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Quote by Robert Smithson

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Robert Smithson, the Collected Writings

This volume gathers the major writings of Robert Smithson, a pioneering figure in the land art movement of the 1960s and 1970s. The collection presents his essays, such as 'The Sedimentation of the Mind: Earth Projects,' along with interviews, proposals, and critical reflections that articulate his conceptual approach to sculpture, site-specificity, and the relationship between art and the natural environment. Smithson's writings often engage with themes of entropy, time, and the industrial landscape, offering a theoretical foundation for his earthworks like the Spiral Jetty. The book serves as a primary source for understanding his artistic philosophy and his influence on contemporary art discourse. more

Author

Robert Smithson
Robert Smithson

Robert Smithson was an American artist known for his land art works. His practice often involved large-scale land transformations and interactions with the natural environment, with iconic pieces such as 'Spiral Jetty' and 'Land Art'. Smithson's art challenged the boundaries of traditional art media and sparked widespread discussions about the relationship between art, nature, and humanity. more

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“No Temple made by mortal human hands can ever compare to the Temple made by the gods themselves. That building of wood and stone that houses us and that many believe conceals the great Secret Temple from prying eyes, somewhere in its heart of hearts, is but a decoy for the masses who need this simple concrete limited thing in their lives. The real Temple is the whole world, and there is nothing as divinely blessed as a blooming growing garden.”

“Speaking the words he had been taught, directing them no longer upward but to the earth on which he knelt, he prayed: 'For what we are about to receive make us truly thankful.' ... he... felt his heart suddenly flow over with thankfulness... like a gush of warm water... All that remains is to live here quietly for the rest of my life, eating food that my own labour has made the earth to yield. All that remains is to be a tender of the soil.”

“He even knew the reason why: because enough men had gone off to war saying the time for gardening was when the war was over; whereas there must be men to stay behind and keep gardening alive, or at least the idea of gardening; because once that cord was broken, the earth would grow hard and forget her children. That was why.”

“After Nicholas hung up the phone, he watched his mother carry buckets and garden tools across the couch grass toward a bed that would, come spring, be brightly ablaze as tropical coral with colorful arctotis, impatiens, and petunias. Katherine dug with hard chopping strokes, pulling out wandering jew and oxalis, tossing the uprooted weeds into a black pot beside her. The garden will be beautiful, he thought. But how do the weeds feel about it? Sacrifices must be made.”