GAP 5 Part 1: The Ruins Project

September 15, 2018

On our way toward Connellsville from West Newton, Allen found a treasure along our route. In a wonderful example of serendipity, we rolled up to milepost ~104 and met Rachel Sager, mosaic artist. There is quite a lot of info to relate about this day’s ride along the GAP trail, so I yanked out this story because I found it both compelling and wondrous. I hope you agree that it deserves stand-alone coverage.

Rachel, a native of Southwestern Pennsylvania, had always admired a particular brick building on 10 acres near the Youck River, backed by a significant mountain, and laced with a small creek. Once upon a time, the brick building was used as the office for the Banning #2 mine. When she returned to the area as an adult, the structure was being consumed by the mountain and overgrowth. She bought the property in 2015 to become her home and mosaic studio, but had no idea that an actual coal mine and the accompanying above-ground structures came along with the purchase. “Who knew I owned a coal mine?” She remembers asking herself.

Banning #2 was mined for the high quality bituminous coal for which Southwestern Pennsylvania was so famous at the turn of the 20th century. Among the facts she’s since discovered are: coal was mined, sorted, cleaned, and moved in an organized fashion in her Ruins. There was a forge, a rail track, a tipple, and an office. At the time she took possession, most of the structures were camouflaged by the landscape.

She also discovered several of the names of folks who had died both in the mine and among the working structures of her Ruin. She feels it is important to assure the continuance of the of the structures, so those people can be memorialized in the recovering natural setting in which they died. But she’s not thinking of renovating anything. Simply preserving and enhancing.

Once she and her partner saved the brick building (which has become her home) from oblivion, and as she built her art studio, she delved into the thickets of time and found The Ruins. Read about it in her words here.

PorchBear2353

Ruins2643

Ruins2358

Each room of the above-ground remains had a distinct use and purpose in service of the coal mining industry. Rachel has done quite a lot of research and knows that one of the rooms held a giant, belt-driven exhaust fan used to ventilate the mine nearby, or possibly, to assist in the “cleaning” of the coal brought up from the mine. In this, the confusion is mine, not hers. I have a different memory of her explanation than Jack does.

In any case, the major discovery she made, from an artist’s point of view, was that The Ruins offer a unique substrate for the work of mosaicists. Each wall, lintel, step, ceiling, door frame, and windowsill has its unique character remaining or growing (mosses, lime deposits, water damage, flaking-away surface) which offer “launching points” for creativity, for statements, for memorials.

It’s the sitting in time that has made them a work of beauty. Time has had its way with the stone and brick. Moss covers great swaths of the walls, creating a beautiful decay . . . As an artist who works in mosaic, I am seeing the walls as a canvas. In my first glances, I was thinking of them as blank slates waiting for my brand of mosaic. I could see immediately that as a forager mosaicist who uses native stone, I can respect the history of the place and make use of my sandstone, limestone, slate, and coal as material.

Substrate2652

In a “eureka” moment, Rachel decided to make it a project, learning space, installation, and event venue. Many experienced and learning artists have come to be inspired, taught, and expanded by The Ruins Project; to be instructed in the art and freedom of mosaicking by Rachel (and by each other); to understand how the past can inform and direct creativity and memory today; and to admire the visions of those participating in the project-in-progress. 

Sign2642

Visitors like us get a visual banquet and an oral history during the tour, as well as experiencing being neither indoors nor outdoors, but a bit of both as we wander around and listen to Rachel’s impassioned talk of community, the past, creativity, preservation, and expression. (Tours are by appointment only — see www.rachelsager.com)

RachelSager2355

Among the first things Rachel pointed out to us, at our very feet, was what is called “Red Dog.” It is a byproduct of the mining process in the region, and lies everywhere. Whereas many might simply see detritus, the artist sees foraged material for creation. We witnessed many uses of Red Dog on the walls of The Ruins.

RedDog2379

UnderMtn2656
Beneath these Pennsylvania Mountains.

Next, she pointed out to us a beautiful instance of art serving as a bridge between history and present, between industry and nature. A visiting local artist spent a day foraging materials, considering her vision, and another day studying the “canvas” of The Ruins. The two artists brainstormed and came up with creating a beehive coke oven, which is still in progress, awaiting more bees when the artist returns.

