Blake Conway, the director of Problem Library, and I began entertaining the idea of my involvement with [working] in Summer 2020. My work was evolving into large-scale sculptural forms and the program could support expanding in that direction.

After several months of back and forth with property managers and developers, we found a 1,273 square foot vacant retail space on the ground level of the iconic Mira Tower designed by Studio Gang. It would be the site of my first site-specific installation. 

Delays in construction, permitting, and legal agreements prompted a long planning phase. My aim is to create a piece that will expand on the idea of transformation consistent in my work, exist in direct dialogue with its surrounding environment, and provide a sense of agency to those experiencing it.

I’m immersed in uncovering the history of the area, East Cut/Rincon Hill. The Embarcadero Freeway once passed through the site prior to its dismantlement. The image of a field of stone, suggesting the construction debris of past infrastructures, comes to mind. How hauntingly beautiful it would be to stumble upon one, a rock garden, in the midst of the city. 

Several weeks into the project, an elaborate plan has begun to emerge around the experience of ordinary passersby unexpectedly encountering a rock garden. I imagine it hidden and obscured from the street, a silent monolith amidst the noise of the city.

A distinct feature of the vacant retail space is its non-rectilinear floor plan. Each wall and window offering a unique backdrop and perspective of the rock garden. To heighten drama and intrigue from the street, paper screens will hang from the windows with openings providing framed views into the rock garden. The piece can only be activated if the public is curious enough to engage with it.

By mapping the sight lines from the portals into the space, I can imagine what the perspective will be like from the street. More intersections of lines suggest a larger focal area, or where the gaze will concentrate. The largest intersection point, at front left, is where the primary stone arrangement will sit.  Secondary ones will be placed in the rear and potentially a tertiary one in the front right.

Light is an essential agent in altering the rock garden’s transformation. Filtered natural light during the day and softly illuminated spotlights at night will enhance the depth and shadows.

The space has horizontal LED pendant lamps suspended from a height of 10 feet. They are on a motion sensor, wired to a single switch, with a dimming option. We are not permitted to touch the electronics so are starting to devise ways to work around it.

One thought is to cover all the lamps on the outside of the rock garden in a black gel filter. This will illuminate the rock garden while casting the rest of the space into shadows.

After several weeks of intense planning, we were given the go ahead to move into the physical space. Almost immediately, original assumptions are being debunked. I am adjusting the shape of the foundation to follow the contours of the floor and focal lines from the street. I want the gaze to wander so it’s important that visual elements not be too linear nor predictable. The amount of portals will be reduced in half so the viewing experiences feels focused and not overwhelming. They will also be lowered so that the height of the rock garden is partially visible at a distance from the street. This will hopefully encourage more movement and participation in the viewing experience.

The wood is being sourced from Golden State Lumber. A large trapezoidal area will contain the rock garden and measure a total of 12x22x31′, with the widest side parallel to the street heightening the illusion of expanse. Siding material will be 1’x6’ (net ¾”x5½”) Gorman Elite Pine Board. A raised platform in which the gravel sits will be lined with tarp and constructed of 15/32”x4’x8’ CDX plywood atop 3’x4” supports spaced 2½’ apart.

The intent is for the rock garden to reflect the geology of its surrounding natural environment. Research trips into nature and to local quarries largely inform the gravel and stone selections for the rock garden.

In order to be raked, the gravel needs to meet certain criteria: the size should be 1/8-1/4″, rounded or of uniform consistency, light in color, and be relatively accessible. In the end, we went with 1/8″ crushed granite gravel.

Granite is the most common, abundant rock in California and is widely used as a building material in the construction of freeways, roads, etc. The symbolism between the rock garden being a memorial to past infrastructures and the material being one used to construct existing infrastructures is uncanny.

We will need approximately 5 tons/10,000 pounds of gravel in order to fill the rock garden to a height of 2″.

Perception and experience of the rock garden can be enhanced by the location, height, size, and shape of the portals. Eventually the aim is for the portals to accommodate people of different ages, sizes and dispositions.

