This post comes from the Artists and Climate Change Blog

“One of the greatest legacies of the 20th century is not just population explosion or better living standards, but vastly raised carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere. A new flag attempts to give this invisible gas, this international risk, an image, a way to represent itself. I like to think of it as a flag for a new kind of world order.” —John Gerrard, Artist

A hidden treasure, like many great treasures, is to be found on an unassuming, charming, and quiet square in Vienna’s 6th district. Peeking through the large windows on Loquaiplatz might reveal a beautiful minimalist studio where a flat screen shows a frog floating through space or a digital simulation of a flag of never-ending smoke – a haunting image that was presented earlier this year as a public art project in London, but developed here in the production space of media artist John Gerrard. While (still) hidden in Vienna, Gerrard’s work found international acclaim, securing the artist’s position as pioneer of new computer technologies and bringing urgent issues about nature, consumer culture, and power systems to art audiences. The flag of perpetual smoke depicts a dystopian and barren landscape – a simulation of the real site of the world’s first major oil find in Spindletop, Texas in 1901. Gerrard reimagines it as an unrelenting menace. It was presented in early 2017 as a multi-disciplinary public art intervention – online (YouTube), on TV (Channel Four) and at the heart of the European art establishment (Somerset House, London).

Gerrard is part of an international group of artists using their creativity to address the need for new structures in society. It has become clear that climate change is, at least in large part, a cultural problem – a direct consequence of our lifestyle and consumer behavior. But if we want to influence human behavior, we have to go beyond communicating the science of climate change, and this is exactly where the work of artists like Gerrard comes into play. Creative approaches to climate change speak to people on an engaging, emotional, human, and accessible level. Art and culture can be effective tools with which to advance new ideas, explore alternatives, and influence social norms.

To understand the framework of artists, curators, architects, designers, policymakers, and other arts professionals in Austria who engage with these issues, we established the Kunst Haus Wien’s inaugural Curator-in-Residence program. In early 2017, we conducted close to 50 interviews with key protagonists in Vienna, Graz, and Salzburg, and ran a weekly reading group with co-hosts and members of the public. Our research confirmed that the City of Vienna is acutely aware of, and making efforts to, engage with the international discourse on climate change. The Viennese art world, however, is only slowly waking up to the problem’s relevance and immediacy. Though we learned about many individual and institutional initiatives, we found there was limited knowledge exchange, interdisciplinary collaboration, and organizational partnership on the subject.

Interdisciplinary collaboration is known to spark innovation, but a big obstacle to art/science collaborations is language. The professional language of both the artist and the scientist has become so specialized that it requires an open mind and much patience on both sides to understand each other. One of our interviewees, Markus Schmidt, co-founder and director of Biofaction, a research and science communication company based in Vienna, put it this way:

“Artists and scientists speak in different languages. I work with artists because I’m interested in new perspectives that go beyond scientific insight. Science is a great tool to better understand the world, but the scientific method can also be limiting. Artists bring in different arguments, additional layers of meaning and help us to explore complimentary futures.”

Biofaction. Prototype Nature exhibition in Essen.

Another point that struck us was how people – even in the cultural and academic sectors – find it hard to relate to something that is not visible or immediately obvious in their own lives. As long as flooding and scarcity of resources (energy, food, water) are not part of the daily struggle, climate change remains an “alternative reality.” While this attitude is not unique to Austria, it is accentuated by the country’s protected and regulated position: it is land-locked, benefits from a stable social welfare system and access to alternative sources of energy, and still enjoys localized agricultural practices. The challenge of how to relate to latent natural forces led to our concept for The Big Invisible, an exhibition and public program we are presenting at the Kunst Haus Wien, October 19, 2017 – January 14, 2018.

The Big Invisible addresses five invisible forces that interact with us in subtle but powerful ways, and influence our potential for life and longevity on the planet. Though this may sound like a superhero story, the reality is less fantastical and cli-fi-esque: the exhibition confronts real-life issues such as viruses, air pollution, heat, nuclear radiation and an imaginary oil spill. The main question that is posed is: How do we relate to nature’s drastic changes if we cannot see, feel or hear the causes and directly experience the effects? The selected artworks offer a renewed understanding of the wonders of the natural world by using publicly accessible data and tools so that we may see, hear, touch and smell our environment in ways that go beyond what initially meets the eye. This sense of heightened awareness is crucial in times of environmental degradation, with artists playing an important role in making the issues visible.

Markus Hoffmann. Bikini Atoll Containment 2015.

