the primal world of ice and rock, as it once existed and still exists today in secluded corners of the world. I am reminded, as I gaze at April’s etchings, that we are all together on an extraordinary planet, which we would do well to preserve. John Piatt Research Biologist, USGS Alaska Science Center, Anchorage, Alaska
Clinging to the Day, 2019 16 x 24.25 x .75 inches
Into the Space Separating, 2019 25.25 x 25.25 x .75 inches
M em ory. Vibrant colors faded . K e e p in g t ime .
The answers to all of man’s greatest questions can be found quite plainly in nature. And once you see it, the beauty of life is everywhere and in everything.
APRIL SURGENT IN THE SPACE SEPARATING TRAVER GALLERY OCTOBER 3 - NOVEMBER 9, 2019 all photography and artwork by April Surgent Photographs taken during a USGS Alaska Science Center research cruise onboard RV Alaskan Gyre in lower Cook Inlet and Kachemak Bay, Alaska. Photographed: Research Biologist John Piatt, Wildlife Biologist Sarah Schoen. Wildlife biologist Caitlin Marsteller. Not-Photographed: Research Ecologist Mayumi Arimitsu. Captain Paul Tate. Artist. copywright © April Surgent, 2019
110 UNION STREET, #200 SEATTLE, WA 98101 206.587.6501 TRAVERGALLERY.COM
110 UNION STREET, #200 SEATTLE, WA 98101 206.587.6501 TRAVERGALLERY.COM