Rachel’s August 29, 2018 blog post offers much more detail about this specific installation and its inception, and is incredibly worth the read.

My next (GAP 5 Part 2) travelogue, with more about our ride through this section of the GAP trail, has more about the coke ovens that you can still see (if you look very hard)—and the process by which coal must be transformed to coke if it is to be consumed at temperatures hot enough for use in the steel industry.

We were impressed by the variety and interesting materials chosen by the various artists and students who have come to learn from The Ruins Project. One room began with a snake slithering along a windowsill (see above) and wound up being their animal room. Another has an unearthed mirror sitting on a ledge. Several had the elements of tools and equipment left as a reminder that the work is ongoing, progressive, and informed by the atmosphere, even though there were no working artists when we were there. Many span inside corners, and one even covers a “z-shaped” interior structure. Here is a collage of inspiration.

I have a particular fondness for chickens, and there were two represented in the artistry we saw:

I commend all the students and artists who shared their creativity and inspiration in this project, and I look forward to all the artistry that is yet to be secured to the remains of the past. I am truly inspired by what Rachel Sager is accomplishing and envisioning here and I hope you will be also. Sign up and take a class (https://www.rachelsagermosaics.com/the-ruins-project/about/) or go by and see Rachel and her passion. Tell any friends you have that are mosaicists or are interested in the art of mosaic. You and they will be inspired, I guarantee it.

ArtistsList2662
This is a permanent and growing list of artists who have taken part in The Ruins Project to date.

We will be listening to the birds, feeling the rich dirt, observing the woods that have grown up around everything, acting as archaeologists when we find the leavings of industry beneath our feet.

Workspace2391

InHerElement2382

One final note: Because we will be visiting Frank Lloyd Wright’s famous Falling Water on Sept. 16, I was impressed with this artwork by Rachel, which I unfortunately, was not able to see in person, but only in postcard form. This 2014 piece measures 36 in. x 24 in., and is composed of Marcellus shale, sandstone, limestone, smalti (sometimes referred to as Byzantine glass mosaic tile), 24K gold smalti, concretions, and ceramic. F.L. Wright, who was so passionately devoted to creations that reflect, resemble, and fit into their native landscapes, would definitely approve, I’d say.

FallingWaterMosaic3MB-2774

“Why? Because this place will feed your soul.”          —Rachel Sager

 

Sunday Kultour

The weather offered us a significant break (actual blue skies!!) on Sunday, October 8, so we set off for a cultural tour of Ini’s sister’s neighborhood, Friedenau. The neighborhood itself was lovely, and for this organized “open house” studio tour, artists and artisans opened their doors to the public starting at 1PM. We had a grand time, and saw lots and lots of strange and beautiful things, met some strange and beautiful people, and thoroughly enjoyed our day. Reminded me so much of the Floyd Artisan Tour event, only for this folks walked or biked to each (where in Floyd, you have to drive, thus the studio/shop participants must offer some decent parking areas).

The booklet/pamphlet itself, produced in support of this two-day event, was impressive.

We didn’t cover the entire neighborhood, but each of the numbered dots is a home, shop, or studio that invited folks in off the street.
We visited both of these places, but I show it here as an example of the published coverage in this significant book, which had only one advertisement that I saw.
Scenes as we strolled around the neighborhood.

Amazing squirrels hereabouts. That soft-focus, almost “air-brushed” red behind the squirrel, which appears disconnected from it, is its long, fluffy tail.

Arch over a school’s doorway. The printed words mean, essentially, “Reap what ye sow.”
An entryway design in terra cotta tiles.

Jack spent much of the day getting all geeky about the variety of scooters parked everywhere. Matthias joined him to admire an old Vespa (I think).
Sculpture or discarded fruit?

I liked the design of this veterinarian’s “sign.”

There were several memorable stops along our way. At this art school for kids (the bottom info in the photo of the booklet page above), the walls were papered with their colorful renderings of (mostly) animals and scenes in their neighborhoods. As we arrived, a young man was having his photo taken standing near the wall where his art was hanging. He shyly responded to Ini’s inquiry that his work was the hawk that I (of course) photographed. He also had one other, but I didn’t see which he pointed to.

