This German documentary, in English, is about a Scottish environmental sculptor named Andy Goldsworthy. He makes art from objects he finds in nature. For example, early in the film we see him taking sections of icicles and "gluing" them together with a little moisture into a serpentine shape that seems to repeatedly go through a vertical rock.

Of course, the icicles melt, but that transience is a part of most of Goldsworthy's work. He goes to a site and gets a feeling for it, deciding intuitively what to make that day. He talks of having a "dialog" with the rocks and other materials that he works with, attempting to work *with* rather than against them. It might be stones, or flowers, or leaves, or sticks. The sculpture might last for minutes or years, or might not even last long enough to be completed and photographed. The work seems to be more of a process than a goal.

The film, and the work, is beautiful, inspiring, and thought provoking. It moves pretty slowly, which is appropriate for the material, but you should be sure to go when you have had a good night's sleep. But do go if you have the opportunity.

Search the web for some other pages about Andy Goldsworthy or to read about his local sculpture at Stanford University. There are also several books available with photographs of his sculptures.

My thoughts: Skip reading this part if you want to find what this film means to you completely independently. I recall a couple of ideas that occurred to me while watching the film which I thought I would share for those of you still reading. First, the transitory nature of much of Andy Goldsworthy's work reminded me of the natural ebb and flow of human life. We're born, we live, and eventually we die. That's natural, and that's also naturally a part of Goldsworthy's art.

The other thought was to be awestruck with the way that Goldsworthy has managed to integrate his passion and his work so thoroughly into his life. Most of us have work which is tolerated at best, a life which we hardly notice living, and passions which we really mean to spend more time on, if we even remember what they are. Andy Goldsworthy has managed to create an amalgam of all of these aspects of his life that looks like it works very well, and is nourishing for him and those around him. Wow.

Seen on 8/28/2002.

The filmmaker inhaled Andy Goldsworthy's art, his search for closeness with the land and the water, and his sense of proportion -- and so gently, so beautifully breathed it back on to film for the rest of us. "Rivers and Tides" loves Goldsworthy's work and joins it as a visual concert of time and human presence in a flowing world, a world that hides its power in plain sight. See this movie!

This documentary on the temporary art work Andy Goldsworthy is like watching one of the rivers he builds near, sometimes it enthralls you and other times it bores you depending on your mood. I've tried this film two or three times now and I can not get into it. While I find the film extremely beautiful and well made, its wandering nature dulls my senses to the point of sleep and I find that just about the time we go home with him I turn off the DVD and swear I'll pick it up again later, though I never do. The problem for me is that for a good portion of the first part of the film, the part I've watched repeatedly, we don't really get to see anything other than Andy creating. This is all well and good, but it doesn't explain why anyone would commission this guy to go onto the shores of Nova Scotia and build things no one will ever see since time and tide will destroy them. I know the answers come later and I know that much of what comes later is quite beautiful, having jumped ahead, but the pacing seems completely off and twenty minutes in I'm ready for a nap. I'm probably no judge of this, but I think its worth a try, even if I'm not sure that I really have gotten anything out of this film. Ah well, maybe next time.