Goodbye sadness 2000. Tela and 270 dead orange trees.
The idea for the 'Goodbye Sadness' project first arose in 1997, when in the interior of Gandia I saw some fields of fruit trees (those modern little trees designed to be practical and manageable) that, after being pruned, had a completely geometric shape, as if they were basic structures.
Since it was winter and there were no leaves, they reminded me of something like the skeleton of an umbrella, and as soon as I saw them, I imagined them finished, that is, covered with fabric. I was excited by the idea, but there was something I wasn't quite sure about.
Those fruit trees were living trees, sensitive living beings, and to execute my idea and be able to stretch the canvases, I would have to staple them with hundreds of staples in each one. I discarded the idea. How could I hope to contribute anything to the landscape by torturing the trees?
Two years later, seeing the enormous number of dead orange groves popping up around Valencia, I suddenly remembered the armor-trees of Gandia. I managed to look through the gray cloud, formed by the infinite number of twigs of a dead orange tree, until I perceived its basic structure.
All these trees had died of sadness, citrus AIDS. They really did look very gray and sad.
Now everything made sense; the intervention was going to be a transformation project, a matter of life or death, a tribute to that very Valencian tree, to its fruit and its flower, the orange blossom.
I began searching for fields, their owners, and – the most difficult part – an owner who would give me permission to carry out this project.
We started working a year later.
By 'removing the sadness,' each tree was reduced to a trunk with its main branches, and when we began to stretch and staple the fabrics around the branches, that's when the basic shape of each orange tree was truly revealed. I was thrilled to discover that each tree had its own unique shape, depending on the direction and position of its branches. 270 surprises. I also realized that using all my creativity, I wouldn't have been able to design such a diversity of shapes, nor would I have arrived at such extravagant or original forms. I remembered the phrase NATURA ARTIS MAGISTRA.
The intervention was ephemeral and the trees returned to life and gave life for six weeks.
in spring.
Monique Bastiaans