To Artwash or not to Artwash…? The Highs and Lows of the Summer Climate Exhibitions
Every year we see more and more artists, viewers and institutions engaging with the climate crisis. This is particularly true this summer, with temperatures fluctuating and a slew of environment-related art events taking place around the city. Whilst these efforts are admirable and certainly a step in the right direction, they do raise one rather obvious but necessary question — are these endeavours pursued with artwashing or genuine change in mind?
In May, Gregor Sailer’s photography exhibition, The Polar Silk Road (until 24 November 2023), opened at the Natural History Museum. Sailer’s photographs explore the impact of humans on otherwise untouched environments and address the economic exploitation of the Arctic regions and the widespread environmental, economic and social consequences of that exploitation. A visually striking and noble effort to engage with these important environmental themes, but not one that is entirely new — note Hauser & Wirth Somerset’s 2020 exhibition of Don McCullin’s photographs as one of many examples.
The start of Southbank Centre’s climate-related summer programme – Planet Summer (until 23 September 2023) – was marked by the opening of their current exhibition Dear Earth: Art and Hope in a Time of Crisis. It promises to be a “pioneering group show of artistic responses to the climate emergency that explores themes of care, hope, interdependence, emotional and spiritual connection, and activism”. [1] To this end, the exhibition features several existing artworks mixed with brand-new commissions created specifically for the occasion by renowned artists, including Otobong Nkanga, Hito Steyerl, Cornelia Parker and Richard Mosse.
A standout is Himali Singh Soin’s two-channel video installation we are opposite like that (2018-2019). Displayed back-to-back, the two screens are displayed in a darkened room suspended over a pool of water, emphasising the feeling of disorientation created by the haunting imagery and soundscape that explores the imperial fear of a new ice age in Victorian England. With these references to a dystopian future created by history and our own current impacts on the environment, the work invites viewers to think beyond the installation and imagine a future in which humanity can coexist with the lands they inhabit.
Another impressive artwork is Richard Mosse’s video and photograph installation, Grid (Palimi-ú) (2023). In keeping with other works within his oeuvre, this piece uses scientific and military imaging cameras to create beautiful yet haunting images that explore the impact of oil extraction on indigenous communities in the Amazon rainforest. Here, Mosse shows the impact of human greed upon their environments through explicit images displaying the devastation of the Amazon rainforests as a victim of these actions.
The video features the voices of the Yanomami people living on the Brazilian-Venezuelan border and the impact of illegal gold mining on their land - a truly devastating ecological disaster. In doing so, Mosse visually expressed the extent of the damage humans have caused on distant environments and those that they harm in the process. Adding a human voice to a very real human problem only highlights the tragedy.
Ackroyd & Harvey’s living portraits also deserve mention. At first, the portraits of five London environmental activists appear nothing more than photographs depicting a past event on a canvas surface - a simple, clean, yet uninventive technical decision. But, looking more closely at the images themselves, it becomes clear that they are more materialistically imaginative than this, for each is, in fact, printed on glass.
Unfortunately, one of the most critical works related to one of the most significant subject matters within the exhibition felt lost amongst the noise of the surrounding installations and the eye-catching neon of the works in the first rooms. The unlucky artwork is a poignant installation created by Imani Jacqueline Brown, which connects the hidden wells and pipelines of the petrochemical industry in Louisiana and to North America’s history of colonialism, slavery and greed. Although located in its own room, it feels almost wedged between Singh Soin’s haunting video and Aluaiy Kaumakan’s bright textile sculpture.
Like any group show, there were more impactful and less impactful works. The Hayward Gallery centres the exhibition on Otobong Nkaganga’s suggestion that “caring is a form of resistance”. It claims to be a “call to action” through hope and inspiration. However, it would have been nice to see more pieces that conveyed the urgency of the climate crisis. Most people who visit the exhibition will likely leave without much further thought to the importance of the topics addressed in Dear Earth, which is a detriment to us all.
