Rivers and Tides (****)
review by Jon Waterman

This documentary shows artist Andy Goldsworthy doing what he does best. Andy works in nature. He uses things found (usually) in his home country of Scotland and creates various sculptures and other living art pieces. Some of them will be around for decades and centuries to come; others last only a few hours. They all exist in isolation, hidden from the civilized world, possibly never seen in person by anyone else's eyes.

The film starts off with an ice sculpture. Andy takes pieces of icicles and weaves them "through" a rock. We immediately get a sense of how painstaking the process is. He carefully connects the ice together with his bare hands, which appear to be frost bitten from the work, because gloves would prove to be too bulky and not intimate enough. When it's all said (or not said as I'll say later) and done, we see the result of the time, effort and pain. The ice seamlessly flows through the rock to create a piece of art that combines various aspects of nature in an absurd, yet magical way. As the sun comes up, the ice melts away and the toils of the morning disappear.

It is not unusual for his work to be taken apart. Many pieces are created for that specific purpose. Pictures are taken of each one for memory sake as well as to reassure those that provide grants to him. There are many instances in which the art melts, washes away, gets blown by the wind or dissolves back into the earth. It's all part of nature correcting itself. Director Thomas Riedelsheimer does a wonderful job showing not only the beauty of the art created with nature, but also the beauty in nature that inspires Andy to begin with. We see the beautiful landscapes as well as close up shots of the lush vegetation.

Just like Andy, the film is not afraid of patience, but they both know their time limits. Often we get lingering shots of the art. From one still position, we see the art fade away over a period of hours. In one instance, we see weeds growing around cone made of rocks that was built in a field of dirt. Some of these shots seem impossible or just foolish to attempt. However, these shots not only represent the patience of the artist and showcase his work, but they also define a clear artistic value to the film itself and separate it from more conventional documentaries.

Movement is key not only in the art, but also in the film. Nature is ever moving and growing and flowing. Andy incorporates that into his work by working with the wind and the rivers and tides and everything else around him. He even uses wool from sheep and stretches it across a rock wall. No medium is out of bounds for him.

The film uses relatively little dialogue. Mostly it's about watching him create things out of leaves, rocks, water, etc. The work doesn't really need explanation. The visuals speak for themselves. When he does speak, it's always insightful and very useful in understanding why he does what he does. The most he talks is during the brief sequence at home with the wife and kids. I got the impression that he has a disdain for his home life. Not necessarily because of the people, but because he is not out in nature. He knows how to manipulate nature, because he has studied it and worked with it for many years. His passion is truly with his art and the world around him. When his structures collapse in front of our eyes, it is heart breaking for us as well. His emotions are plain as day without so many words.

The film is fascinating. He is able to find incredible spots to conduct his efforts. Sometimes the work is not very complex, but it is always interesting and always incredible to look at. The music is unusual, but fun and the quirkiness adds a little something to the overall mood. I had never heard of Andy Goldsworthy before this film, and from what I've heard this film doesn't even show his best work. But if this is the mediocre stuff, then I may not be ready for the cream of the crop. The art is incredible. The filmmaking is stunning and mind blowing. You can't go wrong.

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