Farming the Sun

Daniela Bertol's Axis Mundi

by Sparrow and photographs by Fionn Reilly, December 27, 2006

Daniela Bertol leads me on a path of white pebbles, which extends down a gentle hill. She walks three feet ahead of me, turning sometimes to speak. Then I can see her dark curious eyes, and Italian nose. In my left hand I clutch a small tape recorder. Down the hill is a small pond, its dock perfectly aligned with our path. This path runs perfectly east-west. On the equinox, the sun rises directly ahead of us. One speaks of the "spiritual path." But right now Bertol and I are literally walking on a spiritual path—a walkway whose purpose is to actualize the soul. I never expected a spiritual path to make such crunching sounds. We walk completely and totally east. How often do I know the actual compass directions around me? This path is like a line of latitude drawn on the globe. I feel as if I'm bowing toward Mecca. Directly ahead, the path passes between two tall hickory trees. The scene—dramatic, serene, almost sentimental—resembles a 19th-century landscape painting, perhaps by Constable. I smell a slightly sweet scent, which I can't place. Is it wild thyme? The sky is a troubled gray. Before I visited, Bertol sent me an e-mail with directions. At the bottom was a quote by Anatole France: "To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe." But what exactly does Bertol believe? Daniela Bertol was born in Rome, on Via Francesco Sivori, a 15-minute walk from St. Peter's Church. She attended a five-year program at the University of Rome to become an architect. Her thesis was on tensegrity structures, which were developed by Buckminster Fuller. "Buckminster Fuller was another spiritual leader," Bertol told me, laughing. "In a certain way, Buckminster Fuller was similar to the Renaissance, because he had the same holistic approach to life." Tensegrity—short for "tensional integrity"—refers to structures where "push" and "pull" are balanced, such as a geodesic dome. Bertol was an early computer artist, making images of three-dimensional geometrical solids. In 1985, her work was shown at the Cinque per Cinque Gallery in Rome. That same year, in a Roman nightclub, she met David Foell, an American architect studying in Italy. Soon after, she returned to the United States with Foell. Though she barely spoke English, she went on to write two books: Visualizing with CAD (1994) and Designing Digital Space: An Architect's Guide To Virtual Reality (1996). Bertol and her husband bought a tract of land in Claverack in 1999. The property was so overgrown that the real estate agent didn't want to show it to them. They built the house together, in 2000 to 2001. It is completely aligned on the east-west axis, and is passive solar; i.e. tall windows face south, to take advantage of the warmest hours of sunlight, and dark-colored floors absorb the heat. But the house feels like any elegant Modernist dwelling. It doesn't have the pure yearning of the outer grounds. In 2002, Bertol had a major skiing injury, breaking her femur. She spent six weeks in a wheelchair. After that, she became more involved in yoga, which she had done sporadically for years. She pursued a certification as a yoga instructor at the Integral Yoga Institute in New York City. Now Bertol practices yoga daily. She meditates on yantras and mandalas—geometric figures which balance the mind. She also practices walking meditation. Sun Farm combines several disciplines: art, architecture, horticulture, clock making, meditation, and astronomy. It is part of what Terence McKenna, the psychedelic prophet, called the "archaic revival"—a return to the practices of Druids, Aztecs, and Dravidians. Bertol's modern structures revive ancient sky-worship. She thinks the way the builders of Stonehenge thought. Sun Farm uses just two design elements: lines and spirals. The materials are either local or easily purchasable. Bertol opposes the kind of architecture that flies in rare mahogany from Africa as a statement of status. Past the twin hickories, we turn left, onto another path. Now we are heading due north. At the end of this pathway stands a rectangular structure made of three red pine logs taken from her 60-plus acres. It looks like the Greek letter Pi. "This is the Meditation Gate," Bertol announces. "Meditation is a state when your mind starts focusing into something—could be your breath, could be a mantra. At this point, we start focusing on this place, on the environment." She speaks with a strong Italian accent, and looks less like a visionary than an indulgent mother.