Low portals that would be more difficult for tall people but easier for small people (like children) to access. Tiny portals for shy people who want to peek in discreetly without me seeing them. Or ornate designs cut into the portals encouraging the body to move. Above all, to encourage people to have agency over their own experience.

For the first iteration, the portals will be simple circles set below eye level. It will allow the rock garden to be partially visible at a distance from the street. The average person will have to bend a little to peer in.

A challenge of using the overhead lamps in the space is the need for a moving contraption that will trigger the lights on all night. A fan or metronome might work but this will require some experimentation.

As an alternative, we’re rigging our own system of track spotlights that clamp onto the window frames in the same way the portals do. Addison, at Little Giant, is helping us source some heavy duty clamps to create the nocturnal scene.

The rock garden felt like a mere concept, until we arrived at 8am today to unload trucks containing five super sacks, each weighing 1 ton/2,000 lbs of granite gravel, and lumber.

How do I even begin to describe the excitement involved in flagging down traffic, watching a forklift zoom around, pushing gigantic sacks of material through the door. The situation seemed lighthearted and ridiculous to everyone involved. At one point after Hector (of Peninsula Bay Materials) finished unloading the stacks, he offered to unload the other driver’s lumber from Golden State. The two became instant friends. I love that the rock garden facilitates these unexpected encounters.

Today, as friends and family, showed up in groves to meet, laugh, and shovel gravel into the rock garden, it didn’t matter what the outcome would be. The process invited us to come together and bond over an intimate moment in time.

On a whim and without much geological foresight, we set out one morning in search of stones. I knew I wanted something dark, perhaps gabbro or basalt. Little did we know we’d spend the entire day driving along the coastline, digging through landslides, only to find our stones as dusk fell.

The rock garden is designed to be best experienced from the outside. Portals provide unique vantage points in. One facing the front frames a large, lone stone. Another on the side reveals a smaller, companion stone hidden behind the large one. The last looks onto a workshop.

The space becomes a container amplifying the environment around it, trees, traffic, skyscrapers, etc. The stillness of the rock garden juxtaposed with the vibrancy of the city.

Thresholds are important to consider. When I enter the rock garden, I am transitioning into a different state of consciousness. The act of maintenance is quiet, contemplative, and slow. And the act of putting on a uniform reinforces this.

Right now the uniform is immaculate but over time it will accumulate dust, dirt, and various other patinas associated with wear.

Each day when I go in, the same sequence of events occur. I wait for the front desk to let me into the lobby. By now I know almost all of them by name. I go to the mailroom to pickup my keys. I walk back out and unlock my space. I put on my uniform. I get to work.

It was meaningful to build the gravel rake myself. The sounds the wood makes coming in contact with the gravel is indescribable: grainy, crackly when raked into patterns, airy, washed out when pushed and dispersed. I get lost in the minutiae of dust storms and my mind empties.

As I watch people go through the rhythm of their days, I remember how vast the world outside is. And I’m humbled knowing this project is a small part of it.

Materials have memory. When I rake, I leave traces of where I’ve been, which requires me to go back and re-rake. The process of removing myself until no semblance of me exists in the rock garden is a satisfying one.

The first sign of plants in the rock garden was mountain moss beneath the stones. When my parents came, we added small weeds and plants they had brought from their own garden as well as some legacy plants that have been in my family for generations.

Sometimes I wonder if anyone has noticed the rock garden. Only the smudges against the glass (from people pressing up against the windows) provide proof of observation.

Low furniture was constructed in order to ground the space. It allows experiencing the rock garden from both a standing and seated position, which alters one’s state. I find that walking around the rock garden puts one in an active state of mind, while resting slows it down to a more contemplative one. The furniture in the room should accommodate these different modes.

Today while hiking near Mirror Lake, I stumbled upon a strange and sublime sight. Hundreds of rocks stacked and arranged by others who had come before me. I understand the potential disruption of wild space, but for a moment, I couldn’t help but be moved by such a collective masterpiece.