Abraham Cruzvillegas | Empty Lot
Tate Modern | London, United Kingdom
13 October 2015 – 20 March 2016

After five months of anticipation, Abraham Cruzvillegas’ ‘Empty Lot’ will leave some viewers disappointed, some pleasantly surprised, and others contemplating their own position in a world of uncertainties. The installation that features 240 triangular plant boxes filled with soil gathered from 36 sites across London – from the gardens of Buckingham Palace to Queen’s Woods and Hackney City Farm – is the latest to welcome visitors to the Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall.

Raised by a network of scaffolding, it is from the upper level that the installation is best viewed. To the frustration of many, who like myself were eager to stroll amongst the aisles of the plots, a distant view is all that is offered. Nevertheless, this view did allow for the impressive geometric pattern formed by the garden beds to be admired, as well as appreciation for the subtle colour variations of the different soils. It is a seemingly understated installation for the prestigious space that has previously wowed visitors with statement pieces by the likes of Louise Bourgeoise, Anish Kapoor and Olafur Eliasson. But ‘Empty Lot’ it is not intended to overwhelm. Its very modesty in an increasingly ostentatious city is in itself rather comforting.

One of the more interesting aesthetic elements of the installation is the series of lamps scattered amongst the ordered plots; each a humble bricolage of discarded materials found in the gallery and surrounding areas. This act of recycling is characteristic of the Mexican artist’s ongoing project, Autoconstrucción (self-construction), a project about, “scarcity, solutions and ingenuity… And how you can conceive a philosophy of life that you can make something out of nothing” (as quoted by Walker Art Center). Cruzvillegas applies this metaphor for identity to ‘Empty Lot’; “My hope is that something can grow, that something can happen and in a way I look at it as a self-portrait…I am an empty lot,” he muses (as quoted by Mark Brown, The Guardian, 12/10/15). This element of hope is central to the work. Although well-lit and watered regularly, the contents of the soil and their future remain very much uncertain. Further optimistic, Cruzvillegas also hopes that “something can happen in the worst of conditions” (as also quoted by Brown, 12/10/15). A hope not just for the work, but for our greater society in its current state of unrest.

The modesty and duration of ‘Empty Lot’ allow for much needed contemplation and introspection. In a world that has become more impatient than ever, in which artworks are being digested at a rate faster than you can say, “I could’ve done that”, the work embraces a recent shift towards the universal Slow Movement. It demands patience. It encourages reflection and propagates curiosity. Constantly evolving, it must be revisited. The artist encourages visitors to look closer, to wait and to wonder as Time’s pencil slowly shapes the outcome.

With patience, the work nurtures acceptance. Despite the occasional “guerrilla gardener” (one visitor threw an apple into the soil), the future of the plots is out of one’s control. It must be accepted that there is a possibility that nothing may grow at all. Just like the Sublime works of Caspar David Friedrich and J.M.W Turner, ‘Empty Lot’ is a reminder that nature ultimately governs all.

I’d originally hoped to return to the Turbine Hall to discover a lush forest. I wanted to be wowed by the thriving greenery. However, after reflecting upon the concept of the installation, its place in London and mine as well, this had changed. I became quite attached to the romantic notion that after five months of waiting and wishing, I might return there only to discover that no change at all had occurred, but for the occasionally weed struggling to sprout. Would many be disappointed? Probably. But if there were no visible change to the plots, would the work be deemed a failure? No. And this is perhaps the most important thing to take away from the installation. Regardless of the aesthetic, superficial outcome, the work is successful in its ability to bring hope. For it is this hope that helps us cope with the waiting and the unavoidable moments of uncertainty. And then? If things aren’t so green on the other side? We are reminded that, no matter how optimistic we may be, some things are simply out of our control. To understand that, is to grow.