Viewed from above, the undulating swells of earth that comprise Storm King Wavefield appear naturally to rise from and roll along the grassy terrain. This monumental earthwork by Maya Lin, framed by Schunnemunk Mountain to the west and the Hudson Highlands to the south and east, inspires a broad perspective on the landscape from which it emerges and entices exploration of the grassy alleys between the cresting peaks. Its seven component waves, each nearly four hundred feet long and ranging from ten to fifteen feet high, proceed at the same scale as a series of midocean waves. The resulting effect recalls the experience of being at sea, where sight of both adjacent waves and the land beyond is lost between the swells.

Storm King Wavefield is the largest publicly accessible work in a series of five made by Lin (others include works in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and Miami, Florida). Lin chose the eleven-acre site for Storm King Wavefield deliberately, seizing the opportunity to rework a former gravel pit that had supplied surface material for the New York State Thruway. When Storm King was founded in 1960, a significant portion of its grounds consisted of gravel mined from the surrounding fields. As the ravaged landscape was rehabilitated, it was shaped anew by the very same gravel. This compelling, little-known story excited Lin. “I’ve tended to create works on the edges and boundaries of places. . . . I always knew that I wanted to culminate the series with a field that, literally, when you were in it, you became lost inside it.” Lin collaborated with landscape architects to utilize the existing earth, and with the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation to change the site’s designation from a mine to an artwork. The low-impact grasses and natural drainage system she introduced make Wavefield an organic, living work that continues to evolve. 

Growing up in rural Ohio, Lin visited the ancient earthen mounds of the Indigenous Hopewell and Adena cultures. She learned about Japanese gardens and architecture from her father, a ceramist and dean of the College of Fine Arts at Ohio University, Athens. These early experiences, along with the influential innovations of earthwork artists in the 1960s and 1970s, helped shape what has become Lin’s lifelong interest in working with the landscape. 

Lin earned great prominence early on, while still a student at Yale University, for her Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. Breaking from more typical memorial formats, Lin’s striking design features a deep cut into the earth that is at once profoundly minimal and metaphorical. Such qualities have been a throughline in her prolific career in art and architecture, along with a sustained commitment to environmentalism. What Is Missing?, a multisite, ongoing project that Lin considers her final memorial, seeks to bring awareness to the current crisis surrounding biodiversity and habitat loss. “Whether it’s art, architecture, or memorials,” she notes, “I realize now that all my work is intrinsically tied to the natural landscape around us.