Change isn’t coming to our local grasslands. It’s here. Catclaw, Lehman lovegrass, yellow bluestem: these are invasive plants crowding out our native grasses.
But there is one place where blue grama, tanglehead and little bluestem are immortal, where the innocence of these grasses—unaware of their shrinking numbers—is forever preserved. And that is in the artwork of Matilda Essig, “Tilda” to her friends.
Using a high-resolution digital scanner, or as Essig puts it, “a flatbed scanner on steroids from the next universe,” she captures single blades of native grasses in a way neither the eye nor camera can. The result is the most truthful representation of a species without the distortion of fixed-point perspective.
Essig originally started scanning plants as part of her work with the University of Arizona Herbarium. It allowed her to access details not visible to the naked eye.
“The scans were so beautiful I decided to use them as fine art,” Essig said.
In 2005, she was gifted Joseph Scheer’s book “Night Visions: The Secret Designs of Moths” which showcased the beauty of moths as seen though high resolution digital scanning – original scans up to 5200 true optical dpi. Following a residency at Alfred University’s Institute for Electronic Art, where Scheer taught, Essig employed the tool in her work.
“I think a lot of people go through life without ever seeing the small beauties,” Essig said. And that is how she sees the grasses, an intricate tapestry beckoning to be examined more closely.
“There are a ton of so many different characters out there, and they are different for a reason,” she said. “I don’t know all the reasons. The scientists don’t know all the reasons.” Regardless, she can appreciate them individually. And that is how she portrays them in her art—as single specimens.
Essig, the daughter of portrait painter Joseph R. Essig of Philadelphia, who counted the 34th President Dwight D. Eisenhower among his subjects, moved from the East to Arizona in 1985. In Tucson she worked to get the Sonoran Desert a Biosphere Reserve designation from UNESCO. At the same time, she created natural science illustrations for the Arizona Sonoran Desert Museum.
“I learned a lot about different cultural appreciations of nature,” Essig said. She also learned about the complexity of the desert ecosystem.
But the grasslands were her epiphany. In an article she wrote for the journal Ecological Restoration, Essig explained the holistic insight the grasses gave her. “If you look closely at these ornate grass characters, we see visual beauty. When we understand the delicate scientific balance, we appreciate ecological beauty. When we act to protect this landscape, we gain philosophical or intellectual beauty. When we admit we love these places, we experience spiritual beauty. And these beauties speak to a higher consciousness and work to motivate us in positive ways.”
An early mentor for Essig was John W. Donaldson Jr.—rancher, horseman, conservationist—who, for over 30 years, managed ranching operations at the Empire Ranch.
“I was invited to do a poster for the dedication of the Las Cienegas National Conservation Area back in 2001,” Essig said. New to the community, she saddled up for a ride with Donaldson. What she heard in his voice as they moved through the grasses was a reverence and sense of pride that came from helping the land heal.
“He was the one that knocked on the door of my perceptual framework,” Essig said. “He gave me the real ‘aha’ moment, the realization that half of what goes on with grasslands is underground.”
Essig also had great teachers in her own backyard. The Jelks, Rukin Senior and Junior, were neighbors. From them she learned to scout for specimens in the cool, early morning or at dusk when the grasses are at their best.
“So, the process goes like this: go out and explore—have an experience searching—gain a big dose of inspiration, and come back with 10,000 more grasses than you could ever scan before they wilt,” Essig said.
“Matilda’s hyper-real and gorgeous detailed images of root systems or grasses have become icons of the ecological restoration and perennial agriculture movement in the plains and prairies,” said Gary Nabhan, an internationally recognized desert ecologist who resides in Patagonia. “They are celebrated by national conservation leaders like Wes Jackson and Curt Meine, but most of all, they affirm how ‘rooted in place’ Tilda is in how she lives and loves nature.”
A folio by Essig, “Native Grasses of the Apache Highlands,” is now in special collections at UCLA, the University of Arizona, Yale, the University of Wisconsin and the University of Wyoming. Locally, Essig’s work can be seen at the Bowman-Stradling History Center at the Santa Cruz County Fairgrounds.
To contact Matilda Essig, visit matildaessig.com