Inside Maya Lin’s Art and Architecture | Art21

I think art is wonderful because it's
everything you've ever known,

and everything you've ever done somehow
percolating up,

working with ideas that you might want to
explore.

And then you can just wake up one morning
and know what you want to do.

This is a very unusual art project.

I got a phone call out of the blue.

It was from an art consultant in the city,
wonderful woman.

And she said, "Congratulations, you've
been selected to make an art work for the

Frey Foundation of the city of Grand
Rapids." and I said, "Well, what's the

site?" And it was one little corner.

It was called the "Percent for Art Corner"
of sort of a very tough park, or what

was left of a park. There was a skating
rink that was in bad need of repair.

And I said, "I don't believe an art work,
one singular object is going to help

resolve sort of the urban situation of
what this park is and is not doing, but if

the Frey Foundation is at all interested
in having me come in, having the art act

as a catalyst to completely rework this
park, I would be extremely interested."

I think the idea of a skating rink

is something that just sort of piqued my
fancy.

What I actually wanted to do was take an

idea of sculpture and grow it into a
park.

I didn't realize I was going to have to
work as an architect as well,

because the city then required two or

three buildings to be part of the site.

A bandstand, a restroom facility,

I'll have put in all the lighting.

Yeah, it's not...

I wonder if you're gonna notice that,

That might be a good North Star.

<v Assistant>okay.</v>

<v ->Right?</v>

And so then we either go deep, deep blue.

Yeah, that works fine for the North Star,

because it's off-blue.

<v ->Okay.</v>

<v ->I'm really curious what this
looks like with ice on it.

We're soon gonna find out,

with ice.

I sort of called this one the three stages

of water: solid, liquid, and gas.

So the liquid is a water fountain

that's three feet about you.

A circle covered with water in it flows

off the front edge.

The mist or the gas fountain

is a ring of mist that'll come up,

and you could almost walk into the mist,

And of course, the ice is the ice skating
rink.

The genesis started with water.

Grand Rapids actually took the rapids out
the river there

for flooding reasons.

And I started to play with the idea

of bringing it back a little bit.

The starting of the rings, the terraced
rings,

started as, if you took a drop of water

in the center of the pool, and let them
come out,

and then it spun into an idea of as much

about astronomy and about the stars,

so it's almost like pulling the stars
into a pool of water.

It's sort of a reflection of the night sky
in the pool.

(group laughing and chattering)

<v ->All right, this is it.
Now close your eyes.

<v ->Wow. This is not bad.</v>

(chattering)
Just be careful, Sarah.

Wow.
(gentle music)

It's a piece that marks a very set point

in time and connects it back to a set

occurence in nature.

(ice skater yells)

It's up and running. The skating rink's
actually up first,

and I'll go back in to fine-tune the
landscaping, the trees.

My sculptures deal with naturally

occurring phenomena,

and they are embedded and very closely
alined with geology

and landscape and natural earth
formations.

It's all about a play back and forth

between inside works and outside works,

all trying to capture the landscape.

This is a group of atlases.

I bought about ten old atlases.

And I started making these landscapes,

crates, in them.

So this one sort of has a double crater.

So you go past through the first crater,

and there's a little island and you open
it to the island,

and I'll make it more complex island
geography here,

which is what's going on.

So much of my artwork is very large-scale
outdoor works that I like to retreat

into the studio and make a lot of the
work myself.

And the trouble is the outdoor works and

the architecture tends to take up all my
time,

so I find it very hard, as a struggle,

to be able to come back here and do this.

This is like the first work I've done in
a little while.

It's terrible.

(cat meows)

We have gone through a period in art and
architecture,

I think, modernity, industrialization,

which allowed for specialization.

There are very few architects who are
also solidly, have a gallery.

Part of me is an artist.

The other part of me builds architecture.

I'm not at all wanting to have

a large practice.

I don't want to practice architecture.

I love building a few buildings.

So I have to be very careful what I

take on.

I've done some works that are extremely
public and extremely well-known,

and I think had I not done the Vietnam
Memorial and come out with the body of

work that since has come out, I would have
been able to be called an artist

about five yers sooner.

But because I had done the Vietnam
Memorial,

it was like, "Oh, you make monuments,"

whatever that means.

I mean, look at that one, the biggest one.

Dee-dee-dee-dee.

Dee-dee-dee.

I don't think I woke up one day and said,

"Oh, I'm going to be an artist on some
days and an arch..."

It was more I couldn't choose between the
two, nor did I

choose to blend them.

You might be able to do this better than
me.

It's taken me a body of work to see how I
am developing.

<v Acquaintance>I don't think so.</v>

<v ->No, it's solid, it's totally
solid.

It's been on for an hour now.

It's kind of surreal.

I really want to make this piece.

I'm actually playing with

the idea of taking this idea and creating
a work out of recycled rubber,

calling it "Playground."

It will be twice as big

as the untitled topographic landscape,

and kids can play on it.