OxfordPress.com

A middle-aged Scotsman, with a graying beard and an inviting manner, Goldsworthy is one of nature's alchemists. He turns sticks, stones, ice, leaves, bark, sheep's wool, wildflowers and just about anything else natural that catches his eye into intoxicating works of art. A daisy-chain of leaves snakes down a river. A hypnotic ice sculpture, unlike anything you've ever seen at a wedding reception, is silhouetted against a rocky shore.

Goldsworthy is also something of a specialist in the ephemeral. Many of his structures are built to be destroyed. The ice sculpture awaits the sun. A giant pine cone of rocks is swallowed by the tide, only to reappear, subtly altered, as the sea ebbs. As Goldsworthy says, "The thing that brings a work to life will cause its death."

The artist can sound a little granola-brained, but his works are so singular and compelling, it really doesn't matter. Besides, he reveals himself to be as human as the rest of us when a carefully constructed pile of stones collapses -- for the fourth time -- like a mass of pick up sticks.

The artistry of Thomas Riedelsheimer's film perfectly compliments Goldsworthy's art. His camera gives a dimension to the work that the artist's popular coffee-table books can't. If one of film's obligations is to show us things we've never seen before, "Rivers and Tides" is more than up to the task.