"In the scope of civilization, the subterranean realm remains largely unchanged. Isolated in darkness for hundreds of millions of years, the sunless underworld encompasses majestic ancient formations gradually eroded into existence. With interiors reminiscent of classical temples, caverns are testaments to nature's patient hand. As if cast into existence with an alternate sense of time, I find each room enveloped in undulating patterns of textural tapestries; from uncanny biomorphic shapes to complex Cubist tableaux of interlocking geology, an otherworldly realm lies still before me.
This is Karst geology, formed through chemical interaction of rainwater with limestone and other soluble minerals. Through steady seepage, networks of sinkholes very gradually dissolve into streams, rivers, and valleys. Locations of sustained ground-water movement and mineral deposition forge decorative fragile formations called speleothems—towering stalagmites, stalactites, columns, drapery, flow-stone, and mirror lakes. Re-explored in the early 19th - 20th centuries, these natural places once sheltered indigenous communities, Civil War soldiers, and even hid moonshiners' stills during Prohibition. Settlers adapted caverns for storage; Union and Confederate troops mined saltpeter for gunpowder; outlaws used them as hideouts; and cathedral-high rooms became makeshift speakeasies. The advent of radio and an increasing middle-class spawned a multi-generational cottage industry of “show caverns”, inviting novelty-seekers into curated experiences.
Historically, the natural world has vastly shaped civilization and human perspective. Thinking about these complex rooms as projected interior 3D maps, I use adapted indirect illumination to reveal an otherwise lost geology of texture, scale, and grandeur. Abstract spaces inspire a spatial stillness within me, as if in awe after discovering new terrain on alien worlds. While contemporary industry has made caverns more accessible, groundwater pollution, sustained temperature increases, and unchecked development make these areas ripe for protection. In ecosystems overburdened by tourism and population growth, I feel intrinsic tension between human intervention and commodification of the natural world. Like historic architecture enduring the test of time, I ponder how the future will experience these resplendent interiors—the antipodes of our brighter, above-ground world."