Tracing Paths in the Currents and Sands: Jason Wesaw, "Water Carries Memory"

Toubby Chau

One of several works by Wesaw in the Woven Being exhibition at the Block Museum, Water Carries Memory is a large, multimedia piece inspired by Wesaw’s time building a relationship with Lake Michigan and its shores. It consists of a wide curtain of individually tied ribbons in varying shades of blue hanging over ceramic pots and sand. Behind the veil of ribbons are three, two-dimensional canvas paintings, each painted cobalt blue with a triangle white strip lined with cowrie shells along its vertical length. 

 In his museum label, Wesaw reflects how “Whether gathered in the clouds, flowing through lakes and rivers, pooled deep within underground aquifers, or in a mother’s womb, water is the uniting and essential force of life.”^[1] This is embodied in the ribbons’ numerous hues of ultramarine, cerulean, turquoise, and white, showcasing water’s ubiquitous presence in shaping the world. There is not an apparent order in how these different blues are placed, perhaps representing how water inherently moves and transforms unfettered. Certain regions of the curtain of ribbons are, however, translucent instead of opaque, providing a sense of mystery and perhaps humility in one’s understanding of water. One’s position in relation to the piece also affects their experience. Looking at it straight on, light bounces off the ribbons much like light hitting the vast surface of a lake. Looking directly at the side of the curtain, the ribbons slowly undulate in a narrow strip, the different blues now seeming to shift and evolve, evoking rivers and streams. And in its shadow, the alternating opaque and translucent ribbons give a sense of being underwater, the light that makes it through is softer and dim, giving off the impression of the profound depth that Lake Michigan possesses. In this way Wesaw encourages viewers to contemplate the sources and forms of water present in the spaces around them, including the water that flows through one’s own body, uniting external and internal modes of existence as contingent on water.

 Three tan ceramic pots, each with a vertical line of gold paint, are positioned within the sand. Their openings, or mouths, face towards the ribbons as if in anticipation of being filled with water. Despite the lake existing horizontally, the vertical positioning of the ribbons forces one to look upwards along their lengths, akin to a gift from something greater. They must be oriented correctly to properly receive water. Likewise, people must be oriented correctly, physically and mentally, to notice and appreciate the lake. Upon closer inspection, at the bottom over each pot is an offering of tobacco tied in cloth with a small ribbon, the same color as one of the ribbons hanging above. This is likely in reference to Wesaw’s time interacting with the coastlines of Lake Michigan, where he also gave offerings to the lake.^[2] Each pot is a nexus where water and people meet and is a space where reciprocity can be practiced. The pots are otherwise empty as they are only a temporary container for water, which through many routes makes its way back to larger bodies like Lake Michigan where it restarts its journey.

 Gently holding these pots is a strip of sand. The sand itself was borrowed from Lake Michigan and is shaped into a strip underlying the entire curtain. Wave patterns have been imprinted onto the sand, curving up and down horizontally along the entire strip. There is an occasional cowrie shell mixed amongst the grains. These imprints are intentional, but because it is in sand, they are ultimately fragile and transient. But outside where Lake Michigan’s beaches shift and change, it is the water brushing up against and painting new marks on the sand that remains constant. Through this, Wesaw depicts water as a dynamic, eternal medium in which experiences, lessons, and emotions are transmitted across time and space.

 Finally, behind the curtain, seen through the translucent patches of ribbons, and above the pots are three canvases. While all three share the same deep blue background with a thin grey triangle pointed upwards lined with cowrie shells, the peripheral canvases only have four shells while the central canvas has thirteen cowrie shells spaced top to bottom. The triangle’s orientation, starting from a single tip on top of the canvas and then broadening at the bottom, reinforces the image of water coming from a single source, Lake Michigan, into the pots below, highlighting generosity and a reminder of where water comes from. They also constitute another layer of directionality and movement in the piece, paralleling currents underneath the surface of water that continue to transport energy in hidden, unconscious ways.

