m a r t e n   b e r k m a n

the ecology of perception

sensibility vrs_v.html
remote sensibility ivrs_iv.html
remote sensibility iiirs_iii.html
remote sensibility iirs_ii.html
remote sensibility irs_i.html
apostrophes in timeapostrophes.html
trompe d’oeiltrompe.html
cascade of lightcascade.html
silence in the sea of cortezcortez.html
dancing shadowsafrica.html
chasms of silencechasms.html
two extremesextremes.html
early workearly_work.html
sensibility virs_vi.html
chasms of silence/abîmes de silenceabimes.html
the easel/le chevaleteasel.html
projection intérieure projectionpip.html

Remote Sensibility VIII

the ecology of perception

multichannel stereo 3D moving image installation

durations 3-45 minutes

dimensions variable

1st image: wall projection moving image collage including “I am a Mountain” sculpture by Sandra Storey; floor parallelogram projection including “navel as centre of creation - Life Line” by Cornelia Osztovits
2d image: two channel stereo 3D moving image projection, scene including dance improvisation by Michaëla St-Pierre 
3d image: photographic panorama “Dechenla” including excerpt  from “Lands of Lost Borders” by Kate Harris

Gallery installation photography by Mark Kelly
Earth and moon  image courtesy NASA

For a background to Remote Sensibility, visit herehttps://www.depthoffield.ca/rsbkgnd.htmlrsbkgnd.htmlshapeimage_49_link_0shapeimage_49_link_1
murs intérieursmurs.html
Hart to Heart:
Erratic Silencees.html
remote sensibility viirsvii.html
sensibility viii

Remote Sensibility VIII : the ecology of perception


to our elders

our astronauts

our artists

As I walk outside early in the morning, I see the moon defined as a sharp crescent, and stars still visible through the curtain of atmosphere, peeled back by darkness. Life is stilled in winter’s vacuum of energy, and yet it awaits, fecund, ready to burst forth in spring.

How can we be arguing about whether we need to care for this delicate balance of elements which makes life possible, when every night a curtain lifts to show the beautiful—but mostly uninhabitable—universe around us, replete with forces of mass and energy that make us smaller than mites on a moose? It seems this happens when we are not aware, when the depth of life, and the universe, are beyond our perception, and our hearts.

When the future of the Yukon’s Peel watershed, and of the traditional territories and spectrum of values it cradles was being determined, a story unfolded: there was a safe place created for many voices to be heard, and the many layers of meaning in the land became tangible, loud and clear, like the sky this morning with twinkling light from distant suns.

The Peel Watershed brought us into alignment with the principle championed by Yukon First Nations, “together today for our children tomorrow”. I draw such inspiration from this. The only resilient solutions are inclusive ones, and this inclusivity ensures the wisdom from all perspectives is heard.

Over half of humanity is now urban. Industriousness is an intrinsic part of human nature, to which incredible ingenuity and creativity are applied. Yet industrial culture is now of a scale where our nature orphans us from the rest of nature. Are we starved of the diverse perspectives which ensure an appreciation of the whole? Imagine if the creativity and industriousness that we apply to our widgets and web consciously included the larger living system we are a part of? There is no limit to how well we can live with all of life on earth, when our hearts and awareness are connected to it.

What is essential to opening our hearts to what our manufactured world can isolate and exclude? It seems that inclusivity of perspectives is key, and that includes perspectives which lead us to wonder and beauty. Who unlocks the door for us? In my experience, our elders share the profound perspective through time. Our astronauts have the profound perspectives from space. These are essential medicine for our hubris. And our artists share perspectives from profound sensibility, creating the sensual bridge between the world we create, and the rest of life to which we belong.

In Remote Sensibility VIII, I respond to what the land, and the work of my contributors and collaborators, inspires. It is as though our works are articulating an essential deepening of how to see, feel, know all of life on earth from the vantage point of our manufactured spaces:

the ecology of our perception.

marten berkman