Watershed

Watershed is a collection of new works by Megan Lightell exploring sites along the Stones River. These pieces document the river as it winds through the rapidly changing landscape surrounding Nashville, offering moments of reflection and natural refuge.

Dates: September 2 - October 1, 2023, opening reception September 2, 5-8pm

Artist: Megan Lightell

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Artist Statement

This series began on a summer day in my kayak on the Stones River tailwaters, a favorite stretch of water between the Percy Priest Dam and the confluence with the Cumberland River. Unless the dam is releasing water, this section of river tends to be still and flat, filled with wildlife and moments of silence. It is a place I have frequented for years, but on one particular day when the water was low, I noticed signs of human presence that had been under the surface. An entire dumpster, a shopping cart dangling from vines on the riverbank, and discarded tires made me wonder more about the land upstream, and what was happening around the water before it arrived at that spot.

I began exploring the lake above the dam, and beyond that, the headwaters that converged to form it, sketching and making field notes. Along the tributaries lay factories and bulldozed, clearcut burning fields just beyond the river banks, making way for construction of roads and buildings. Some days on the water, I wouldn’t see another person. On others, I crossed paths with fishermen, families, and folks who recalled the details of battles fought along the riverbanks, and remembered the dam being built by the Army Corps of Engineers in the 1960s. I slept under the stars at the lake’s edge, waking before dawn to paddle out on the glass-calm water.

In the past, my work has been an anticipation of loss, solastalgia in a time of change that often feels like it is pressing in from all directions and changing our environment, shifting the ground beneath our feet. What I have learned from the river this season is less about grief and more about joy and wonder, though. Painting under the silent swoosh of Heron’s wings, watching the sunset turn the water to the color of metal, I see that this water carries life, surprises, histories. Making this work has been a reminder of the idea from the Greek philosopher Heraclitus that one cannot step in the same river twice, that change is constant.

These days, the signs of change are everywhere. Here in Nashville we are in an endless conversation about growth: how to house and sustain more people who want to join our community, while protecting the things that make this place welcoming and alive. Often the land is only seen as a grid on a map to be sold and scraped and built upon, with little sensitivity to how it fits into a wider ecosystem, and how the loss of green spaces will affect us all.

With each passing month we can feel a shift happening around us. This season, I found myself planning studio days around excessive heat warnings and wildfire smoke maps. When I was out sketching trees on the riverbank through the haze, I would think about the trees burning hundreds of miles to the north and the ways that upstream actions have downstream effects, wondering if we are reaching a turning point in the way we consider our place in the wider world.