Wilson Room

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 exis-
tence. 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 speleo-
thems-towering stalagmites, stalactites, columns, drapery, flow-stone, and mirror lakes. Re-explored and further
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 Con-
federate 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 in-
dustry 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 tex-
ture, scale, and grandeur. Abstract spaces inspire a spatial stillness within me, as if in awe after discovering new ter-
rain on alien worlds. While contemporary industry has made caverns more accessible, groundwater pollution, sus-
tained temperature increases, and unchecked development make these areas ripe for protection. In ecosystems over-
burdened by tourism and population growth, I feel intrinsic tension between human intervention and commodifi-
cation of the natural world. Like historic architecture enduring the test of time, I ponder how the future will experi-
ence these resplendent interiors-
-the antipodes of our brighter, above-ground world.