Wesaw communicates the urgency of practicing reciprocity and love between oneself and the world. However, underlying equitable, healthy expressions of reciprocity, is the importance of understanding. The physical materials of Water Carries Memory are a mosaic of seemingly natural and artificial origins from the satin ribbons to the sand from Lake Michigan. Is it ironic that water is depicted via ribbons? And even with the natural elements, have they been “removed” from their “natural” context along the shoreline? In what way could this piece capture the essence of the lake in a way that is comparable to simply stepping outside the Block Museum and experiencing it directly as Wesaw did? While these concerns may be brought up, the assumptions underlying these questions can be misleading. For example, sand does naturally occur along the shores of Lake Michigan, but a majority of stretches along Northwestern campus and in urban spaces are artificial. In many of these beaches, below the surface of sand and vegetation are layers of concrete and other rubble designed to prevent erosion.^[3] And some of the sand itself on the beaches people frequent has been imported from other regions around Lake Michigan. Wesaw plays with and calls attention to this settler-colonial illusion of what is natural, that has distorted the memories of the lake. It is fairly easy to scrutinize an artwork as being artificial, but in what ways has nature outside been forcibly modified, often to the point of being unrecognizable if it were seen through the eyes of those who witnessed the lake even a few decades ago? What viewers of Water Carries Memory see now is the lake only as it is presented, as a fixture of settler-urban landscapes. However, this is not a generalization that all and any human presence and intervention is inherently “unnatural”, and this binary of “natural” and “artificial” can perpetuate settler narratives of humanity’s place in the universe. Understanding also involves not only the recipient, the lake, but also Native Nations and other communities and entities which have symbiotically coexisted and communicated with the lake for generations. Philosopher and environmentalist Kyle Whyte (Citizen Potawatomi Nation) coins the term “Renewing Relatives,” which he defines as the revitalization of Indigenous Nations’ knowledge production systems, through the nurturing and reinvention of their enduring relationships with their respective human and non-human kin.^[4] Without acknowledging the existing, intimate understanding of the lake’s histories and how the landscape has been altered, it becomes difficult to truly empathize with the lake and the lives it supports. Or to make informed decisions for how that relationship proceeds in the future. Even the lake has its limits. It is not a completely inexhaustible existence. It bears signs of scarring and trauma, of pollution and infestation by invasive species. It accepts everything even if that leads to harm. But Wesaw challenges viewers to contemplate whether they are okay with what is being given in return to these waters. Everyone who has been given this gift of water must contend with whether their personal and collective practices are aligned with “renewing” the lake. And caution should be exercised in this journey of reflection and enaction. Reciprocity is not solely driven by sentimentality. Reciprocity is founded on the awareness that one’s survival is inextricably connected to the survival and knowledge of others. So, the “goal” is not to try to return the lake to a state of “pre-human” contact; that would ignore thousands of years of ongoing Indigenous presence in which the lake has flourished. And in some ways, what has been done to the lake cannot be undone. In any relationship, people cannot fully take back the hurt they have committed. Rather, in this undertaking of healing, the inclusion of Indigenous scientists and experts, without exploitation as Whyte describes, paves a way forward towards an equilibrium of the lake that includes new ecosystems of mutualistic relationships and knowledge production.^[5]

At the time of this post, the lake-fill area that Northwestern’s students go to interact with Lake Michigan is currently off limits due to construction. Large metal fences lined with army green fabric obscure its view. The sounds of the waves are stifled by the racking of cranes and demolition. And the sometimes gentle, sometimes forceful winds carry toxic dust and debris rather than fresh air. As with any other relationship, there is a sense of mourning for the time spent disconnected from the lake. This lake is a place of solace and regeneration. Beyond water, the lake has supported the emotional, mental, and spiritual wellbeing of those in a relationship with it. One could say its generosity constitutes a form of medicine. Wesaw’s Water Carries Memory acts as a surrogate for what has been lost to those that cannot access the lake. Within the windowless room it resides in, the artwork is a gateway for viewers to the outside world and a reminder for what has been, currently is, and will far into the future be the lake and its waters. It carries a hope that when the construction ends, that maybe people can come with a new perspective as their personal relationship with Lake Michigan continues to evolve.