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This Thanksgiving, will clean drinking water be one of the things you give thanks for? Perhaps you wouldn’t think of it, but visual artist Christine Destrempes would. She’s created a delicate, even shimmering, installation piece that drives home a devastating truth. Part of her “Art for Water” series, the piece, entitled 13,699, represents the number of people who die every day from lack of access to clean water.

Christine, please tell us about how your installation 13,699 came to be.

About seven years ago I read an article in The New Yorker by William Finnegan called “Leasing the Rain”, which was about the global effects of water privatization in general, but specifically about a village in Bolivia where the villagers, with technical help from an international aid organization, built and paid for their own well to supply clean water to their village. The Bolivian government sold their well to U.S.-based Bechtel Corporation and, as a result, the villagers had to pay 25% of their monthly income to buy water from the well that they built. This article haunted me because it was where I learned that more than 5 million people die from preventable, water-related diseases every year because they do not have access to clean water. I did further research about the global water crisis, and the more I read, the more alarmed I became.

Two years ago one of my monotypes, an abstracted waterfall, made it into a group competition at the Essex Art Center in Lawrence, Massachusetts, and I was one of four out of about 25 artists asked to give a gallery talk. My intention was to talk about the global water crisis while standing in front of my monotype, but one of the artists who spoke before I did changed all of that. Nathalie Miebach is a sculptor who weaves giant, organically shaped, basket-like structures and uses scientific data to map out how she’s going to weave them: her message is her medium. I had an epiphany — it struck me that there was a huge disconnect between what I wanted to say and what my work looked like. I scrapped my speech and just talked about how to make a monotype, but on the drive home I started thinking about what I could make that would illustrate what I wanted to say.

After coming up with the concept for 13,699, an artist friend, Hari Kirin Kaur, suggested that I take the production of the installation into the public. I contacted high schools and colleges in my area and talked to students about the global water crisis and then had them string bottle caps. It took a year and a half to build the piece.

What was it like doing your first installation?

I’ve been a graphic designer, print maker and painter, and it was very disorienting to think and work three-dimensionally. I got a lot of help from friends — builders, architects, engineers, and sculptors — to help me figure out the details, and even then I got the math wrong. There are actually more than 13,699 bottle caps hanging…

Once I had secured two exhibition venues, I was really scared that the piece just might not work, having never done anything like it before. I finished it three days before having to take it all down to move it to the first gallery. The logistics of moving it were daunting as well because each line has to be taken down individually and wrapped, so I wasn’t sure how much time it would take and if the volunteers who offered to help would actually show up. But it all worked out perfectly both times. I’m about to take it down again starting on November 30th.

How did you choose the medium for 13,699?

When I first started to think about how to illustrate such a disturbing subject, I wanted to use strips of silk to represent each person who dies every day because he or she does not have access to clean water. It was important to maintain the same contemplative tone as my fine art. But when I figured out how much that would cost and thought about the carbon footprint of producing and shipping so much silk, I started looking for something that I could get from the recycling center. I did some research in the bottled water aisle at the local supermarket and discovered that Poland Spring, which is owned by Nestle, uses clear plastic bottle caps. This was exciting because I could get them for free from the Keene, New Hampshire recycling center, and using them would tie neatly into the privatization and environmental issues that are fundamental to the concept of the installation.

How do viewers experience 13,699? Can they get close to it? Can they walk around and through it?

The caps are strung on monofilament and hung from a 10′ x 10′ steel grid. An 8′ x 8′ x 8′ steel frame supports the grid and has one point of access and exit. There is an open 5′ circle in the middle. The lines, strung with bottle caps, are hung with “s” hooks from the metal grid at staggered 3″ increments around and above the open center circle. The viewer walks into the piece and is surrounded by hanging, clear plastic, recycled water bottle caps.

What do you hope viewers experience when looking at the piece?

I want the viewer to physically experience the magnitude of this humanitarian crisis statistic and I want their hearts to be opened by compassion. Conceptual, installation art is more likely to positively influence a wider audience if the viewer’s perceptions expand rather than contract during the viewing experience.

What do you hope they take away from it?

I received the following comment from a viewer, and it far exceeds my wildest dreams as far as responses go: “I snuck in on Thursday afternoon before the opening and was completely blown away by beauty, the stature, the delicacy, the brilliance of your piece. But, I said to myself, ‘How can this beautiful piece represent the global water crisis? It’s too beautiful, too delicate, too ethereal to transmit the tragedy, the desperation of those who are suffering in the midst of this crisis.’ Then, I thought of the many people dying and the souls those people represent and, all of a sudden, the delicacy, the ethereal quality, the beauty hit me: with the light shining on the piece the way it does, all those souls were shimmering, twinkling, sparkling like diamonds before my eyes, as if those who have died are still among us. It blew me away.”

Are you still painting and making prints? Are these also water inspired?

Back in 2006, I decided to make all of my fine art about water, with the intention of raising awareness through aesthetic appreciation. Since starting 13,699, I have not had time to print or paint, but I’m hoping to carve out some time soon to do some printmaking.

Who and/or what are your biggest influences?

Artistically, I’m a huge fan of Maya Lin, because her work is powerful and gentle at the same time, and of Li Huayi, because he starts his paintings by spilling ink and finds the landscape in the stains. His paintings are monumental and delicate.

I’ve been living on a lake for about 16 years and am pretty much surrounded by water. As a result, its presence has influenced me greatly. There’s a lot to learn about navigating life by observing water: it follows the path of least resistance and in stillness it reflects everything that is true. Also, knowing that almost 14,000 people die every day because they do not have access to something that we are fortunate enough to take for granted motivates me to work on raising awareness of the global water crisis.

How do you define success? What has been your greatest success to date?

Success to me is the absence of aggression. The pressure on artists to achieve, coupled with the competition to gain recognition — to get the grant, win the award, etc. — means that we’re living in a constant state of judgment. It’s difficult to maintain equanimity when one is constantly keeping score and it’s easy for doubt to turn into criticism and for criticism to turn into loathing, and loathing to turn into paralysis, all of which are forms of aggression. My greatest success was in realizing this. I used to waste so much energy on self-doubt, self-pity, self-criticism and trying to figure out if I even stood in the pecking order. Once I recognized that this behavior is aggression, I realized that important art cannot be created within that framework. I stopped obsessing and got to work, and miraculously things fell into place.

How have you found your Fractured Atlas membership beneficial?

My Fractured Atlas membership would be very beneficial if I had the time to raise money. “Art for Water” has taken off and I’m a little overwhelmed by everything that I’m trying to accomplish. My Fractured Atlas fiscal sponsorship has added credibility to my “Art for Water” project and I know I will raise money at some point, but it hasn’t happened yet.

Is there any advice that you would give to a visual artist at the start of their career?

Identify what it is you want or have to say. Boil it down to one sentence so that it’s concentrated into a mission statement (this could take a long time, but don’t give
up). Then spend all of your time carrying out your mission in as pure a form as possible. Focus on your mission and opportunities will present themselves. Live with intention.

What’s next on your professional horizon?

I’m working on the engineering phase of building an igloo with clear plastic, recycled water bottle caps. I intend to take the production of this into the public like I did with 13,699.

How can we see and learn more about your work?

My page on the Changents website has the most information about “Art for Water”, and my website, www.destrempes.com, has a portfolio of my fine art.

Thank you, Christine. Happy Thanksgiving to all!

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Images:
Three views of 13,699. Photos by Nancy Grace Horton.
Hydromediator 1, monotype waxed on panel. Photo by Christine Destrempes.