Through his exhibition Human Nature, Sander meditates. on the separation between humans and nature. He believes adamantly that, if we are to survive, the environment must be our primary issue. "You have to live your time and make a decision. What is your responsibility?" asks Sander.

The installation features three architectural components-Fishhouse, Beaverhouse, and Bathhouse. Using a wide variety of found organic forms and constructed materials, Sander offers the viewer three distinct sensory experiences, each with many symbolic references, each holding space for the viewer's contemplation.

Fish/house speaks of the container of time and the socialization of the human soul. Its roof is ash- and beeswax-coated boat, overturned and Beaverhouse comments on our calculated, often ruthless exploitation of nature. The roof-an abandoned beaver den-is supported by a log frame of poplar felled by beavers. Underneath sit seventy government-issue file drawers, each containing a beaver skull. The skulls were discovered by friends of the artist at a remote woodland site where a long-ago trapper had tossed the slaughtered creatures. "It was a terrible place," Sander says.

Beaverhouse reveals a chilling irony: compartmentalization brings death, not safety. The illusion of separation allows the ongoing mistreatment of the planet. The writer Theodore Roszak calls this "the epidemic psychosis of our time" and warns that "a culture that can do so much to damage the planetary fabric that sustains it, yet continues along its course unimpeded, is mad with the madness of deadly compulsion" (interview with art critic Suzi Gablick).

The third component of Sander's Human Nature is more hopeful, suggesting that we can find our way back, we can remember. Bathhouse is roofed with a large aquarium containing live fish and plants. It offers seating-a chair standing in a small reflecting pool that, to the artist, signifies human consciousness. The pool and chair beckon. The viewer must choose. To stay outside is literal separation; the fish remain mere reflections.

"Can we give up our isolation?" asks Sander. "Can we find our way to harmony? Artists like Sander and writers like Abram help us see that an affirmative answer requires us to honor the reciprocal relationships among the living beings of Earth. Sander will continue to devote his art and life to advocating for nature, and he invites us to join him in holding that intention, so that together we can create a new paradigm for living.

Cynde Randall

Minnesota Artist Exhibition Program, Minneapolis Institute of Art, Mpls, MN

Fishhouse

Fishhouse is roofed with a lake Superior fishing boat from the 1920s, resting on a four-post timber-framed structure. The upper surface of the roof-boat is covered with beeswax and ash. Three hundred and sixty-five Smoked herring encased in resin hang underneath the boat. Toward the front of the boat, a windowlike opening lets viewers look into the hull.

Within the hull, a TV monitor with a split screen shows synchronized video images. The left half shows a triangle with an oval above it symbolized male and female. A hand traces "z" shapes over and over until they form a schematic fish. The sound of the graphite scratching amplified draws viewers to the window. The right half displays my own head covered in ashes.

I spit on my hand and slowly wipe the ashes away. The sound of spitting is synchronized with the drawing sound, creating a two-part rhythm.

The floor of the fishhouse is a steel ramp in the same shape as the boat, like a shadow, the ramp rises up to 24 inches on the far end. At the upper end stands an angled table holding a number of paintings and panels. Each picturing either two smoked herring or a human couple. At a distance from the table at the ramps lower end is a single empty chair. The angled table resists sliding downward towards the chair.

Beaverhouse

A log frame of poplars felled by beavers supports a roof made from an abandoned beaver den. The chewed-off ends of the poplars rest on-the floor. Underneath the roof, seventy file drawers from an old green metal government file cabinet are stacked in seven columns. In the open back side of each file drawer is a beaver skull. The label holders on the fronts of the file drawers contain different photos of elements of human society.

The beaver, a builder, dams and regulates water out of natural instinct, in the process of creating new habitats. The roof is a metaphor for nature in its entirety and defines the artwork's space. The front of the file-drawer columns speaks about human society and how we have separated ourselves from our natural selves and nature. I chose the beaver as a metaphor for nature because, once plentiful in the Arrowhead region, beaver was nearly decimated by trapping to supply fur for high fashion in Europe. In some areas, the trapping of beaver is still a source of income.

Bathhouse

Four steel pillars support a flat roof of sheet metal. In the center of the sheet metal roof is a lighted aquarium containing live fish. Directly underneath the aquarium a metal chair stands in a black pool of water, the same size as the roof. Viewers can take off their shoes and walk barefoot through the water to the chair. A person sitting in the chair will see, in the dark water of the pool, his or her own reflection combined with that of the lighted aquarium. Large (3x4-foot), bird's-eye view, black-and-white photos of a human figure swimming in Lake Superior surround Bathhouse.

Walking in water barefoot to the chair, feeling wetness on one's own skin, sitting underneath live fish, is direct experience. In contrast, looking out at photos, even photos depicting a human in nature, is a second-hand experience. The cold steel structure speaks of industrialization and detachment, but in the pool of consciousness, people see their own reflections combined with nature (the aquarium). This triggers an inner dialogue, raising questions of personal relationships with nature. Is it inevitable that humans will always be separated from nature by virtue of
consciousness? Can we step out of our isolation? Will we find our way to harmony with nature? How are we each responsible?

THE

MINNEAPOLIS

INSTITUTE
OF ARTS.

Minnesota Artists Exhibition Program
2400 Third Avenue South
Minneapolis, Minnesota 55404

As the crickets soft autumn hums
is to us
So are we to the trees
as are they
to the rocks and the hills.

~Gary Snyder~