Intimate Connections
"Razor's Edge" is one of Jill's many sculptures that brings forgotten farm implements back to the land.
AT BEDROCK, ART AND NATURE are yin and yang: seemingly dissimilar forces that are interconnected and interdependent. They are so linked because Bedrock’s gardener, landscape designer, and sculptor is one-in-the-same person, Jill Nooney. Jill and Bob Munger, her husband (and builder of visions), use plants and sculpture in myriad forms to design their landscape, and to complement, draw attention to, and infuse those designs.
Like the granite erratic boulders that dot the northern hardwood forests of New England, this Taoist balance wends its way through the art and nature at Bedrock.
Like the granite erratic boulders that dot the northern hardwood forests of New England, this Taoist balance wends its way through the art and nature at Bedrock.
"Julia" speaks for herself. For example, plants are transitory, subject to the whims (and whams) of nature, to the seasons, to their genetic inner clocks. Plants are pliable: They bend, break, and decay. Yet always, they produce more of themselves, as well as making the very medium in which they grow.
Alternatively, most of the works of art at Bedrock are crafted and welded together by human hands (and tools) from metal to be permanent fixtures: They are individual pieces that are one-of-a-kind (and quite incapable of reproducing themselves).
Another yin: Much of her art is made from a local and abundant resource that has deep ties with this land: discarded and forgotten
Alternatively, most of the works of art at Bedrock are crafted and welded together by human hands (and tools) from metal to be permanent fixtures: They are individual pieces that are one-of-a-kind (and quite incapable of reproducing themselves).
Another yin: Much of her art is made from a local and abundant resource that has deep ties with this land: discarded and forgotten
farm equipment. (Bedrock was a dairy farm from 1845 to 1957.)
In this time of lessening interface with the natural world, here's the yang: Jill’s metal sculptures purposefully remind us of the agrarian age when humans were more intimately connected to this very land.
“A Family Joke”
Jill picked up the pieces of this sculpture in a metal junkyard years ago, attracted to their unusual silhouettes. “Somehow, I happened to store them together,” she explains, “and they got friendly and became a family.” Jill’s input was a beard, made a street sweeper brush; rings around the eyes for emphasis; and the base.
Jill picked up the pieces of this sculpture in a metal junkyard years ago, attracted to their unusual silhouettes. “Somehow, I happened to store them together,” she explains, “and they got friendly and became a family.” Jill’s input was a beard, made a street sweeper brush; rings around the eyes for emphasis; and the base.
One interplay of art and nature that is rather unique to Bedrock is the pure fun and cheekiness that many of the sculptures bring to their surroundings. From the stainless homage to Julia Child complete with steel pearls, to the many whimsical and oversized birds, insects and animals, to the bawdy and shady Dark Woods, Jill and Bob pepper their mature, awe-inspiring, formal gardens with frolicking good fun.
Lastly, sculpture lends a meditative balance to the large sweeps of land at Bedrock. Where the gardens are designed on several axes with long site lines (think the Straight and Narrow, the Allée, and Grass Acre), they are interspersed with sculptural focal points that make visitors pause and absorb what is immediately in front of them.
Lastly, sculpture lends a meditative balance to the large sweeps of land at Bedrock. Where the gardens are designed on several axes with long site lines (think the Straight and Narrow, the Allée, and Grass Acre), they are interspersed with sculptural focal points that make visitors pause and absorb what is immediately in front of them.
Jill and Bob vacationed on Whidbey Island in Washington, where they were met by her son Spencer and his then-girlfriend (now wife), Ali. “We all took a walk on the driftwood-strewn beach, and Ali picked this piece up,” says Jill. She envied it so much that Ali gave it to her. “We bought a big roll of bubble wrap and packing tape, bundled it up, and shipped it on the plane home with us.” He Who Shall Not Be Named now is ensconced dramatically in The Dark Woods among its equally eerie companions.
British artist and author Beatrice Hoffman explains the phenomenon neatly in an essay on art and nature: “...visitors take more time to perceive their environment -- and become engrossed by using their senses of sight, touch, and smell. Rather than merely passing through the garden, the sculpture surprises, intrigues, draws attention from the viewer -- and this awareness then not only rests with the sculpture, but spreads into its immediate surrounding.”
Or, says Jill (a bit more succinctly), “The more you look, the more you see.”
The inter-dependency comes here: The works of art enhance their surroundings, but how much richer are they because of their natural setting? (Would each have as much resonance alone in a gallery?)
In the Digging Deeper post, “Spirit Beings,” from last September, I made mention of the more than 250 works of art installed on Bedrock’s grounds, and discussed the stories and meanings behind just five of them. Here then, are the motivations behind three more. Stick with me...we’ve only got 240-plus more to go!
Or, says Jill (a bit more succinctly), “The more you look, the more you see.”
The inter-dependency comes here: The works of art enhance their surroundings, but how much richer are they because of their natural setting? (Would each have as much resonance alone in a gallery?)
In the Digging Deeper post, “Spirit Beings,” from last September, I made mention of the more than 250 works of art installed on Bedrock’s grounds, and discussed the stories and meanings behind just five of them. Here then, are the motivations behind three more. Stick with me...we’ve only got 240-plus more to go!
“Sleight of Hand”
Like David Blaine, this embodiment of an illusion stands on a garden corner and attracts passing strangers. “It invokes that coin magic trick, along with the one where the coin moves through the fingers one by one,” explains Jill.
The “fingers” are made out of leaf springs (used for suspension in wheeled vehicles), while the “coins” are lifting weights.
Gardens reconnect us with nature, while art in the garden brings mindfulness to ourselves and our surroundings. In this way, Jill’s art reminds us -- in its form, merriment, placement, and the materials used in the making of it -- of the human element in her garden. Nature may bring to mind artistic beauty, but humans can, too.
One terrific way to learn about many of Bedrock’s works of art is to take a free garden art tour with Wendie Adam this Saturday and Sunday, July 15 and 16, at 1 p.m., at our "Threads: A Fiber Arts Festival" Open House.
I'm Lisa Peters O'Brien, a.k.a., the Bedrock blogger. I hope you'll stop in to "Digging Deeper" often, or subscribe here, for behind-the-scenes looks of what makes Bedrock Gardens rock and grow. Is there something you'd like to know? Ideas, comments, and questions are welcome. If you like what you read, please comment and share!
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