Image courtesy of the artist.
Julie Glass, "Mouth of the Mississippi"
When Shreveport sculptor Julie Glass started looking at satellite maps of Louisiana’s sinuous waterways, she saw something that most of us probably would not: the possibility of a third dimension. “I love history and geography,” she said, “so looking at maps of the landscape had long been interesting to me.” Intrigued by the workings of the Old River Control Structure in Vidalia, Louisiana, Glass pulled up Google Earth for a closer look, and found the epic meanderings of the state’s waterways immediately captivating. “Once I started looking, I realized that [Louisiana’s river systems] are gorgeous all on their own. I thought, ‘What could I do with this in the realm of sculpture?!’ After that, the sculpture itself came easy.”
“Once I started looking, I realized that [Louisiana’s river systems] are gorgeous all on their own. I thought, ‘What could I do with this in the realm of sculpture?!’ After that, the sculpture itself came easy.”—Julie Glass
Image courtesy of the artist.
Julie Glass, "Atchafalaya at Berwick Island No 2"
The “sculpture” is the work in Glass’s Halfway Between Eunice and Mamou: a series inspired by the patterns, colors, and textures of Louisiana’s uniquely complex circulatory system of waterways—a system only truly comprehensible from space, or with the help of a map. Zooming in on Louisiana’s intricate filigree of river deltas, Glass prints maps of those that interest her most, then does the math required to visualize them in three dimensions. With welder and oxy-acetylene torch, she creates a steel armature that frames the channel networks, then builds up alluvian layers of fabric, landscape cloth, and colored resin.
Image courtesy of the artist.
Julie Glass, "17th St. Canal Break"
Finally come found metal objects—from car parts and saw blades, to a section of flood-twisted wrought-iron fence Glass salvaged from post-Katrina New Orleans, close to the site of the Seventeenth Street Canal breach. The result: three-dimensional “maps” that render the state’s serpentine river systems corporeal. Disarming in their grace, Glass’s sculptures capture the complex interplay between water and land, reflect the relationship between natural forces and human endeavor, and convey what is vast a little more comprehensibly.
Glass’s art isn’t all about rivers, though. She has done series inspired by the shapes of different kinds of vessels and the patterns of cracks in concrete sidewalks. Her work incorporates an ever-expanding variety of materials: steel, concrete, car tires, and found objects. The challenge presented by a new material is often what drives Glass’s subject matter. “I’m an artist more interested in manipulating the materials than I am in actually creating the images,” she explained. “I call it ‘mad scientist mode’; the materials talk to me and help me figure out where to go.”
“I’m an artist more interested in manipulating the materials than I am in actually creating the images,” she explained. “I call it ‘mad scientist mode’; the materials talk to me and help me figure out where to go." —Julie Glass
Image courtesy of the artist.
Julie Glass, "Near Mamou"
Creating Half Way Between Eunice and Mamou has taken Glass to a lot of places: she visited fifty-five of Louisiana’s sixty-four parishes while figuring out how to capture the essence of its water bodies in her sculptures. In April and May 2021, the work also took her to the Louisiana State Museum, where she paired each work in the series with the satellite images that inspired it, plus explanations of riverine phenomena including oxbow lakes, river meanders, and the Old River Control Structure itself. Asked what she hopes viewers take away from the work, Glass pointed to the thrill of experiencing geography from different points of view. In a flat state, she noted, one’s understanding of a river changes dramatically when seen from above. “Louisiana is pretty interesting on the ground, but when you look at these maps, and you do the quest, you realize that there’s beautiful stuff everywhere.”