Practically next door was the woodworking shop of Michael Wintjen (shown in the top panel of the booklet page above), where he displayed a sampling of unfinished veneer, and the same piece finished in several different final forms. Beautiful wood, but the photos didn’t turn out so you could tell anything about the finishes. Again, Jack went all geeky on us (he’s a clamp nut and Michael had lots and lots of clamps) about matching wood grains and tools.

This was just one of two entire walls filled with clamps. The craftsman was working on a repair of a small box (maybe the housing of a clock?) that was porcupined with clamps. I’ve never seen so many clamps on one collection of wood pieces before.
The woodworker’s wife or partner is a painter in black and white and gray.

We spent the most time in a violin-maker’s shop. The two women there were quite happy to talk about their craft, and we listened and Jack asked a lot of questions while we admired their work.

The artist showed and explained the differences between a Baroque violin and a Classic violin. Much was in German, so I missed most of the gist. Beautiful work, though.

Selfie with Matthias and framed violin.

Found Time

I’m really tired of snow.

But today, an obligation was taken off my calendar because of it. I just couldn’t get there from here. At least, not on time. Had it been an afternoon meeting, I could certainly have gone.

Since it wasn’t and I didn’t, I decided to declare today a “found time” day. Sure, I could have caught up on the “to do” list. I could have cleaned the house or done the laundry. I could have gotten just a wee bit more of a handle on several upcoming deadlines I’m going to have to really hammer soon. (Noticeably not among the options = shoveling snow. No way.)

I could have taken one more step toward finishing out the last week of falconry season in style by flying the birds. Not really too smart, after all, though — the wind was such that they would have been blown into Franklin County, I expect.

I could have done any of those things. But I didn’t.

I decided to have a day to myself, with no gotta do’s, only wanna do’s.

So I sat down with a new toy and played.

It’s a digital pen and USB tablet, gifted to me from a very generous friend, Leigh Rainey (thanks, Leigh!). I was wondering how to get used to it. I’ve never been much for creating something out of thin air, preferring instead to use a model, so to speak. So I checked out some of my fave printed B&W photographs. I stumbled upon one that I’d taken a long time ago, on another day when late March dumped a layer of snow on us in Meadows of Dan, and thought to myself, “How appropriate.” So I photocopied it with the setting on “light” and studied it. The image really took me back.

Back to when I was working at a horse farm in Floyd. We used the photo’s subject trailer to haul manure and sawdust to our garden, after I’d hauled each horse cookie out of the stalls. Many days, we’d park the trailer at the barn so the horse s**t could be wheelbarrowed straight from the stalls to the trailer (instead of having to pitchfork it from the steaming manure pile into the trailer, to then haul to our garden/compost pile at home).

It took me back to that March snow, sometime in the 90s, before I had a digital camera. That was a warm snow; heavy and wet. It lasted only a few hours (as opposed to this, which fell yesterday, 7 fluffy inches, with another inch overnight and drifts along the driveway of 18 inches or so; and looking forward to continued sub-freezing temps for another day and night “they” say).

And when I sat down with the pen-and-tablet, it took me back to when I was high school age, and had loved pen-and-ink drawing. I haven’t done much of that since — tried a couple of things on the iPad, but you gotta keep your hand floating above the surface with my generation of iPad in drawing mode. That’s not only imprecise and fiddly — it’s tiring.

This wonderful thingie Leigh gave me is truly fun and almost-but-not-quite-exactly like a pen and pad of paper. It is pressure sensitive, just like real life. It does, however, make much more noise than the scratching of a thin nib on paper.

I’ve spent all day experimenting; creating and discarding layers; mapping out how the “paper” will be arranged with which grays/layers/nib widths would go where. After quite a few false starts and do-overs (I love being able to use layers and to save the bits I like rather than tossing the entire piece of paper out), I finished what I think is my first digital pen-and-ink artwork.

I hope you like what I finally came up with — gotta say, it was fun. Now I’m all inspired to get back to pen-and-ink — only at the digital level, though (I’m such a techno-dweeb). I just don’t want to go back to those frustrating high school days using ink, pens with thousands of expensive nibs (that need cleaning every time you’re done, and sometimes fail altogether), and paper with no do-overs.

Not sure how I’ll find the time, though.

Thanks again, Leigh, for the inspiration and the tools.

And okay — thanks, universe, for the snow. Really ready for spring, but the Found Time has been glorious.

Image

Here’s what the trailer looks like today:

Image