But, it was not just the works themselves or the curation that undersold the exhibition's mission to viewers. The educational aspect was also severely lacking.
For example, it would have been nice to have more information readily available about the sustainability goals of the Hayward Gallery and the impressive sustainable measures employed in the planning and installation of the works. This in itself is a huge aspect of the exhibition, and it is a shame that these efforts cannot be recognised properly without doing some real digging. Precisely how curators and artists met over Zoom instead of flying to see each other in person, the number of recycled materials employed in creating the artworks and the exhibition space more generally is an enormous step in the right direction to making museum blockbuster shows more ethical and sustainable. [2] Indeed, sustainable efforts were even employed through the marketing and commercials aspects of the exhibition. Notably, the catalogue was printed with vegetable dyes on recycled paper, and there was an enormous effort to remove the unnecessary packaging of the works and shop goods.
The most impressive of these initiatives was the great importance placed on reusing materials used in the creation of some of the works once they were disassembled following their stint in the exhibition. For example, Jenny Kendler’s Birds Watching III (2023) will be reassembled for its permanent display at the Zoological Society of London after the closure of the Hayward Gallery’s exhibition rather than being transported to a foreign warehouse or simply binned only to be remade for its next viewing occasion.
Outside the gallery walls, The Hayward Gallery has installed a “Pocket Forest” of 390 UK native trees as a permanent feature. Planet Summer will also include a series of talks on ecology, climate activism and the climate crisis. Natura Nostra Forest is a 130spm patch of 390 trees that will contribute an average sequestration rate of 3 kilos per square metre per annum. Carbon sequestration is capturing and storing atmospheric carbon dioxide to reduce the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere. This is a lovely idea, in theory. However, whether this will simply end up being a performative gesture or contribute to the area's biodiversity is something that can only be seen in years to come. The supposed low maintenance of the garden and the reintroduction of twenty-four native British species of plants can only be a positive.
Another exhibition this summer that draws attention to the climate crisis is Tomas Saraceno in Collaboration: Webs of Life at the Serpentine South Gallery in Hyde Park. Described as ‘a living, collaborative and multi-species exhibition that delves into how different life forms, technologies and\ energy systems are connected in the climate emergency,’ the show clearly has big ambitions. [3]
Viewers are encouraged to leave their phones at the entrance to fully immerse themselves in the ethereal, complex and beautiful works. Spiders themselves have built the web installation. Unfortunately, this means visitors become so enamoured by the complexity and beauty that nothing else in the installation can make the same impact, particularly the hugely informative and powerful film that follows the indigenous communities of Jujuy in Argentine and their fight against lithium mining and its destruction of the local land and water. Saraceno has converted the building to solar power and switched off the A/C, meaning that parts of the exhibition will be closed on cloudy days and days that are too hot. Great in theory, but given the uncertainty of London’s climate, which is only exacerbated in the summer with thirty-plus degree days interspersed with thick muggy cloudy days, it seems likely that the exhibition will be closed more than it is open. Consequently, this raises the question of how practical this move is for visitors to have the full experience of the exhibition. It is completely up for debate…
Despite these ‘technical weather errors’, the exhibition actually feels like a call to action, which is rare in the art world. Let us take a moment to mourn the Royal Academy’s failed attempt to do this at last year’s Summer Exhibition. In this new attempt, Saraceno gives vulnerable communities and indigenous voices a platform and questions people and governments in power; he fundamentally changes how the building runs. It feels inspiring and hopeful, like we can do more.
Looking outside London and the UK, we can see that the interest in art and exhibitions centred on the climate emergency is not unique.
