WaterFire Providence is an interactive work of art that was designed by Barnaby Evans. It consists of 100 iron braziers that seem to defy physics as they float on three rivers in downtown Providence. The fires are lit at sunset and keep going until after midnight.
(Here’s Waterplace Park in the daytime. You can see the braziers are stacked with wood. On the left is the Courtyard Marriott and on the right is the Westin Hotel. Even more buildings have been put up since this picture was taken a few years ago. This area of Providence has gone through a real growth period over the last ten years.)
The WaterFire experience is really something that can’t be described, but I’ll give it a try. Imagine a communal ritual based around fire—very natural and primal—but in a modern, urban setting. The juxtaposition is part of the beauty. In order to really appreciate the full work of art, the hubby and I walk down the riverside in a slow procession of people, surrounded by the sounds, smells, and sights of city and art. For once, I don’t mind having to take a minute to pause and experience all the moment has to offer. All my senses are engaged.
(Here’s the park at night from a different angle. Providence Place Mall is in the background.)
Sight is obvious. The bright orange flames glow in the braziers, reflecting off the inky waters. Bright ash flits by us. The boats move up and down the river: the pontoons full of people, the romantic gondola designed for two, and the staff boat with the black-clad volunteers that steal up to the braziers like some kind of fire phantoms. Then there’s the city scape: the Bank of America Building (locally known as the Superman Building), which always reminds me of Dana’s apartment building in Ghostbusters; the cars driving by; the mall; the people; the bridges; and all those the city lights. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the street performers dressed as gargoyles and fortune-tellers.
Smell is pretty obvious too, given that the scent of fire is pretty distinct. These fires smell of pine and cedar. But there’s also the city smells: car exhaust, street vendors, and all those unidentifiable, funky smells that are part of city life.
Sound is prevalent as well. The wood cackles and pops as the flames hit air pockets, and the musical program that is part of the art experience echoes along the walkway (my favorite song this visit is Chopin’s “Nocturne No. 8 in D flat major” performed by Daniel Barenboim). And of course, there’s the sounds of the city: car horns, the shuffle of feet along the walkway, quiet murmurs of the crowd, and the whir of motors of both cars and boats.
Touch is more subtle. The fires send a wave of warmth across my skin. A light breeze blows my hair around my face. The stone walkway is cool and uneven beneath my sandals.
Even with having to stretch a little for taste, it was still a lovely evening.
I decided that this year the Tudor-style log cabin is my home. I imagine it’s next to a big snow mountain, but within walking distance to the center of town. (That is the Town Hall behind it.)
That’s me in the wagon…the little blond girl holding the present. In previous years I have lived in the lighthouse (it’s kind of small living quarters, though).
That’s my nine-year-old nephew and his dog, Cashew. (My nephew gave me that piece.) He’s in front of the Center for the Arts because he has my sense of creativity.
The clown always goes near the Hospital…in case there’s any sick kids stuck there for the holidays. Notice the Library and Church in the background. Also, that’s my dad (sorry I cut him off a bit) leading his horse, Beau.
My brother decided he wanted to be the kid in the party hat (he thought the kid was a wizard). It’s more likely that my brother is actually the kid throwing the snowball! The lady with the balloons reminded me of my grandmother (and she is the one who started this whole Village, so I guess she should be in it!)
This picture came out kind of psychedelic, which I thought was cool…and below is what this part of the Village (there’s more than just this table!) looks like in the dark.
