Seattle's Rebecca Cummins isn't afraid to follow her interests, whether they lead her across the globe, back through time, or over the boundaries between disciplines.
A "quick" trip to Australia to visit a friend from graduate school turned into a 16-year stay teaching photography at Sydney College of the Arts, University of Sydney. Research into obsolete optical devices evolved into a doctorate on contemporary artists who use archaic media devices. New projects require the assistance of physicists and other collaborators to fulfill.
"I am often the victim of my own enthusiasm," laughs Cummins, who is now a professor at the University of Washington in Seattle. This past spring, Cummins cotaught a one-time class that was the perfect blend of her creativity, interests in history and basic optical principles, interdisciplinary thinking—and sheer ambition.
Baghdad by George, 2003 (9:10 am Seattle, 10:10 pm Baghdad)
By Rebecca Cummins and Woody Sullivan
Working with University of Washington astro-biologist and astronomer Woody Sullivan—who recently worked with a team to place the first sundial on Mars with the Spirit Rover—she offered a quarter-long course on making sundials. Art students, along with majors ranging from math and physics to philosophy and dance, learned the history of sundials and the science of using the sun to tell time.
Their efforts culminated in "Where is Noon," a public installation of giant and intimate sundials across the school's campus. "On the scientific side, some of the students quickly caught on to the principles of celestial navigation", she says. "And others were more adept at conceptual or aesthetic solutions. Collaboratively, they came up with terrific results."
The sundials were an extension of Cummins's earlier work that explored the sculptural and experiential possibilities of light, such as a rainbow machine and re-creations of little known objects from the history of technology, such as camera obscura goblets (used by aristocratic party goers to spy on other guests) and an updated video version of E.J. Marey's photographic rifle of 1882. "My original base is photography, but we all work with light," she says. "Photography is one manifestation of it, and rainbow machines are another."
When Cummins first visited Australia in 1985, she extended her trip by traveling around the country teaching workshops on hand-coloring photographs, a strategy that eventually led to her full-time position with Sydney College of the Arts, University of Sydney. The art college was an independent community within a larger university, according to Cummins, with the students focusing on studio art, art history, and art theory. She was also captivated by the vibrancy of the wider world of Australian art. "I found it very stimulating," she says now. "Photography there was already part of mainstream discourse and was addressing issues beyond what had been traditionally photographic concerns."
In the early 1990s, her projects started to become more sculptural. Cummins also delved into electronic media, such as video and computers, at that time.
She says, "I often start with a concept, and then find a way to realize it formally and technically." When she ran up against the limits of her expertise—which frequently happened as she hit the accelerated learning curve of a new topic—she sought the help of experts, such as physicists, electricians, and computer programmers. In order to make the rainbow machine, Cummins contacted two Australian physicists from Sundials Australia. "An initial proposal described a sidereal mount that tracked the sun and enlisted mirrors to reflect light. We ended up with a glorified shower head," Cummins laughs. "But it works! It creates intense primary and secondary rainbows when the sun shines."
The Rainbow Machine
Several projects have involved consultation with scientists. "Even though they are experts in advanced spectroscopy, optical physics, or astronomy, they seem to enjoy the direct challenge and absurd context of the optical problems I ask for their advice on."
Cummins' doctorate was entitled, "Necro-Techno: Examples from an Archeology of Media," and highlighted the artwork of contemporary artists who excavate the sometimes obscure stories and obsolete devices from the history of technology, often in combination with contemporary technologies. She recently received the Chancellor's Award for the most outstanding 2002 PhD thesis from the University of Technology, Sydney.
Since her return to the United States in 2001, Cummins has continued on the same trajectory, following her instincts and playing with the fundamentals of light and vision. "I'm interested in how sun markings invite us to be more aware of the daily and seasonal rhythms of light and shadow," Cummins says.
Recent works with sundials range mostly in scale from Baghdad by George, a collaboration with Sullivan that enlisted a statue of George Washington on the University of Washington campus to tell the time in Baghdad, and a skylight aperture sundial for the ceiling of the new Montlake Public Library in Seattle, to more intimate projects, such as photographically tracking of light on the tablecloth during lunch.
"This curiosity with natural phenomena started with the camera osbscura and other historical optical devices, led to the rainbow machine, and now involves sundials," she says. "I don't think I'll ever get sick of it."
