I was in Colorado a couple of weeks ago for two family weddings, followed by a few days on the banks of the Frying Pan River to regroup before my final push for the Hult Center Show. The aspen were just beginning to turn, the air was crisp. I was purposely not thinking of art, or work, relishing in having the time to catch up with family and friends, play Swedish Rummy and read the stack of books I had brought. But I couldn't resist the temptation to make a trip into Aspen to see Andy Goldsworthy's new Stone River. 
From an inauspicious beginning from underneath a parking lot, Goldsworthy's river of red sandstone flows "downstream" through a small meadow, under a walkway and through a reflecting pool. Then the very tip of the sandstone wall curves into the building at the base of a wall of windows. The thin line of red sandstone meanders in broad snaking curves through a large conference room back outside, across a cement deck where it disappears over the edge, curving in perfect alignment to join up with Roaring Fork River flowing far below. 
Unlike the majority of Andy Goldsworthy's work, Stone River required a team of skilled stone masons to construct. It is a major installation piece, but like a river, it only rises to ground level; and like a river born from individual rivulets and streams from multiple and diverse watersheds joining and flowing as one, Stone River combines the beautiful red Colorado sandstone of my childhood with red sandstone imported from England, China, India, and Jordan.
Stone River was designed and built in conjunction with the new Doerr/Hosier Center on the grounds of the Aspen Institute in Aspen, Colorado. Founded in 1950, the Aspen Institute is an international non-profit dedicated "to fostering enlightened leadership, the appreciation of timeless ideas and values, and open-minded dialog on contemporary issues." All the components of Stone River's design are purposeful, reflecting the nature of the work being done in the building, especially the bringing together of red sandstone from all parts of the world to mingle together and create a river of ideas that flows from the outside world in through the meeting room and back out into the world. 
At first, two elements of its design seem disconcerting - its abrupt beginning, appearing to emerge from a rectangular opening from underneath a parking lot and its constrictive, tight, snaking curves. But then I remembered that a couple of years ago the culvert diverting a small stream under the highway and parking lot outside my office had to be dug up and up-sized to correct a chronic high water problem. That is what happens to streams running inconveniently through cities and ideas outside the box, they remain hidden and contained until they overflow the system meant to control them and are given room to flow. Flying home to Oregon, looking down at rivers cutting through the landscape far below, made me realize that Goldsworthy's exaggerated curves do reflect the true nature of rivers. But it is a perspective we loose when we sit on their banks and can only see as far as the next bend in the river.
Stone River is a hard piece to describe, a hard piece to photograph, but it is definitely well worth going out of your way to see. I did not know the title of the piece before I went, I was expecting a wall and instead discovered a river. For those on the west coast, since returning home I have discovered that in 2002 Goldsworthy completed a 320 foot long Stone River on the Stanford Universty campus from sandstone salvaged from buildings toppled in the 1906 and 1989 earthquakes. An article on that Stanford Stone River can be found at http://news-service.stanford.edu/news/2002/january23/goldsworthy-123.html. An article on the Aspen Stone River can be found at http://www.aspentimes.com/article/20060923/ASPENWEEKLY03/109240048.
