Student's time as wildland firefighter shapes U of A art exhibition
In her exhibit "This Forest Remembers Fire," School of Art graduate student Alexis Joy Hagestad explores the effects of fire suppression in the United States in the face of climate change, and also reflects on the death of her beloved grandmother in 2017, when Hagestad began working as a seasonal wildland firefighter.
In Alexis Joy Hagestad's new exhibition, viewers can walk through a fictional burned forest, watch a video with a fire map of the western United States and listen to trees moving and creaking in the wind.
"This Forest Remembers Fire" – on display at the University of Arizona Lionel Rombach Gallery through April 18 – explores the effects of fire suppression in the United States in the face of climate change. But it also allows Hagestad, a School of Art graduate student, to reflect on the death of her beloved grandmother in 2017, when Hagestad started as a seasonal worker in Montana battling wildland fires.
Alexis Joy Hagestad
"Fire can be remembered in forest ecosystems as both a destructive force and a catalyst for renewal," said Hagestad, part of the school's photography, video and imaging program for Master of Fine Arts students in the College of Fine Arts. "I wanted to create a space where people can reflect on fire's dual nature and how grief – a feeling we all experience as humans – is also part of the lives of other species within our ecosystem."
Hagestad received the school's 2024 Marcia Grand Centennial Sculpture Prize, which provides an MFA-seeking student with up to $10,000 to support completion of work in the sculptural or 3D arts.
"This Forest Remembers Fire" features Hagestad's photographs of isolated, burned tree structures arranged to allow viewers to walk through a space resembling a forest.
The installation also features a zine, or small booklet, and a video. The zine explores two realities, one where a wildfire has just happened and the other many years after a wildfire. The video presents a fire map created from satellite images of fires that have occurred over the years in the western United States.
The map, inspired by an Introduction to Cartography class Hagestad took last spring in the School of Geography, also includes an audio element: the sounds of trees moving and creaking in the wind, captured using contact microphones.
"When layered together, the audio resembles the sound of fire, which I found interesting in the context of a forest remembering fire," Hagestad said.
Family influence
Hagestad's photographic prints depict the trees as isolated forms and stripped of their original locations. "Therefore, they could exist anywhere," she said.
Growing up in Missoula, Montana, Hagestad witnessed fire season every summer.
"Smoke was constantly present," she said, so much that it burned her eyes and diffused the sun, transforming the landscape by making it darker.
Her stepfather, Dan Martin, introduced her mother, Monica Martin, to wildland firefighting. Hagestad followed in their footsteps and joined the wildfire effort after graduating with a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in art from the Savannah College of Art and Design in Georgia in 2016.
"After the death of my grandmother (Mary Wasson), to whom I was very close, wildland fire and the community involved in wildfire became a space for me to grieve," Hagestad said. "And in the wildfire community, you meet some of the best folks around.
"As I worked through my initial grief of losing her and look back on those moments now, I realize that it was just what I needed. Being in that field and engaging in the labor and demands of the job helped me understand myself better and the person I was becoming after her passing. Grief changes you, and I felt like I was growing into a whole new person, a person shaped by her death."
Thoughtful installation
School of Art Galleries Director lydia see – who does not capitalize her name – helped advise Hagestad during the planning of "This Forest Remembers Fire." She was impressed with the graduate student's knowledge of wildfires and her sense of empathy.
"Alexis has approached this installation thoughtfully, with deep reverence for the subject matter and keen attention to the experience of the gallery visitor," she said. "I'm excited for this iteration to be on view in a controlled setting, and then to be pushed outside the gallery walls in other forms in the future."
The installation also features a video, which presents a fire map created from satellite images of fires that have occurred over the years in the western United States.
Although she admits being "no expert or scientist in the field," Hagestad said her time working in the wildland – and her childhood spent exploring public lands and national parks – had a major influence on her artistic research.
"Wildfires are dangerous, especially as homes encroach on natural areas, leading to devastating impacts on communities," she said. "However, there is such a thing as beneficial and good fire. Indigenous peoples used fire to manage their lands before colonization. Many cultural burning practices were banned after colonization, and suppression became the policy. Many researchers in the field realize now that reintroducing Indigenous fire management practices is essential for healthy ecosystems, and using controlled burns can help clear underbrush and promote specific plant growth. These burns can help save our forests from catastrophic wildfires."
Growing as an artist
Hagestad chose the U of A School of Art after being impressed by previous and current students in the program and the faculty.
"I came to the U of A because I wanted to be part of an artistic community," Hagestad said. "I'm thankful to have such an amazing and supportive cohort of peers. I genuinely do not know what I'd do without them."
After earning her MFA, Hagestad hopes to teach at the college level but also to "continue discovering my voice as an artist and keep creating and growing."
In the meantime, she hopes the people who see her exhibition reflect on how fire plays a vital role in healing ecosystems.
"Learning to co-exist with good fire will ultimately benefit us and the future of our ecosystems," Hagestad said. "I hope the audience can walk through this fictional forest and recognize that their own grief – whether it stems from the loss of a loved one or ecological concerns – does not make them alone in their healing journey. Just as a forest takes many years to renew after a wildfire, so do our personal healing journeys as we navigate our feelings of grief."
A version of this article originally appeared on the School of Art website.
