I often approach nature as a domain divorced from time. Amid the hustle and bustle of life in the industrialized world, nature struck me as a refuge where the clock ceased to spin. Visiting Elizabeth Bradford’s exhibition Warp Weft Water Weeds, a compilation of twenty-two landscapes documenting fairly banal occurrences in the natural world with vibrant colors, at the Van Smith Gallery at Davidson College, I saw a fluid view of nature which contradicted my preconceptions. In an introductory paragraph, Bradford acknowledges “(over)development and climate change” as drivers of temporal shifts. Still, her fundamental point is far more basic and universal: the world is always in a state of change. To this end, she depicts constant disturbances in water, emphasizes the fleeting quality of natural phenomena, and introduces perspective as an actor unto itself.
When one enters the Warp Weft Water Weeds, one of the most instantaneously striking things is the third word: water. In paintings like Duckweed As Constellations, Stoneroller Nest with Redlip Shiners, and Rain on Lake Lila, the bodies of water shown are in a state of disturbance. In contrast, none of Bradford’s twenty-two featured works depict a still body of water. Nothing—not a child throwing a rock nor a branch falling into water—exists to justify these ripples in the first two pieces. Similarly, in Rain on Lake Lila, the extent of the ripples is too large to be solely attributable to the titular precipitation. This artistically positions water as something perpetually in motion, even when no visual stimulus exists for its movement. This dissonance displays Bradford’s overarching pursuit: using nature as a microcosm for life. Although people sometimes experience stability and feel as though their lives are not changing, this view of water lends itself to a different reality. Be it water in a river or a human life, everything is always evolving. Sometimes, we need help recognizing those shifts, which Bradford provides here through art.
Water is not the only physical medium where change is unavoidable; Bradford highlights ephemeral moments in nature to this end. She frames these happenings’ temporary quality as one of its distinguishing factors. This emphasis presents itself through titles like Southwest Virginia, January; July Wildflowers; October Walk, Puddle; and October, Mountain Island Lake, which place time centrally in describing the scene. This reminds viewers that the natural phenomena she depicts are elusive. Soon, October will make way for November. The next October, a puddle may form in a new location with a new shape, while the lake landscape may materialize differently. This moment is unique—and thus especially valuable—as the only time conditions will ever materialize in that particular, marvelous way. Dying Poke represents another example of this mentality in action. Capturing both a distinctive stage in the plant’s demise and the death and therefore the end of its existence, Bradford paints a fleeting image that had already changed by the time her preliminary sketch was complete. This shows the falsehood of an atemporal nature, contradicted by the natural world on a daily basis. By celebrating time’s unrelenting presence through art, Bradford prescribes embracing, not denying, the changes of life.
Bradford also acknowledges perspective’s central role in our perception of time and change. When I first observed Dying Poke, I did so from mere feet away, muddling my attempt to decipher the art with a strange cacophony of chaotic scribbles dominating my vision. As I walked away to observe another painting, I realized I could suddenly understand Dying Poke better from farther away, the vibrant colors of the plant appearing clear as the once prevailing scratches were relegated to the background. The effect of these scribbles was intentional, reflecting another wise observation from Bradford about time: much as hindsight is 20/20, things often grow clearer as you get farther away from them. Much as my initial position viewing the art blinded me to its full form, excessive chronological proximity to a major point of change can limit others’ perceptions of its impacts.
Imbued in each of Elizabeth Bradford’s twenty-two paintings in Warp Weft Water Weeds, in between vivid details from the natural world, lie deep observations on the passage of time and our relationship with it. Her central message regarding time’s invincibility and inevitability initially struck me as disheartening. Once internalized, however, the exhibit’s lesson is liberating, for change is always happening, regardless of our feelings. Our only choice is whether to embrace those changes with open arms.
Works Cited
Warp Weft Water Weeds. 13 Feb.-4 Apr. 2025, Van Every/Smith Galleries, North Carolina.
Images
Pictures via Davidson College Art Galleries
Rain on Lake Lila
October Walk, Puddle
Dying Poke
