BREMNER BENEDICT

Since humankind’s arrival, springs have been important to our survival. Despite their small size, they host a rich diversity of plant and animal life, including roughly 20 percent of the world’s endangered species. Springs serve as a barometer of the quality and endurance of their aquifer, an easily missed yet most critical feature of the environment.

This series began serendipitously: after listening to Hopi members of the Black Mesa Water Coalition describe the increasing loss of springs on their reservation, springs on which they depended for drinking water, a week later I was invited to participate in a springs inventory field trip to northeastern Arizona. There I was introduced to the complexity, value, and significance of spring ecosystems, as well as how climate change and humans threaten their biodiversity and sustainability. A staggeringly high percentage of North American springs have been impaired or lost, particularly over the past century, and that rate is increasing as groundwater use accelerates. A large number of springs have fallen victim to the construction of roads and buildings, competing groundwater pumping, recreation, livestock grazing, mining, and even wildlife management.

Many indigenous cultures believe that land holds memory. This is a belief well-reflected at springs, which often contain thousands of years of evidence of human and natural interactions with the environment. Prehistoric, indigenous, cross-desert trade routes followed paths that lead from spring to spring that were one- or two-day’s walk apart. Anglo-Europeans colonizing the continent in the 1800′s relied on the same springs, often settling where there was abundant groundwater.

Armed with a sense of adventure, a rented GPS, a cell phone with unreliable service, and a little luck, I’ve spent the last 7-years visiting springs in all kinds of conditions. To find springs I rely on hydrologists, ecologists, landowners and people in the area who generously share descriptions and sometimes coordinates.

A spring influences its surroundings, and that relationship shapes a springs’ ecological personality. To suggest the enigmatic presence of beauty can hide a more complex reality, I often include anthropogenic disruptions like fences, pipes, and detritus. I looked to the Western landscape painter Maynard Dixon’s muted palette when choosing how to manipulate color and lighting to evoke springs' inherent precarious condition.

Having lived for years in a bone-dry town in Arizona, the constant attention to water – making sure I was drinking enough every day, not using too much when washing dishes – made me acutely aware of how precious water is. After discovering that springs on local reservation lands were drying up, I was compelled to think more deeply about the implications for those who live in dry landscapes and decided to record the few remaining springs before they are lost forever.

The challenge for me as an artist was how to interpret the science of springs for a non-scientific audience in an accessible way. Artists and scientists are both seekers of answers through observation and experimentation, and art has a unique ability to translate scientific data into a universal language that everyone can absorb and respond to. I drew inspiration from the 19th century naturalist Alexander Von Humboldt's idea that using art to interpret science to the public is vital in generating an emotional connection to the natural world, which ultimately could encourage its protection.

Springs have survived relentless human and natural onslaughts for millennia, but today they are in peril. It can be difficult to comprehend the seriousness of water scarcity within modern society, where most of us are able to instantly access water by turning a faucet. However, we still have the ability to intervene before it’s too late. My hope for this series is that it will raise awareness and serve as a call to action. If we act quickly, we can still restore springs in areas where the aquifer hasn’t been too damaged. After all, where there’s water there is life. .