"My art is an attempt to reach beyond the surface appearance. I want to see growth in wood, time in stone, nature in a city, and I do not mean its parks but a deeper understanding that a city is nature too-the ground upon which it is built, the stone with which it is made"
About this Quote
Goldsworthy isn’t offering a gentle nature-appreciation mantra; he’s picking a fight with the way we’ve been trained to separate the “natural” from the “made.” The first move is almost surgical: “reach beyond the surface appearance.” That phrase signals a practice built on patience and touch, not spectacle. He’s not chasing the Instagrammable leaf spiral so much as the slow evidence of processes we usually ignore: growth rings, erosion, weathering, the quiet labor of time.
“Growth in wood, time in stone” works because it treats materials as biographies. Wood becomes a record of seasons and strain; stone becomes a clock you can hold. The subtext is ethical as much as aesthetic: if you can see time in stone, you have to confront how casually modern life treats land as inert, interchangeable real estate.
Then he pivots to the city, where the quote sharpens into cultural critique. He refuses the easy compromise of “parks” as nature’s designated corner. Parks are nature-as-exhibit: curated, bounded, and soothing. Goldsworthy wants the harder thought: the city is already nature, just reorganized through extraction, quarrying, foundations, and supply chains. “The ground upon which it is built, the stone with which it is made” is a reminder that urban life doesn’t float above ecology; it’s made of it.
Context matters: Goldsworthy’s work often disappears, melts, collapses, or is reclaimed. That impermanence is the argument. He’s asking us to look at human structures the same way we look at driftwood or cliffs: as temporary forms inside a larger, indifferent continuum.
“Growth in wood, time in stone” works because it treats materials as biographies. Wood becomes a record of seasons and strain; stone becomes a clock you can hold. The subtext is ethical as much as aesthetic: if you can see time in stone, you have to confront how casually modern life treats land as inert, interchangeable real estate.
Then he pivots to the city, where the quote sharpens into cultural critique. He refuses the easy compromise of “parks” as nature’s designated corner. Parks are nature-as-exhibit: curated, bounded, and soothing. Goldsworthy wants the harder thought: the city is already nature, just reorganized through extraction, quarrying, foundations, and supply chains. “The ground upon which it is built, the stone with which it is made” is a reminder that urban life doesn’t float above ecology; it’s made of it.
Context matters: Goldsworthy’s work often disappears, melts, collapses, or is reclaimed. That impermanence is the argument. He’s asking us to look at human structures the same way we look at driftwood or cliffs: as temporary forms inside a larger, indifferent continuum.
Quote Details
| Topic | Art |
|---|---|
| Source | Help us find the source |
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