One person’s trash is another person’s art
By Pam Hersh, Special Writer
When I was asked to be a judge for an art contest hosted by Princeton University, I was humbled and honored. Why me, I asked myself as I read the email invite from Princeton University’s Creative Director Laurel Cantor and Contest Director Victoria Covert. I guess they were unaware that I nearly flunked art in grammar school. I assumed the honor fell to me because I am known around town for my excessive collection of artsy (a euphemism for cheap and funky) accessories.
However, after reading the entire email, I discovered that the type of art to be judged was “Trash Art,” as part of Trash Artstravaganza 2013 — Princeton University’s third Sustainability Art Contest on Saturday, Oct. 12. I then realized that I was asked to be a judge, because someone must have made a stealth visit to my garage — which is a canvas called “Chaos and Mess,” featuring piles of trash belonging to several former residents of my house (my kids, my sister, my nieces, my mother, my grandkids, my kids’ friends, and some mystery woman that no one claims).
Trash Artstravaganza, rooted in the university’s endeavor to increase awareness of sustainability issues and initiatives, challenged members of the campus community and area residents to construct entries of materials that otherwise would have been recycled or discarded. According to Lauren Ugorji, the University assistant vice president of communications, research has shown that, particularly in the area of sustainability, it has been younger generations that, once engaged, take the lead in fully championing an issue and causing other generations to do so as well. All I know is that the contest turned me on to sustainability in a way the ongoing debate about climate change has failed to do. Al Gore’s speeches never could hold a recycled candle to the Cinderella ball gown made out of New York Times plastic bags.
The 25 creative entries from people throughout Central Jersey of all backgrounds and ages fell into several categories: 2-D art (paintings); 3-D art (sculpture); writing or poetry; video or animation; fashion or accessories; songs; architectural models; theatrical or dance presentations; mixed media. The materials were an amazing conglomeration of items such as: dried-out deer bones, shredded plastic bags, bottle caps, pens, pieces of wall board, masking tape, newsprint, tissue paper, cardboard, plastic bottles, scraps of silk, wire, hangers, dirt, tree limbs, newspaper plastic bags, bark, feathers, old toys, rocks and stones — and massive amounts of imagination.
The winner of Best in the Show was 9-year-old Waly Ndiaye from Woodbridge, who created “Hooray, the Recycling Robot to the Rescue,” whose every fiber represented — literally — the concept of reduce, reuse and recycle.
Hooray’s body consisted of food wrappers, candy wrappers, drink containers, potato chip bags, thank-you- for- recycling plastic bags, sticky notes, cupcake wrappers, crayons, erasers, denim threads, soda can tabs. And the extra treat was that Hooray was more than just a sculpture, it was a working robot — a functioning composting container.
I was assigned to judge the “fashion” category entries with Princeton author Dana Lichtstrahl. We failed at our task miserably, unable to choose a best of anything — in fashion or any category for that matter. Each work of art could only be described by that trendy, clichéd word “awesome.” I wanted to make my house a museum of trash artworks (excluding the ones in my garage, of course).
But because I have spent a good portion of my professional life responding, repeating, and reasoning at municipal planning board meetings, the one Trash Art entry that inspired the most intense reaction in me was an entry that featured not only reducing, reusing, and recycling, but also reimagining and repurposing.
Less of a visual piece of art, it was a conceptual work of art, called “Shenandoah” by Gretchen Godwin, a registered nurse by profession. She described her work as a “sustainable building plan to repurpose Princeton mansions into an affordable living project for singles.” With all the luxury amenities including a five-star restaurant, covered heated swimming pool, housekeeping and linen service, I question whether the term “affordable” requires a reality check, but I nevertheless relish the opportunity to sit through this application at a future Princeton Planning Board meeting.