Gehry, whose deconstructed music pavilion sits behind the visitors' centre, has designed a series of platforms from which to observe a piece by Californian Tony Berlant – the artist whose colourful 60s tin scraps pinned to plywood inspired Gehry's award-winning Guggenheim museum in Bilbao.
It was a dry, stone-filled riverbed, filled with a geometry of cinder-block and tin-scrap dwellings, one of which was her house, a twelve-foot-square cinder-block structure that she rented for the equivalent of about three hundred U.S. dollars a year.
Under a sapping Georgia sun, Tammia Bartlett, a volunteer tour guide in a turquoise polo shirt, led a small group of visitors today toward a mass of dilapidated shacks made of rusty tin and scrap wood.
Washing and grey tin and scraps of wood, and rats, and children.
Several processes have been devised for reclaiming the metal from scrap tin or tin-plated articles.
By January 1942, as a kid of 7, I was collecting tin cans and scrap paper.
Shacks made of corrugated tin, cardboard, and scrap wood, many without electricity or running water, sprawl for miles along mostly unmarked dirt roads, punctuated by beauty parlors and fruit stands in structures no bigger than British telephone booths.
VIDEO: Watch now "We work in the garbage containers, collecting tin cans, copper, scrap metal, aluminium, whatever we can find," Besnik Hasanik says with a sad, gap-toothed smile.
"Repurposed" is too weak a word to do justice to his ingenuity when confronted with a scrap of tin.
Eugène Atget photographed their hovels, cobbled together from odd scraps of tin and lumber.
