The Final Walk-Faith in What Remains

The night of May 20th offered warm sun, brilliantly blue skies and myriad hues of green that varied from near black to chartreuse. We were delighted to welcome so many first time walkers, especially those who came from far away to participate. Definitely better late than never. For those who have joined in many walks throughout the year, we feel a special fondness. Together we have experienced this mountain, this river and all the variables of weather and people over the past twelve months. Since last June, we crunched through leaves, got lost (briefly), got wet, warmed up, broke rules, slowed down and paid attention in a new way. The walks were an aesthetic full court press. Talk about engagement. The original questions: Who and what is nature? and Who and what makes art? are answered. Here are the closing questions: What is ephemeral? What remains? I believe an experience that develops tendrils of connection--to a moment, to a place and to a community--offers an answer.

The Silent Walks were a wonderful experience. I am grateful to every person whose participation made them happen. Many thanks. Comments from the final walk follow. entering the Quiet Zone Wonderful spring trees. Breeze stirring in the branches Tall, blossoming tree. Birds all around Tweeting a sweet sound But when I came back from the view, there was no song at all. -O. P. age 8 I like the way last year's leaves are crushes into the stones on the path. Bleu Blanc Vert Thank you. This was such an awesome experience on so many levels: smells, sounds, sights, the breeze, the streams. "every moment is made glorious..."- Rumi Bring the walks to Jersey! Make 'em longer! Rock on. Dig the quiet----need more of that. A deeper green surrounded us. The river was streaked with pale blue lines--currents, breezes, wakes, the Shawagunk escarpment distinct in the view. Beautiful. Peace. Feet make too much noise. I wanted to tell the birds to be silent. My camera made too much noise and flash. Follow the yellow hat. Trees! GREAT to finally make it!!

The View

Well, what can I say, I'm sad to see the Silent Walks go...but so glad to have been a part of it. Dappled sunshine, gnats, train horns drifting up from the Hudson. Awesome! Although my first, it was the 12th walk on the 12th night, a celebration of the fulfilled commitment to merge the boundaries of art with the cycles of nature over a year's span of time. Congratulations! So beautiful yet so...sad. Thanks for an experience that will last for years. thinking of the song that has the line "gonna feed my soul where the blacktop ends"

Special thanks to Diane and Martin and Odessa. You and Barbara Gioia get the most walks attended award! We always end the walks with conversation and a bit of refreshment, but this time, we also celebrated with a closing reception at 2 Alice's coffee house.

I cannot overstate the importance of Thom Munterich to this project. Beyond all the beautiful photographs and documentation he has provided,Thom is the only other person who has walked every walk with me. His support, both creative and logistical, has been integral to The Silent Walks. Sincerest thanks.

This mirrors the first video taken last June.

Thanks again to everyone!

February's Walk--soft snow and twilight

The turn out was surprisingly low for such perfect weather, but a few people did show up to participate. Like the October walk (the other side of the winter solstice) we started out in twilight. Having a bit of light made such a difference. Unlike October when the air seemed filled with the glow of yellow leaves, the pervading color in February was blue--the snow, the shadows and the light, punctuated by glowing electric white and yellow. These two walks--October and February, have had the most magical light. The deepening shadows give rise to our own instinctual relationship to the darkness-fear and safety. The most defenseless animals come out at night because darkness offers protection that balances the risk of predators. In our woods, especially after so many walks at night, I enjoy the dark. We walk as a group-quite similar to a small herd--and the company is calming. Now after so many months, strangers who have shared multiple walks are connected in friendly, informal ways that are blossoming into friendships. For most, the self-conscious nervousness of the first experience gives way to a dilated permeance.

This is community; this is communion. The following are comments made by the participants along with documentary photographs and recordings. They act as reminders and footnotes of an experience, but nothing beats actually taking the walk. Please join us next month on March 23rd.

