Natasha Lavdovsky

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June 2023 AiR

Natasha (Tasha) Lavdovsky is a neurodivergent artist & amateur lichenologist, who grew up in traditional Tsawout First Nations unceded Territory (on so-called Vancouver Island). In 2009 Tasha obtained a bachelor's degree in studio art and art history from Princeton University where she/they also studied geology, oceanography and environmental studies. Since 2011, Tasha has been committed to deepening their understanding of anti-colonial perspectives and environmental stewardship, which greatly informs her ecologically oriented work in video, performance, photography, installation, textiles and sculpture. Tasha recently completed an MFA in Intermedia Studio Art remotely through Concordia University while living in Pacheedaht Territory. Tasha’s current work focuses on ecological reciprocity interventions and subversive approaches to public art. 

Image: Tasha Lavdovsky

Lichen Hand Habitat (Letharia Vulpina), 2023

About the work:

In the early weeks for the pandemic in March 2020, I left Montreal where I had been attending grad school and drove across the country to return home to the west coast. Near the end of my journey I pulled over at a rest stop outside Osoyoos, BC where I saw a man cutting down some trees at the side of the highway. I walked over for a closer look and saw the ground was yellow, blanketed with fallen Letharia Vulpina lichens from the tree he was cutting. I gathered a bag full of these neon yellow lichens, planning to make dye with them. 

I never did use most of the lichens I collected, and instead I focussed on local lichen species on the island where I live (which I could collect in abundance after storms). I played around with making lichen hands using nitrile gloves, but still had not made a proper hand mold. It wasn't until 3 years later, at the Similkameen Artist Residency, that I finally set out to make a silicone hand mold. I brought my letharia vulpina lichens with me just in case I would need them. After 5 days in Keremeos, I realized this was my opportunity to return the letharia vulpina lichens back to the location where I had collected them, in the shape of a hand. Since my lichen hand sculptures fall apart when they get moist (part of their charm), I experimented with melting ponderosa pine pitch and mixing it into the lichens before casting them in the mold.

On the last night before I left, Alexandra (the long term artist resident) and I drove past Osoyoos up into the hills and returned to the same rest stop where I had gathered the Letharia vulpina lichens at the start of the pandemic. I mounted the lichen hand to the recumbent tree that these lichens had been growing on. For me this was a ritual of letting go; not only of the fear of covid-19 that I have been carrying for 3 years, but also a ritual of letting go of all the people, opportunities, and ways of life that we have all lost. The lichen hand is still sitting on the tree outside Osoyoos, although the rain has most likely disintegrated the hand shape, and the lichens are probably sitting on the ground in a messy pile, as they were before I picked them up.