Anthropocene is the most recent buzzword for a proposed geological epoch that signifies the moment humanity began its impact on Earth’s ecosystems.

Artist Karen Lené Rudd’s three-part gallery installation which bares this epoch’s name is currently on display at the Jefferson County Museum of Art and History through
Sept. 18.

While some argue the anthropocene dates back to the Agricultural Revolution 15,000 years ago, others point to the detonation of the first atomic bomb, but for Rudd, “My mind goes straight to the Industrial Era.”

The sooty tones of that age immediately greet the viewer of the installation which gives a unique perspective on the past in contrast to the photographs and artifacts of the museum that have hung on the walls for years.

A thin line of sculpture first enters the field of vision and could easily be passed by unless one stops to take a closer look at the meticulous detail on display.

This miniature tableau, the title piece of the exhibit, is made from scavenged plastic gears and packing materials, castaways of our consumer-culture, sculpted into a railroad track of black and broken dreams.

Like the layers of soot in Arctic ice scientists now study to measure pollution, the work “conjures an impermeable carbon layer,”  essayist Kathleen Garrett says of Rudd’s work.

“We are left to consider that our impact on the earth’s ecology, though undeniably considerable and dire, is, in the grand sweep of time, but one lone, skinny layer among tens of thousands,” Garrett writes.

In stark contrast to this rail of miniature, Rudd’s centerpiece, “Last Stand,” towers over the room with a recreation of an old growth stump with a floating slice of tree suspended in the air above it like a halo for a fallen angel, all made out of cardboard the artist foraged from recycling bins.

“It’s really a story about loss,” Rudd said.

Surrounding this are more stumps and slices which evoke the violent moment of sheering more than the mossy seats we often see in the Pacific Northwest, highlighting the tragedy of what’s been lost while capturing the beauty in her textures of the bark and many rings.

Each stump took nine months for Rudd to create, which may be a lot in human time, though it’s nothing near the 1,500 years the Western Red Cedars and Douglas Firs the work is based on could have lived.

On her website, Rudd describes the experiences leading up to the inspiration for the work during time spent on an archeological dig in the north Cascades.

“In one brief, unforgettable moment I understood Deep Time; geologic time that makes our human hours, minutes, and years feel ridiculously small,” she writes.

Between the realm of miniature and majestic lies the human in “Common Thread,” the third piece in Rudd’s installation.

For these, Rudd sewed garments from Industrial Age patterns on antique sewing machines using kraft paper from the Port Townsend Paper Mill as her material.

There are few more controversial topics in Port Townsend than the paper mill, but Rudd’s work is “neither a condemnation nor a celebration,” she says.

“Everything is complex,” Rudd said, “the mill included.”

More than anything, Rudd hopes to surprise people, to wake them up a little, she said.

“I’m not here to preach, or dictate, or change people’s minds,” Rudd said, continuing, “I don’t want to be prescriptive. Some people interpret it very differently and I’m OK with that.”

There will be an artist’s talk with Rudd at the museum Saturday, July 30 for those who want to give the artist their interpretations, but space is limited to only 35 seats.