When I set foot in the cavernous Georgetown Steam Plant, it was like entering a time machine. The hulking tanks, pipes, and rows of gleaming pressure gauges all seem plucked from a steampunk Tumblr page. “Are these stairs up to code?” I joked to my friend as we ascended rickety wooden steps to the upper level. Dusk light cast the brass railings in shades of gold.
The steam plant is one of Seattle’s best-kept secrets. Built in 1906, just as Seattle’s population was skyrocketing, the plant once powered our electric streetcar system. But as Seattle shifted to hydropower, it soon became obsolete. When the Duwamish River was rerouted in 1911 to allow for larger ships, the plant lost easy access to its water source. It was ultimately decommissioned in 1977, and declared a National Historical Landmark in 1984.
Today, the space is an arts and education hub, with year-round circus, dance, and photography shows. On Saturday, May 13, local photographer and School of Art + Art History + Design professor Eirik Johnson’s show “Leviathan Rising” debuted there. It will be on display through Sunday, May 21, and is free and open to the public.
His exhibition uses the distinct moods of the steam plant to its advantage. The main turbine hall, with its high ceilings and echoey acoustics, is the ideal venue for Johnson’s sound piece. With its rumbling, pulsating tones, his score evokes industrial activity.
Visitors may be surprised, then, to learn that it’s actually composed of recordings from beneath the Duwamish River. Johnson spurs the visitor to step back in time once again and reflect on the river’s original path.
On the plant’s upper level, visitors cross a slender bridge to reach the dark, shadowy boiler room. In this more intimate space, Johnson has projected his gorgeous, beguiling photographs. It’s impossible to resist the urge to stick your head in the coal shoveling holes and shout, “Hello?”
Having read about the project beforehand, I played a game with friends, asking them to guess what the photos depict. Most were totally stumped. With their swirling patterns and hues of burnt orange, cyan, and teal, the photos look more like abstract art than, well, photos. Forgive me for spoiling the answer: These are, in fact, the hulls of boats docked on the shores of the Duwamish. The buildup of rust, salt, and other debris create otherworldly colors and shapes.
One of the joys of “Leviathan Rising” is letting your imagination run wild and spin interpretations. To me, these pools of rust evoke flowers, while deep scratches look like claw marks. Either way, you won’t look at boats the same way after seeing these photos.
The art and steam plant have a symbiotic relationship, each informing the other. One woman wondered, as she poked her head into a dusty office, “Is this part of it?” Indeed, it’s hard to tell what’s art and what isn’t. Johnson’s work thrives off of just this kind of synthesis, marrying the industrial with the graceful. Whether you’re a STEM major or an arts kid, “Leviathan Rising” is a must-see.
More information on the Georgetown Steam Plant and “Leviathan Rising” can be found on their respective websites.
Reach writer Alison Jean Smith at arts@dailyuw.com. Twitter: @AlisonSmith1889
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