By John Thomason
By Benjy Caplan
By Artburst Miami
By Carlos Suarez De Jesus
By Daniel Reskin
Ann Lorraine Labriola's sculpture Stargazer sits on the ocean floor five miles southeast of Key West in eighteen feet of water. On a brilliantly sunny Saturday afternoon recently, a light breeze wrinkled the surface as the artist and her boyfriend approached the site in his fishing boat. After the boat was anchored, Labriola donned fins, mask, and snorkel, then jumped into the water and swam off -- in the wrong direction. Soon she spotted her piece and corrected her course. She didn't select this location for its easy accessibility. The most important consideration in placing her work was its potential to function as an artificial reef; the site required a bare ocean floor and a brisk current carrying organisms that could adhere to the structure and create a habitat for fish.
Now Labriola has plans to construct a similar sculpture much closer to shore off the southern tip of Miami Beach. In the works for three years, the South Beach project has been approved by all appropriate governmental agencies. But the construction and installation costs, which the artist estimates at $500,000, remain an obstacle. And another potential problem has surfaced from an unexpected source: the Miami Beach Chamber of Commerce.
Not that the civic group is opposed to Labriola's efforts. On the contrary, Ken English, head of the chamber's Water Sports Marketing Council, is enthusiastic -- perhaps too enthusiastic. He envisions Labriola's sculpture as being just one fun component of an "underwater theme park." English's idea is to surround the proposed sculpture with other objects as part of an offshore tourist attraction that would increase Miami's allure as a dive destination and result in big bucks for city businesses during the slow summer season.
Seen from the air through the transparent waters off Key West, Labriola's Stargazer looks like a mysterious, symbolic representation of a bird, its beak pointing southwest toward the Sand Key light. The work's sudden appearance amid the expanse of blue is unexpected and intriguing.
From a diver's perspective the sculpture becomes both abstract and dynamic. Ten individual structures, each supported by steel legs, stretch some 200 feet across the ocean floor. Some resemble giant submerged tables, with perforations designed to simulate night-sky constellations used by mariners for navigation. A large circle with cross beams becomes a mandala that can be contemplated by floating above or beneath it. From the underwater vantage point, the pieces of the sculpture appear monumental and seem to extend indefinitely along the oceanic landscape.
Since its installation in September 1992, Stargazer's surfaces have become encrusted with soft and hard corals and covered with undulating plants, creating a luscious living tapestry of textures and colors. This afternoon the area is crowded with schools of grouper, blue-lipped angel fish, and lobsters that have found refuge under the structures.
"I want my art to be functional to the environment," says Labriola, a fit 42-year-old clad in a green bathing suit and shorts with a Peanuts cartoon motif. She climbs back into the rocking boat with ease. "My sculpture is really just a skeleton. Nature makes it a work of art. Where there was a desert, a garden has grown."
Like other so-called earth, or site, artists who see nature not as the setting for a piece of art but as an integral part of the artwork, Labriola hopes to draw attention to the surrounding beauty of the environment while emphasizing man's often destructive interaction with nature -- especially with regard to South Florida's delicate reefs. "You're totally immersed in the sculpture, you're not just looking at it as an object," stresses the Key West artist, whose other large projects include a two-mile-long rock sculpture in the Nevada desert and an underwater installation off Culebra, Puerto Rico. "What's important is not just the art but where the art is placed."
In this case, the work is effective. While it may not provoke the initial morbid thrill of seeing an old airplane or freighter lying on the ocean bottom, the sculpture's calculated composition and full exposure to divers offer a richer meditative experience than the wrecks more commonly used as artificial reefs. Conceptually and aesthetically it succeeds as a work of art within its environment, unlike the popular underwater Christ of the Abyss in Key Largo -- simply a submerged statue with kitsch appeal.
Labriola conceived her latest proposed underwater sculpture for a site off Key Biscayne, but Bruce Henderson, an environmental specialist with the City of Miami Beach, encouraged her to propose the project for installation off lower South Beach as part of a shallow-water artificial reef program in that area. The all-steel Galaxy, 217 feet long and 155 feet across at its widest point, suggests a pendulum emerging from a large object shaped like a spiral galaxy (also similar to the meteorological symbol for a hurricane) and swinging across a great arc. Solar panels would power an underwater lighting system to illuminate the sculpture for several hours each night.
After a coastal engineering firm studied plans for the work and found that it would have no adverse impact on the beach or wildlife, the Florida Department of Environmental Protection granted the artist a permit to place the sculpture approximately 600 feet offshore from Penrod's Beach Club, in roughly eighteen feet of water just north of Government Cut.