Ames Morison
VINTNER

While living in New York City in the mid-nineties, Morison felt disillusioned enough with teaching in the South Bronx to pursue an idea he'd concocted with college buddy Christopher Medlock James. Morison, who learned sustainable-farming techniques during a Peace Corps stint in Guatemala, attended a winemaking program at the University of California. Then James, a successful money manager, provided the capital to establish the Medlock Ames winery. In 1998, they purchased a deserted 320-acre property in Sonoma County's Alexander Valley. It took three years to produce a quality crop, but in 2001 Medlock Ames bottled its first merlot, since adding cabernet sauvignon and chardonnay to its now certified-organic line. And they did it using purely sustainable methods: solar power, electric and biodiesel vehicles, and sheep for weed control. "It feels good to work with my hands and the soil," says Morison, 36, "and there's an intellectual satisfaction in seeing how the weather, the way the grapes are grown, and my daily decisions affect the final result."

ADVICE? "Taste as many different wines as you can, learn as much about farming as you can, and work at a winery during harvest."
—MEGAN GAMBINO

Gus Speth
ENVIRO CRUSADER

Dean of the Yale School of Forestry and Environmental Studies, Speth's been at the forefront of the green movement for nearly as long as it's been around. Through generational and political shifts, his voice has been a constant source of reason and measured optimism. He recently spoke with TIM SOHN about his work—and where we've been and where we're headed.

OUTSIDE: When you cofounded the Natural Resources Defense Council, in 1970, you were still in law school. Did you have in mind then that environmental advocacy would be this lifelong calling?
SPETH: I've worn this green hat in a lot of different roles. The NRDC is an advocacy group; then we built the World Resources Institute, the Washington think tank; then the Council on Environmental Quality under President Carter; and then the United Nations Development Program. And now here at Yale for eight years—I can't believe it.

There seems to be a difference of perspective between the old guard and the people working at the grassroots today.
This is one of the issues with the older, bigger environmental organizations—reconnecting with young people and groups who haven't really been inside the environmental tent. It's not that the young people aren't hungry to work at these national groups ...

What are the effects of the mainstream coverage of global warming?
I think it's the big issue. For your readers, there's not going to be an outdoors worth going to if we don't do something—and fast—about this problem. It's the biggest threat to conservation in history. Fortunately, it's kind of a clarion call; it's waking people up and, I think, revitalizing environmental concern.

ADVICE? Find something that excites you and has spiritual or ethical content.

For the full transcript of our interview and more, go to outsideonline.com/speth.

Olafur Eliasson
ENVIRONMENTAL ARTIST

Eliasson is something of an illusionist, forcing us to look more closely at the world by cleverly deconstructing both natural phenomena and how we relate to them. Born in Copenhagen to Icelandic parents in 1967, he was drawing from an early age and, after dabbling in breakdancing as a teenager, enrolled in the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts in 1989. He then gained notice at the 1994 Cologne art fair, where, at the invitation of a gallery, he created an artificial grotto. Among his subsequent creations were a reverse-flowing waterfall that cascaded up a series of basins and Double Sunset, in which a metal sphere was erected above the city's skyline to reflect a nearby stadium's lights. But he's best known for The Weather Project, a 2003–04 installation at London's Tate Modern that invited viewers to trade the city's gray afternoons for the glow of an artificial sun. And whether visitors were responding to a welcome antidote to seasonal affective disorder or the audacity of Eliasson's Apollo complex, the piece was a hit: Roughly two million people saw it. Now based in Berlin, he's had no shortage of work since, and he and his team of 30 collaborators—from craftsmen to art historians—choose the projects that suit them. Last year, proceeds from a window installation he designed for Louis Vuitton stores went to his charity, 121ethiopia.org, which focuses on community-based aid work in Ethiopia. Eliasson's upcoming plans may include a mysterious work involving New York City's waterways, so, given that he turned a Stockholm waterway green in 2000, New Yorkers should be on the lookout for any alterations to the Hudson's muddy palette.

ADVICE? "I think about people's perception and engagement. There is no work without the viewers or users."
—TIM SOHN