"The whirling call of an owl and the yip of what might have been a coyote made this walk extra special for me. The mist over the river made the boat lights glow. It was so peaceful watching them slowly float up river. The twilight and the snow offered plenty of light, yet I kept noticing the silhouettes of the tree branches. Glad there was no ice!"

"I am at home wherever I am." --Rumi I did not want it to end. (I'm bringing a snowball home for the dogs.)

"Perfect night for a silent walk. Light going in and snow continued to light the way as dark settled in around us. Good sounds and tasty chocolate covered pretzels at the end!"

A word of appreciation for Barbara Gioia--Many people have faithfully attended several Silent Walks, and we love you all! It's not easy to fit these events into work/home/kids' schedules. We would like to give special recognition to Barbara Gioia (pictured above right) who has attended almost every Silent Walk. We will remember your comment about the chocolate covered pretzels. Dog and deer tracks are everywhere.

"Not surprisingly, I feel invisible and insignificant. I actually felt terrified but also relieved. The woods were quite calm but little noises that crept towards me were not recognizable and alien."

"Today had to be the perfect day for a silent walk in the woods. Soft snow on the ground. No wind. Warm temperatures. I could have stayed all night."

Walking up to the view in the snow. The sounds drift up from the river and the village.

Evidence of the presence of Thom Munterich, the Silent Walk's photographer. Please join us for our next Silent Walk on March 23rd. Questions can be directed to Jackie Skrzynski.

Preparing for the first walk and a bit of background

These signs lead participants from Rt 218 to the Storm King trail head on Mountain Road.

Background
Contextualizing the Silent Walks as an artistic experience allows participants to “turn on their art light.” They will consider their sensory experience in a consciously aesthetic way. That is also the reason to walk in silence. Sharing without words will allow participants to pay attention to the ambient sounds, smells, colors and weather rather than their conversations. Not talking does not mean not sharing, as each participant will be part of a large group walking silently along a trail. Perhaps they will even feel like a herd, and while that may seem humorous, the identification with what is animal about us, and our collective experience, is the core concept of the Silent Walks.
Skrzynski considers the walks as combining inspirational elements from several artists' works. She has always admired Andy Goldsworthy and Richard Long, two artists who essentially point to nature and say, “Notice this!” while making works that are both exquisitely formal and collaborate with natural elements. The Silent Walks also pay homage to the venerable tradition of the Hudson River School of landscape painters. Importantly, these events intend to build community. Skrzynski attributes the collaborative performances by the artist Rirkrit Tarivanija, who cooked meals for people in his gallery performances, as perhaps the most important influence. Mountain, river, community, sharing, access, creating memory rather than evoking it--fostering a connection to a place--this is art.

Skrzynski believes participants in the Silent Walks will retain a potent memory of this specific place at this particular time. Especially for those who walk each month, memories of seasonal ambience, discomfort and pleasure will form a profound awareness of the Storm King Mountain over time. She intends for these experiences to permeate into a daily awareness of our connections to our surroundings. Skrzynski also believes in the power of the ephemeral. Each performance survives only in memory, yet these memories can change behavior. Her community is proud of its relationship to the Hudson River and has fought to keep it unspoiled. These performances participate in that tradition, creating a chance to form lasting connections within the simple act of taking a walk.

With the Silent Walks, Skrzynski creates a context, naming a walk through the woods as ‘Art’ to alter concepts of what and who is nature, and what and who makes art.

For locals, these walks will foster a “pride of place” as they share the unique qualities of where they live and pay homage to it. As part of the “Celebrate New York 400” events, the walks will have a historical context as well. For example, 30 years ago the Hudson Valley community fought to save Storm King Mountain from being the site of a huge power plant. (This gave birth to the Scenic Hudson organization and most consider it the birth of the environmental movement.) The post-walk reception, the blog and the facebook page will provide another layer of community interaction. Because the artwork is fundamentally participatory, each walk will engender a shared experience that will connect people not only to their environment, but also to each other.

In a larger sense, Skrzynski hopes this project will be the first of many community-based Silent Walks started by other artists anywhere in the world.