Art at the Beach
Written by Ava Bonsall. Photography by Trinity Ray.
“I feel like I’m doing yard work,” I say with a smile as I shovel out another section of sand with the strength of someone who rarely ever works out. Regardless of the pain in my shoulders and back, I’d rather not do anything else on a Friday morning.
It’s that time of year for the Sand Arts Festival to decorate the Tybee beach with sand reliefs, sand sculptures and sand castles — all in the name of fun and environmental awareness. Students gather an hour before the starting time to scope out the competition, wait with anticipation at the tools tent and have their snacks stolen by seagulls. Participants set up wind sculptures near the dunes as models blow up their inflatable donuts by the edge of the boardwalk. Everyone is gearing up to win the promised scholarship money in each category.
I find myself in the middle of the relief section, piling sand to the side as my teammates, Christen and Alianne, retrieve seawater and work on the corners. Our neighbors to the bottom right begin by setting up a tent over their entire project. Directly in front of us, I hear more than one viewer ask if the participants’ design is a coffin, to which they reply, “No, no it’s not.”
It’s easy to get overwhelmed when many talented artists join the festival with brilliant designs and teams of four or five. They pull out their personal construction tools and stamp the ground like they’re building roads. Then again, others come with only themselves, a backpack and their hands. Some sip coffees while others chug Powerades offered by the staff. Despite working with only sand and sea water, the beach is colored with beach towels, tie dye shovels and sand buckets. We all wear our sand-colored shirts over our swimsuits that unite us into one group of creative individuals.
A few hours in and sculptures begin to form. The remix of “Papaoutai” by Stromae changes to the remix of “Chihiro” by Billie Eilish. The sun continues to bake my teammates and me as we start smoothing out our giant octopus design. Tentacles curl on the border of our square as I create the frame our creature emerges from. Christen sprays the design with water every few minutes to keep it all from falling apart, her tools consisting of a bright yellow sieve and a mug of seawater. Our tent neighbors are deep in the sand, forming Art the Bee’s head. The coffin turns into a Monster Energy.
Viewers multiply and fill the small walkways between each design. They crowd together and try to guess what the final piece will turn out to be. They ask questions about how we came up with the idea and what else will be added, then wish us luck as they move on to the next participant. News crews zoom in and out with cameras as large as their heads. A mom stops by us as her baby points to our octopus with a giddy laugh.
When our team’s design is finally done, we celebrate with a three-way high five that starts with cheers and ends with yelps as a cloud of sand hits our faces. Working up until the start of the 2 p.m. judging time, we agree that we gave it our all and accomplished something great. It was hard work filled with sore knees and sunburn, but worth it in the end regardless of whether we win or not.
When the competition comes to an end and the winners are announced at the boardwalk tent, all the color begins to disappear. The majority of us didn’t win and it’s time to destroy all the hard work that we bent over backward for. The product of four hours is destroyed in under five minutes. All for the turtles, we agree collectively as participants, and return to normal SCAD students with matching sandy t-shirts, all united in our dedication to the craft.
But that doesn’t mean we won’t be back next year to compete again.
