Let’s begin with a tour of the functionality. When you start the app, it loads some resources while displaying the title screen, and then you have the chance to view an introduction or skip ahead to the map screen.

Because the project centers around the White River near Indianapolis, we only assembled hydrological data for the area around Marion County for the application (I’ll go into more detail later). On the map screen, a prompt appears to inform you that tapping on the map will simulate a rain event. When the map is tapped, the app displays the series of streams, storm drains, and/or sanitary lines that would carry a raindrop from that location to the White River. It also displays the area (known as a drainage basin or watershed) from which other raindrops would follow the same path. Another prompt then appears to let you know that tapping on the raincloud icon allows for selection of storm intensity. As little as a quarter inch of rain can cause sewers to overflow into streams in this area, so when this option is selected, the path displayed will change to reflect this so you can see where you don’t want to go fishing. You can also toggle the display of the 100-year floodplain, which shows you where you can keep your feet dry during a big flood event. In addition to selecting a location on the map, pressing the compass icon locates your device via GPS, and typing in the address bar uses the Google Maps address look-up feature. Tapping on a question mark icon provides some information about pollutants that threaten the path upstream, as reported by the Indiana Department of Environmental Management.

Pressing the “i” icon at the top opens the informational menu. From here, you can learn more about the app, check current weather alerts and conditions, find out how weather differs from climate, get some tips on how to improve water quality, and visit the project website.

Now we can get into some behind the scenes stuff. We wanted to try to reach a broad audience with Raindrop, so we decided to put the time that we had into developing a cross-platform mobile application. These are known as web apps, in contrast to native apps. If we only had an iPhone native app in the App Store, people using Android phones wouldn’t be able to use it, and vice-versa. To handle cross-platform compatibility, we decided to build Raindrop using a framework called jqMobile, which was in a very early stage when we started. It hasn’t quite had an official release yet (it’s in its third beta release at the moment), but has become increasingly robust with each version.

As for the map, you might wonder how we figured out the path that raindrops take to get to the river. Our collaborator at Williams Creek combined information based on digital elevation models, which can be used to derive the boundaries of natural watersheds, with data from the city that indicates where all of the storm drains and sanitary systems are and which areas drain into them.

We then wrote Python scripts to read the scientific data and generate KML geometry files and look-up tables. The application uses a spatial grid look-up to figure out which basin is tapped (so it’s not perfectly accurate, but not too slow either), and then loads the appropriate file with the graphics to display for the path and the basin. It also reads information from another table that has all the details about pollutants.

Along the way, we’ve combined this technology with graphical elements and design guidance provided by Mary’s team, and scientific guidance and content from Butler. The multi-disciplinary process has really embodied the nature of Mary’s City as A Living Laboratory concept. And just as the aim is to lead curious folks from Mary’s eye-catching mirrors and markers along the river to the website and the web app to learn more, hopefully those who discover the project online will follow the raindrop and find their way down to experience the river as well.

Mary Miss has decidedly sparked many Indianapolis residents’ curiosities with the installation with her newest citywide project, FLOW: Can You See the River? with her unmistakable markers. Miss’s project hopes to make the local community aware of the White River’s functions, history and most notably, what we can do as area residents to be more aware and environmentally friendly. This project showcases the river, its watershed and how it sustains us. Mary Miss, who hails from New York, has done many projects of this scope that focus on the environment, history and sustainability.

The red fiberglass balls, juxtaposed against nature, serve as markers for points of ecological importance. The balls and mirrors (on certain markers) are complete audio descriptions that are accessible by cell phone, and links to the the project’s very own mobile app, Raindrop.  The descriptions inform and encourage visitors to recognize how their daily lives affect the White River, and conversely, how the White River and its history affects us.  (Coincidental note, the red balls were fabricated locally by artist Brian McCutcheon’s studio.  An exhibition of his work just opened at the IMA entitled, Out of this World featuring himself and his adorable son and muse, Angus).

This project extends beyond the markers with talks from Mary Miss herself and other local environmental groups. Through these collaborations, this exhibition moves beyond the museum for a truly citywide effect.

This project came upon me, an intern, in a very ambiguous form and in bits and pieces at the beginning of the summer –I did not know how these complex pieces would fall together.  Very quickly did my small part in the project become clearer as the spreadsheets and countless Word documents that I stored on my desktop had a course of action. The Mary Miss team had detailed the exact latitude and longitude of each of their markers.  Through the course of a few weeks, I input each individual marker into FLOW’s website, learning a lot a lot about a city I had recently become a new resident of. The end result is a map of Indianapolis covered in these red dots, these ecological points of importance. You may find one very close to your home or your workplace.

