Royalty - Lars Baggenstos

February 1 - April 26, 2025
Central Gallery

Royalty

Lars Baggenstos

Lars Baggenstos is a sculptor and forestry surveyor – his source material is wood gleaned from what the logging industry leaves behind in the backcountry. Having spent many hours and days in the field, he is intimately aware of logging practices across the Kootenay Boundary, witnessing firsthand their impact on the landscape and surrounding environment. As a sculptor, his medium of choice is wood sourced from the cut blocks that he has surveyed. Entering the Central Gallery, the viewer is confronted with a large pile of tree root balls which are arranged to form a base for a group of sculptural figures. Gathered from ditches, clear cuts, slash, and burn piles, tree trunks are shaped with chainsaws and chisels into majestic human figures. Just one crucial part is missing: the head. Fragile and headless the sculptures stand in the gallery as if they have lost their senses somewhere.

In a desperate measure the wooden bodies try to replace the void between their shoulders with uprooted tree stumps. These ill-fitting crowns made from the detritus of clearcuts encourage us to question our thoughtless consumption of the last stands of old growth as well as the underpinnings of a forest economy upon which we all rely. Royalty reflects on the industrial logging practices of British Columbia from the dual perspective of an artist embedded in the industry. Bridging both careers, Baggenstos is acutely aware of how necessary a flourishing forest industry is for British Columbia and its inhabitants, the rest of the country, and the world.
Trees and their wood are the material of the past, present, and future. Sustainably harvested, they can provide lumber for construction and wood fibre can be converted into electricity, fuels, plastics, solvents, and lubricants. That is the idea, at least. However, on closer examination something seems horribly wrong with this equation. The rate at which trees are consumed and the way forests are harvested feels like a frantic race – particularly the headless consumption of the last stands of old growth which are the true royalty of trees. While these majestic and mighty stands of giant trees that tower above and make us feel humble when we are privileged wander amongst them seem eternal, they are dwindling in the face of industrial logging, climate change, and resource development.

The multiple meanings of both “royalty” and “crown” address the inherent contradiction between our understanding of forests as ecosystems with intrinsic value for all and as resources with economic value which benefit some. Crown timber means timber located on Crown or public land – it includes timber for which the Crown issues harvest licenses and receives a royalty in return. Notwithstanding that most of Crown Land in British Columbia is on unceded Indigenous territory, the term Crown conjures notions of stewardship, caretaking, leadership, and legacy, while Royalty is majestic, sovereign, and timeless. The double meaning of both these terms highlights a disconnect between perception and reality. Stewardship or the lack thereof of Crown Land in exchange for royalty payment is especially visible from the bird’s eye perspective. Reduced to a checkerboard pattern of clear cuts, the backcountry of British Columbia is largely degraded to a simple but giant tree farm. Fast growing species of trees are planted Tools of the trade by the thousands in the same age classes, creating weak forest monocultures rather than the healthy multi story forest we see in areas where nature is left on its own or in carefully managed forests where trees are selectively logged. Baggenstos’ powerful portrayal of the forest as a physical being confronts us with the paradox of our disconnection from the natural world. Despite our increasingly online, post-industrial existence, much of our economy relies directly or indirectly on resource extraction. This is true regardless of where we live; the direct impacts are merely more visible in rural communities. There are no easy answers given, these sculptures only ask us to consider how much is enough, whether the ends justify the means, and ultimately, in what kind of world do we want to live? These are the choices that we collectively need to make before it is too late for the last remnants of forest royalty.