Showing posts with label Stonework. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stonework. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Watkins Glen


Watkins Glen, NY. I'm always a little amazed, not only by the beauty of the gorge itself, but by the skill and scope of the stonework that allows the access most of us take for granted now. Regional landscape architect Herbert Blanche said in 1933 that “the best executed project is one that is least apparent in the landscape,” and after the disastrous flood of 1935 washed out most of the existing concrete stairs and metal railings, the gorge trail was reconstructed with native stone. Its striated, flowing walls are an artful extension of the gorge’s own; often, it’s hard to tell where nature’s work ends, masonry begins. I’ve great respect for the masons who built, who continue to maintain and improve the winding steps, bridges, miles of walkways throughout the Fingerlakes gorges and parks.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Wall's End


Wall’s End
Built circa 1985, photographed 2004

Twenty years ago now, more, I rebuilt a stretch of stone wall that ends here. Sections of the wall had fallen, and those still standing had settled, slumped, wound this way and that, so I tried to blend in my new work in a way that went with the flow–And would hopefully, one day, become indistinguishable from the old. Hence, a new name, one that stuck: Weaving Wall.

The wall’s end widens to accommodate the two concrete silo staves that form the seat. I’d intended to build a six-pack cooler into the wall behind the seat, near the top, but access became a prohibitive issue; solutions that seemed aesthetically pleasing also seemed likely to create drainage problems that would compromise the mortared stonework there. So I filled in the space with rubble and mud, capped it permanently. A few empties did find their way into the wall elsewhere, though.

There’s no footing below the mortared area, but the mortared joints haven’t opened up much. I remember thinking that the wall’s new end would move around some, but maybe if I built it solidly enough it could ride the frost-and-thaw cycles as a unit. Probably a naïve approach at best, but twenty years on, the wall’s end and seat are both holding up well.