The artist and writer Robert Smithson, famous for his austere and monumental “Spiral Jetty” unfurling in Utah’s Great Salt Lake, died at 35 in a plane crash in 1973. Teresita Fernández was born in Miami in 1968. By the time she was in art school, Smithson was well installed in the canon as a theorist of minimalism and a pioneer of the large outdoor sculptures that he termed “earthworks.”

Now, Smithson and Fernández, a 2005 MacArthur fellow known for sculptural clouds of fragmentary materials like glass and graphite, share equal billing at Site Santa Fe in a survey of their often materially varied work. More than 30 pieces by Fernández, representing 30 years, are juxtaposed with roughly the same number of Smithson works, made in the last decade of his life. The artists share long engagements with deep time, geology, civilization — and, above all, landscape, defined as culture overlaid on land.

Their perspectives on these grand themes are sympathetic. Their tones often clash: his mercurial and brainy, hers formal and meditative. But the show, curated by Fernández and Lisa Le Feuvre, the executive director of the Holt/Smithson Foundation, isn’t a refutation. It’s a careful response to the patriarchal legacy of landscape art, which Smithson both embodied and critiqued.

At least one Fernández piece takes up Smithson’s legacy explicitly. Her “Nocturnal” series of splattered graphite reliefs offer a monochrome on the tropes of Hudson School-type American landscape painting, all gorges and waterfalls and palpable light. One example is titled after Smithson’s so-called pour works — cascades of glue and asphalt dumped down hillsides like chemical Niagaras, which were his caustic riff on the same tropes.

Smithson supplemented his artworks with arcane essays on ruination and entropy. Fernández seems invested in elemental elegance‚ letting materials like charcoal, graphite, glass and silver speak for themselves.