Walter de Maria: The New York Earth Room

Walter de Maria: The New York Earth Room

by Victoria Kim

Bemusement and wild fascination might bloom when a viewer is first faced with Walter de Maria’s bizarre piece of art, “The New York Earth Room.” His creation is, quite literally, a room filled with black and moist layers of soil. Those who walk into this place become amused, because no one expects to find a room full of earth in the middle of New York City — the concrete jungle. After the departure of bewilderment, nerves and senses become more perceptive, as they gradually suck in the humidity that wraps around one’s body. Some might find the room rather muggy, however, not necessarily unpleasant: this feeling of clamminess peculiarly combines with the subtle fresh scent that lingers in the air. And then, eyes move on, to notice the smaller details of the room.

The first and the most obvious fact: the wall is stunningly white and the earth is potently black. This binary opposition between two monochromic colors creates a sharp contrast. These two contrasting colors dichotomously separate white from black, and black from white, thus establishing a horizon between the two. The presence of this horizontal line sets a rather stable, serene atmosphere. This horizon is accompanied by other opposing forces, entities that retain vertical qualities: two white columns that stand in the middle of the room, and vertical frames of the eight windows that bring light into the room. Even the materials that constructed this piece of art retain dualities; if the earth that serenely lies on the floor is a natural and organic matter, the wall consists of artificial and inorganic elements such as concrete, cement and paint. Therefore, one might reasonably argue that Walter de Maria’s “New York Earth Room” retains numerous binary oppositions. Interestingly, de Maria’s art conveys the similar force that hibernates inside life, the existence of dualities that both brighten and darken the lives of human beings. Life and death, justice and injustice, right and wrong, honesty and dishonesty, virtue and transgression, love and hate — both the splendor and dimness in human experiences, parallel the stunning contrast between the black and white of de Maria’s “New York Earth Room.”

Another room exists within the Earth Room. Curiosity mounts. This smaller space lacks a door, but a perfect square opening allows a viewer to peek inside: no surprises, it is full of dirt as well. But, can one be so sure? After all, this square peephole provides only a glimpse of the room interior; a panel of white wall stands to block most of the view. How can anyone be so sure that dirt is the only entity behind that wall?


Perhaps, through this earth sculpture, de Maria is pointing out the precarious attributes of unexamined presumptions which stem from the arrogance in human nature. Just because a person is seeing part of something does not necessarily mean that he is acknowledging the whole. Maybe, Maria aims to convey a similar view which coextends with that of Plato. In his philosophical text, The Republic, Plato introduces a rather peculiar and bizarre image, more commonly known as the Allegory of the Cave. Plato opens this allegory with the detailed description of the people who live in an underground cave, whose “legs and necks in bonds so that they are fixed, seeing only in front of them” (Plato 193). These people are unable to “turn their heads all the way around.” In other words, their perspectives are limited; Plato highlights the danger of observing the world through a restricted view that prevents an individual from acquiring truth and enlightenment. Likewise, the simple square opening of the wall tricks people to believe that they are seeing the entirety of de Maria’s artwork, while they are only given part of the view. Thus, this artist attempts to show the important but often neglected truth in human life, that seeing is not equivalent to knowing. In de Maria’s worldview, observing through a perfect square would not necessarily show a perfected, completed truth. I will call this room the “room of ambiguity,” as this space refuses to reveal its content as a whole.

Frankly, the obvious irony lies in the fact that de Maria chose a site in New York City to construct an artwork that consists of a natural matter. After all, the undeniable reality is that concrete roads and buildings cover up the majority of the ground surfaces in New York City: earth is a rare entity in New York. Upon seeing this room full of dirt emitting the long-forgotten scent of nature, New Yorkers are intrinsically reminded of trees, fields and forests that they rarely get to see. They might expect to see the seeds of life growing on this earth, but their expectations are not fulfilled: the earth is completely devoid of green. A sense of odd dissatisfaction emerges; something is missing. Reaching out and touching the dirt allows a viewer to know that this earth is good, moist top soil. Looking up at the ceiling, he will find pipes that are likely to provide water for this earth on a regular basis. After all, the New York Earth Room has been opened to the public since 1980, and this sign of dampness indicates that someone is providing care for the earth. Yet, whether intentional or unintentional, nothing is growing in this room. Matter taken from nature is protected by concrete walls; provided with artificial rain; and, even sunlight is filtered through the glass panes of man-made windows. In other words, the soil is the single most isolated substance within this room. Is de Maria suggesting, without a sound, that a mere imitation of Mother Nature is never able to produce life like the genuine nature itself? However, even while asking the question, no certainty in contained in this inquiry; after all, the “room of ambiguity” that waits behind the square opening warns its observers about the danger of making presuppositions without knowing.

Paradoxically, the simplicity of de Maria’s “New York Earth Room” becomes the cause behind the doubts that emerge from his art. The twist of binary oppositions and dualities in life adds heavy complexity to the Earth Room, while the perilous characteristics of presumptions are poignantly reflected through the simply-designed opening square. If one desires to see anything other than a pile of dirt from de Maria’s work, one should resist the temptation of limiting one’s vision within the square opening that is available; a viewer might be able to find something much more than a mound of earth, if he can escape the trap of presumptions that constrains and restricts his perspective.

References:
De Maria, Walter. The New York Earth Room, 1977. Dia Art Foundation, New York.
Plato. The Republic of Plato. Trans. Allan Bloom. New York: Basic Books, 1991.