The Helsinki Biennial (12 June 2023 - 17 September 2023) returns this summer for its second iteration to reflect on issues such as environmental damage and political conflict. Although this year’s theme is titled New Directions May Emerge, the biennial maintains its commitment to being responsible and sustainable in its exhibition-making and inclusivity. Following its inaugural edition in 2021, Helsinki Biennial published a comprehensive environmental impact study and has revised its environmental responsibility programme to improve the monitoring and assessment of its environmental impact. [4]
New York’s The Shed just recently ended their exhibition titled The Yanomami Struggle – Art and Activism in the Amazon, which showcased artists of the Yanomami (who, incidentally, are the focal point of Mosse’s video installation in Dear Earth), one of the largest Indigenous groups living in Amazonia today and their collaboration and friendship with artist and activist Claudia Andujar. [5] And later this year, in Tokyo’s Mori Art Museum, Our Ecology will showcase works by Agnes Denes, one of the artists included in Dead Earth, to explore the impact of humanity on Earth since the industrial revolution and ask: ‘Who are we, and to whom does earth’s environment belong?’ [6]
Recently several initiatives have been created and promoted by galleries, institutions and arts organisations to reduce their carbon footprint and be more sustainable. The Gallery Climate Coalition (GCC) is one such example; it is an international community organisation working to reduce the art industry’s environmental impact. [7] Last year, the GCC launched a new Active Membership to celebrate those galleries, institutions and arts organisations who regularly publish their carbon audits, establish and maintain a ‘Green Team’ and publish an environmental responsibility statement. [8] Active members include Frieze, Sotheby’s Institute of Art, London, Hauser & Wirth, and Camden Arts Centre, to name but a few.
Through this status, these organisations can show their active commitment to environmental responsibility and discourage any potential greenwashing by their members through publishing climate and sustainability reports, engaging in philanthropic endeavours, and hosting educational events.
Another initiative, which considers the GCC a partner that was recently launched, is PACT – Partners for Arts Climate Targets. PACT is an international coalition of art world organisations whose shared goal encourages the furthering of climate action through initiatives that “innovate, explore solutions, and build community while supported by and supporting a collective, aligned network.” [9] They define their four primary goals for successful collaboration to be the continuous reduction of greenhouse gas emissions, transitioning to a zero waste sector model, developing a unified vision and shared knowledge for climate action and advocating for a climate policy that centres intersectional environmentalism. [10]
Such collaborations and initiatives across museums, galleries, fairs and institutions show the art world’s desire to make positive changes towards a more sustainable and less ecologically destructive global model. This is not to mention the individual artists at the core of whose practices we find a focus on ecology and sustainability. Art can be a great way to encourage change. This is undeniable. However, to truly be successful in fighting the climate crisis, we must all work harder and more collaboratively to demand it.
Footnotes:
[1] The Polar Silk Road, Natural History Museum https://www.nhm.ac.uk/visit/exhibitions/the-polar-silk-road.html
[2]Updated Dear Earth Press Release, Southbank Centre https://bynder.southbankcentre.co.uk/m/7251989fff16a002/original/Updated_Dear_Earth_Press_Release_23.pdf?_ga=2.179946535.2081348470.1688389954-99436653.1688389953
[3]Tomas Saraceno in Collaboration: Web[s] of Life, The Serpentine Gallery, https://www.serpentinegalleries.org/whats-on/tomas-saraceno-webs-of-life-exhibition/
[4]Helsinki Biennial, ‘A comprehensive impact study of Helsinki Biennial has been published’ 10.03.2022 https://helsinkibiennaali.fi/en/story/a-comprehensive-impact-study-of-helsinki-biennial-has-been-published/
[5]The Shed, ‘The Yanomami Struggle’ https://theshed.org/program/262-the-yanomami-struggle
[6]Mori Art Museum, ‘Our Ecology’ https://www.mori.art.museum/en/exhibitions/eco/index.html
[7]Gallery Climate Coalition https://galleryclimatecoalition.org/
[8] Gallery Climate Coalition, Active Membership Overview https://galleryclimatecoalition.org/active-membership/overview/
[9]PACT https://www.visualartspact.org/
[10] PACT Press Release https://www.visualartspact.org/press-release
Stephanie Cherney
Agents of Change Co-Editor, MADE IN BED