Come and mark the opening of Indianapolis’ very own ecological scavenger hunt (in a way) by participating in the Flow: Can You See the River? festival beginning today, along with the launch of the interactive map (and be sure to visit the website!).

Come to the IMA this evening for a talk by Mary Miss at 7pm in celebration of the opening. Join us earlier at 6pm for a reception in the lobby.

In 1972, when the IMA received the piece of land now known as 100 Acres, the area had already been affected by human use and abuse. Original disruption occurred when the site was used for farmland, until at least the 1940s. In the 1960s, the land was a staging area for highway equipment used for the  construction of the 38th street bridge, which spans the White River. The lovely, tranquil lake that so inspires viewers and artists alike began as a gravel quarry for highway construction, that later filled with flood water from the river.

1937 aerial photo of land in agricultural use

Late 1960s aerial photo of land post 38th St. construction

1971 photo of museum prior to construction digging

Although it did not occur naturally, the lake still provides a unique habitat for our resident blue heron, who remains content in his home despite the past year’s construction activity.

Blue heron, post 100 Acres opening, Sept 2010

Visual representation of ecological succession over time (many thanks to physicalgeography.net)

Path entrenched in invasive honeysuckle; beautiful, but ecologically detrimental

Native wildflowers in 100 Acres, July 2010

Despite its history, there are numerous insects, a thriving assemblage of birds, turtles, raccoons, beaver, opossums, coyote, and deer in the Park. These wildlife populations tend to remain intact because of their common adaptability to urban areas. A survey  performed by Butler University, completed in 2006, took inventory of the flora and fauna found on 100 Acres. In the four years since then, we have seen increased diversity in many of the observed plant, wildlife and bird populations. Yet there is room for improvement.  Our hope is that we can fulfill the habitat needs for less common species to move into the area, as encouraged by the studies and ongoing research from Butler, Marian University’s EcoLab, US Geological Survey and the Marion County Soil and Water Conservation District. Such collaborations are aiding the IMA in evaluating and practicing a logical land management plan.

Shy turtle residing in 100 Acres

What comes next, since 100 Acres resides in an urban environment and will have sustained human activity influencing it forever?  The IMA has taken the first steps for responsibility to the stewardship of renewal and care for the health of an important green space that allows an urban population a bit of respite from the concrete and asphalt jungle. It is time to understand that all green space is not created equal; the simple existence of green leaves and fallow land does not define the health of a landscape. Therefore, the museum’s horticulture and grounds staff is striving to restore the land to something resembling its former glory; a flood plain rich in species and beauty for the enjoyment and education of all.

Horticulture volunteers planting natives around Jaar's Park of the Laments

Native shrub planting

To find some extra motivation for my long runs, I signed up for a Mini Marathon training program with a local runners’ organization. What I didn’t realize at the time is that the training run they sponsor each week uses the White River Tow Path which runs right through the IMA campus. Bonus!

I’m always a little nervous for the long runs; I worry about not being able to run the full distance, getting attacked by geese, or tripping off the path and falling into the Canal (it could happen!) What I never have to worry about, thanks to that interlude between Michigan Road and 38th Street, is being bored. The view of the IMA campus from the Tow Path feels like a little secret that not many people are in on. That little stretch of path is witness to one of the most alive places in the whole city!

On the west side of the path, I’ve been watching the construction in 100 Acres Art Park really start to heat up. In January and February the Visitor’s Pavilion started to take shape, a shape that for me conjures thoughts of Amazon stilt houses. A few footfalls further south along the path I could see a major excavation and mysterious wall being put it. I solved the mystery by going to the 100 Acres web page and looking at the proposals for the art installations, confirming my suspicion that the work is for Alfredo Jaar’s Park of Laments. I can’t wait to meditate on Jaar’s work when it is complete. To be honest, thoughts of laments while attempting to endure my very first ten mile run were a little heavy, it’s better to keep positive…

As winter’s bareness melted into spring, my view of the 100 Acres action became obscured in green. I shifted my attention to the east side of the path. I’ve been watching in wonder as the Oldfields-Lilly House and gardens come to life. I love imagining the amazing parties that might have taken place on the back patio of the Lilly house. In my mind there is always live music, tons of lanterns and comely ladies in pretty dresses. I like thinking about young couples getting wedding pictures taken with the spring brilliance as their backdrop.

My own memories come to mind as I look up at the main building. I fondly recall watching a movie on the terrace with friends on a hot Friday night a couple of summers ago, and an electric kiss I once received in the contemporary glass gallery on the third floor. Usually I visit the museum to make memories, but when I run by I feel as though I’m visiting my memories.

