WHO was James Acord? The artist, who took his own life in January, is perhaps most easily defined as the only person in the US to hold an individual licence for handling radioactive material. A sculptor who trained in nuclear physics so that he could make art with radioactive material, he famously had that licence number tattooed on the back of his neck. His choice of medium was deliberate: Acord’s mission was to change the nuclear industry.
When visited him in 1995, two years after he had been granted the licence, he spoke of building a monument that would entrap radioactivity from waste dumped at the Hanford nuclear site in Washington state. He imagined uranium rods encased in carved granite rising out of a sunken sculpture, which contained the leaking material. Acord hoped it would warn future generations of the hazardous matter lurking beneath. He intended the monument to be the first of many that dealt with nuclear waste while also acknowledging its dangerousness and longevity. It was never made.
This, in some ways, is a parable of James Acord’s life. His is a tale of constant upward struggle that yielded few victories and many unrealised plans. In his work, concept was always more important than execution.
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The idea that drove him was challenging what he called the “closed club” of nuclear science. Acord was in favour of nuclear energy, and saw changing one element into another as the realisation of “mankind’s most innate desire”: alchemical transmutation. But he was wary of the nuclear industry’s secrecy. Acord saw art as the way to wrest power from the hands of nuclear scientists. His aim was “to increase understanding and openness and transparency about nuclear issues”.
“Acord’s aim was to increase understanding, openness and transparency about nuclear issues”
Acord also liked the idea of using transmutation to neutralise radioactive waste. For years he fought to access the reactors at Hanford and Imperial College London to try transforming radioactive technetium-99 into the innocuous metal ruthenium. He was denied at each turn by authorities who thought his justification frivolous.
Eventually, Acord quit fighting the establishment. Determined to realise a sculpture that embodied the concept of transmutation, he resorted to more accessible means. He began by extracting the radioactive metal americium-241 from smoke detectors. By combining this with emeralds, a source of beryllium, he generated fast neutrons, which he said he slowed down using beeswax. He then began a breeder reaction in uranium-238 – extracted from the enamel of bright orange 1930s crockery known as Fiestaware – to yield plutonium-239. Last year, Acord announced that he had the plutonium and was preparing a sculpture to contain it.
That sculpture would have been concept heavy and plutonium light. According to Mark Ramsey, radiation protection adviser at Imperial when Acord was an artist in residence in 1997, “although Acord’s system had all the component parts, the amount of neutrons produced by that method would be impractical”.
That Acord resorted to at-home means for this final act of defiance is testament to his failure to integrate into the nuclear scientific community, but his efforts radiate among fellow artists. At a recent memorial for Acord, artist Carey Young said that his “life and work should give hope to all artists who aim to inhabit inhospitable institutions and to change them for the better”. He was a sculptor with few sculptures, but Acord’s life itself was performance art.