In 2012 Andrew S. Yang was chatting with a colleague about Charles Darwin, marveling at how the famed naturalist once gathered seeds from mud caked onto a bird and grew 82 plants representing five species. It got him thinking about the seeds modern birds carry.
Yang, a professor at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, is also a research associate at the Field Museum of Natural History, where scientists preserve birds for its . Many of those birds died colliding into buildings in the Chicago area and were brought in by the volunteer group .
Every year, hundreds of millions of birds die after hitting buildings in the United States alone. Each bird-strike death is a tragedy, but Yang sees a secondary disaster in their demise: a dead end for the seeds they consumed鈥攚hat he calls the 鈥渆cology of interruption.鈥 Now a decade in the making, his project gives the seeds he removes from casualties鈥 bellies the life they could have had if the bird continued flying and deposited them on fertile soil.
He throws clay pots and glazes them in colors, patterns, and textures evocative of the seeds鈥 avian couriers, including White-throated Sparrow, Swainson鈥檚 Thrush, Cedar Waxwing, and Canada Goose. Yang plants the seeds in the corresponding vessel, one pot per bird. As in nature, some sprout; most don鈥檛.
鈥淪ome people think it鈥檚 horribly grisly,鈥 Yang says. 鈥淚 see it as celebrating the birds and the plants.鈥 A way to honor and bring attention to life needlessly lost.
Yang, whose Ph.D. is in ecology and evolution, hopes people come away from his project with a greater sense of interconnectedness. 鈥淏irders are interested in birds, plant people are interested in plants, people who live in the city are interested in skyscrapers, and all of these things interact together in different ways, for better or for worse,鈥 he says. 鈥淚 would hope that someone would come away with a little more of a complex understanding about these interrelationships.鈥
Sometimes, instead of planting the seeds, Yang returns them to his own back porch feeder in the hope that another bird will come along and help them continue their journey. Yang has also photographed the seeds, stones, and insect fragments he has found and printed postcards to be sent by airmail, so the seeds can, at least metaphorically, fly again.
This story originally ran in the Spring 2022 issue. To receive our print magazine, become a member by .