Brian M. John

Tetrapods are concrete wave-dissipating structures which interlock with one another and are used to prevent the erosion of shores, as well as human-made structures. Their shape allows waves to flow around them, rather than against them, dissipating their force. 

The tetrapod’s form feels primal, as if it was discovered, more than invented. Other wave-dissipating structures exist, but the tetrapod was one of the earliest designs and remains in use more than half a century since its invention. Something like half of Japan’s shoreline has been altered by concrete, most often tetrapods. Like the massive wind farms of the 21st century, tetrapods commonly provoke a negative aesthetic reaction from those who are interested in considering them beyond their practical effects. Denaturing our shorelines is an affront to some, a grand achievement to others. Still others of us find the form captivating in and of itself, and love them despite our better judgement.

Breakwater is a meditation on the cultural, political and geological implications of the tetrapod. Though it implicitly leverages the aesthetic appeal of the object’s form, the tetrapods are not elevated as a traditional objet d'art. In the site-responsive instantiation of the work, a group of tetrapods is placed as an obstruction on the gallery floor, fulfilling its purpose as a dissipating structure, though the forces that it dissipates are human and social.

The tetrapod is an icon of the anthropocene, an indelible mark that our species has left on the landscape, a sign of our ongoing attempt to bend nature to our will. In our hubris, we combat the implacable sea itself.