Making the effort is quite a pleasure in itself.

The gallery closed its doors in 1971. I could no longer psychologically handle the needs of 12 artists. I cared about all of them, and what was happening with their careers. I'm just not a person who can do that indefinitely. And tax-wise I was concerned because they gallery wasn't making money; it was losing money.

People tend to view land art as something that happened at a certain historical moment - like minimal art, which I was also very much involved with. But it still goes on. It's very much alive.

I myself had lived in the San Fernando Valley many years ago, when it was a much wilder place, and we used to go walking in the wild areas. So that early experience had a lot of similarities for me to the places that Double Negative was being done.

I think the four land artists I showed all worked within a few years of each other. And they were standard bearers, I suppose, for land art. They each did very separate things. Apparently, later in California, a lot of artists started working in that medium and there was something of a rush of earthworks. But I wasn't involved with that.

People should go to the works and experience them. Because just having an idea or picture in mind is absolutely not the experience that's necessary. Even just landing in Albuquerque or Salt Lake City or Las Vegas was immediately part of the experience. And then you'd get in a car from the airport and take these very long trips - in Michael Heizer's case, it was three hours by car to get to his work. And then there's walking around and into the piece and seeing it from different angles. The kinetic experience of being a part of it physically was very important for me.

Had opened a gallery I already had strong connections with New York, because I was taking work on consignment from New York dealers. So I already knew a great many of the dealers and the artists here. It wasn't cold for me.