Documentarian Thomas Riedelsheimer shows us Andy Goldsworthy as he creates art in natural settings using natural materials such as driftwood, ice, mud, leaves, and stones. Goldsworthy comments on his "earthworks" and occasionally responds to offscreen questions from Riedelsheimer while he painstakingly builds his outdoors sculptures. With some exceptions, such as a winding stone wall that he built in Mountainville, NY, Goldsworthy's creations are intentionally mutable works. We see how several of them fall apart, melt, or drift away due to exposure to the elements; we also see, for example, a complex structure of interconnected sticks collapse while Goldsworthy is still working on it. Riedelsheimer takes us to Goldsworthy's home in Penport, Scotland, and to a French museum, but the emphasis of the film is on observing Goldsworthy at work. ~ Todd Kristel, All Movie Guide
Review by All Movie Guide
All Movie Guide
liked it.
Watching this slow-paced but fascinating film is like talking to an artist for a couple of hours while he's busy working on a project. Normally, this would be rather boring even if you appreciate his work. So, since someone bothered to make this type of film about Andy Goldsworthy, you might figure he's a lively, charismatic figure with a commanding speaking voice and endless supply of clever remarks. Well, he's not that kind of person at all -- he's soft-spoken and unpretentious, not effusive and larger than life -- yet the movie is interesting anyway if you're in a reflective mood. This is largely because of the nature of Goldsworthy's art, which is as much about the process of creation and destruction as the final product itself. Goldsworthy makes a living from still photographs of his pieces, but motion pictures are better suited to reproducing his work because they convey the element of time. His pieces are often meant to be ephemeral, so it's fitting to see how he builds them from nature and how nature eventually absorbs them back (in condensed time, of course). Viewers may find themselves sharing his elation or disappointment when he successfully finishes an ice sculpture or watches one of his precarious constructions fall apart before he manages to complete it. Also, writer/director/cinematographer/editor Thomas Riedelsheimer provides some incredibly beautiful images of Goldsworthy's creations, and Fred Frith's score effectively complements them. This isn't the kind of documentary to watch if you want a fast tempo and a lot of hard facts, and it doesn't answer the philosophical questions it raises about the nature of art, but it's mesmerizing to watch if you're feeling patient. ~ Todd Kristel, All Movie Guide