Now I’ve been to the IMA countless times, as a student, an art lover, shopper, and even as a movie buff. I’ve seen artist talks, gone to special exhibits, been on romantic dates and have picnicked in the gardens. The key thing about all of my past experiences is that the IMA has been my destination. On my training runs I am merely a passer-by, and a sweaty, tired, half delirious passer-by at that. It turns out that novel perspective has become an experience all its own.

The Monon & The White River

What better place to start than at the Monon trail White River overlook? This is on the first leg of my ride, as I’m warming up.

The Monon & The Canal Towpath

Not too long after that, I turn off of the Monon and start riding down the Canal Towpath. I usually have to be ready to dodge the dozens of ducks and geese that are sleepily wandering about, but I didn’t see many today.

Broad Ripple on the canal

Broad Ripple is also looking pretty sleepy at this point in the morning. Up past this bridge is the blue bridge that crosses the canal next to College. After crossing at the light there, the towpath turns into a gravelly surface (which had puddles this morning) and continues on the south bank of the canal.

Towpath Canal Crossing

This the view from the bridge where the towpath crosses back over to the north side of the canal. We’re getting close to Butler now.

Canal Near Hinkle Fieldhouse

Here’s the sun coming up over Hinkle Fieldhouse. Great game last night, Bulldogs! I sometimes see athletes running across this bridge and down the towpath… maybe I’ve seen some of the guys on the team and didn’t even know it!

Canal near The Christian Theological Seminary

Here’s another bridge where you can see the Christian Theological Seminary in the distance. I’ve been inside and I can report that they have a very impressive organ.

Canal near 100 Acres

A little later on there’s a wooden bridge that goes underneath the Michigan street bridge. The 100 Acres Virginia B. Fairbanks Art & Nature Park is just to the right of the trail up ahead. At this point, though, I’m headed to the museum, so I turn around at the end of the bridge and head up the ramp to Michigan street.

Michigan Street & The White River

This isn’t technically on my ride, but just a little north of the ramp up to Michigan is the bridge that crosses over the White River. As the river bends to the right in the distance its passing by 100 Acres, forming the northern border.

42nd Street Gate

Okay, this one isn’t a bridge or a waterway, but it’s an important landmark. This is the gate at Michigan and 42nd street, which is a nice entry point for bikers.

Woodstock Bridge

This is a little bridge just inside the gate that’s on a road called Woodstock according to Google Maps. You can see Lilly House to the right and the entryway to The Orchard on the left. The greenhouse is also on the right.

Front Lawn at the IMA

I like to ride around to the front of the museum for this view. And now it’s time to get to work!

If you were out Sunday afternoon in Indianapolis and happened to see a sculpture flying mid-air across town, don’t worry — you weren’t imagining things.

The sculpture, East Gate/West Gate by Sasson Soffer took flight at around 6 pm and safely landed about ten minutes later. The work is one of four outdoor sculptures the IMA has loaned to Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis — otherwise known as IUPUI. Three of the sculptures were relocated earlier in the year, but East Gate/West Gate was too big to transfer via truck. Measuring 24 x 40 x 30 feet, the sculpture could only be moved via helicopter.

The IMA mapped a route along the White River that allowed for the fewest traffic interruptions, and the sculpture made a smooth landing with a welcoming crowd on IUPUI’s campus to greet it.

I bet you wish we had video of that, huh? Well, here it is, straight from the Nugget Factory:

The four IMA sculptures will join newly commissioned works of public art to be located along the Indianapolis Cultural Trail. The trail will connect neighborhoods, entertainment amenities and Indianapolis’s five downtown cultural districts. The western corridor of the trail, to be completed in 2011, will pass through the campus of IUPUI along Blackford Street and will run adjacent to two of the four sculptures from the IMA collection.

Sculptures on loan to IUPUI include:

East Gate/West Gate, 1973
Sasson Soffer (American, b. 1925)
stainless steel
24 x 40 x 30 ft.
82.56

Spaces with Iron, 1972
Will Horwitt (American, 1934 -1985)
cast iron and bronze
54 x 84 x 68 3/4 in.
81.220

Mega-Gem, 1989
John Francis Torreano (American, b. 1941)
heliarch welded aluminum plate, 36 cast aluminum anodized rosettes
7’2″ x 11′ x 7’2″
1997.6

Portrait of History, 1997
Shan Zou Zhou (Chinese, b. 1952)
Bronze
100 x 24 x 30 in.
2001.388

I searched the web for other interesting stories of relocating large pieces, but had a hard time finding anything. If you know of any, please comment about them. And if you have video or imagery — even better!!