Artists probe and contextualize the status of current and potential environmental situations in different parts of the world, bringing new questions and knowledge into the conversation and opening up the imagination by engaging with the realm of the invisible. From the effects of radiation on coconuts on the Bikini Atoll to the Pepino Mosaic Virus on European tomatoes, the exhibition provides new insights into the invisible world around us, bridging art and citizen science.

(Top image: John Gerrard, Western Flag (Spindletop, Texas) 2017. Installation view, Somerset House, London. Photo: Damian Griffiths. Image courtesy the artist and Thomas Dane Gallery, London and Simon Preston Gallery, New York.)

About Artists and Climate Change:

Artists and Climate Change is a blog that tracks artistic responses from all disciplines to the problem of climate change. It is both a study about what is being done, and a resource for anyone interested in the subject. Art has the power to reframe the conversation about our environmental crisis so it is inclusive, constructive, and conducive to action. Art can, and should, shape our values and behavior so we are better equipped to face the formidable challenge in front of us.

Go to the Artists and Climate Change Blog

This post comes from the Artists and Climate Change Blog

Climate Change Theatre Action 2017 is officially LAUNCHED! As of last Sunday, October 1st, communities and individuals around the world have started hosting events and conversations on climate, using this year’s curated collection of 50 short plays. The energy from these events is contagious – even though we can’t be at all 250 events, each one is sending a pulse into the world to persist in the face of corruption and apathy. That is inspiring.

On Sunday, we – Chantal Bilodeau and I – presented The New York Launch at The Artist Co-op, to kick-off this year’s global action and to celebrate local artists working on climate. The evening was full of quirky performances, and mingling between new faces and old friends. It was fascinating to see people of varying ages, from all over the city, come together, to support climate, performance, and community – and to raise funds for hurricane relief efforts in Houston. It definitely set the tone for what will be an energizing seven weeks!

As part of the Launch, I directed a few CCTA plays, and invited local artists to share some of their work on climate. We had a variety of performance genres, from artists of various backgrounds. It was serendipitous to see and hear how, through the performances, there was something for each and every audience member to connect to.

Brackendale by Elaine Ávila, with Megan Oots & Atiya Taylor. Credit: Yadin Photography.

The evening started off with comedy from Willie Zabar, who brought his character Heimi Wilhelm, the famous German musician and thinker. Using prompts from the audience, Heimi explained his positions on topics of nature using words and music. It was a fun, light, interactive way to start the evening, and directly engage everyone in the room. Upstream Artists’ Collective also engaged audiences directly, breaking down our broken socio-political systems, by inviting an audience member to literally break a chair. After a collective brainstorm on how to best break the wooden chair, a gray-haired woman in the front row jumped up to make it happen: she smashed that IKEA chair until it was in building-block form. It was goofy and experimental, with immediate implications: the audience member sitting in the wooden chair lost her seat, the chair was rendered un-sit-able, the audience rallied behind the woman pulling apart the chair.

Upstream Artists’ Collective. Credit: Yadin Photography.

I’ve felt this kind of energy before, the energy of individuals rallying together, overtly or subconsciously, for a singular purpose. It was similar to the energy I’ve felt during marches and while watching some of my favorite shows. This energy continued throughout the night, as The Anthropologists and Lynn Neuman of Artichoke Dance Company performed. The Anthropologists presented an excerpt from their upcoming This Sinking Island, which features text, movement, and music performed by a small ensemble. With their blue fabrics and plastics, the ensemble transported us to a place surrounded by water. Lynn also transported us, juxtaposing rustling plastic bags and recorded instrumentals by Mike Sayre. Her piece Precipice evoked at once the experience of plastics, and of organisms and places implicated in the consumption of plastics. So, even though our evening took place in one room, the performances transported us, collectively, to alternate times and places.

Lynn Neuman in Precipice. Credit: Yadin Photography.

Threaded through the entire evening were the CCTA plays: Brackendale by Elaine Ávila, Rube Goldberg Device for the Generation of Hope by Jordan Hall, Single Use by Marcia Johnson, Kleenex by David Paquet, and Magical Vagina by Catherine Léger. What I found in delving into these short plays is depth. It is amazing how many layers can be packed into a five-minute play or monologue. My collaborators and I delighted in the playwrights’ varying perspectives on human-induced climate change. In duologues like Brackendale, Rube Goldberg…, and Magical Vagina, we found examples of dichotomous ways of dealing with climate realities: unshakeable hope, or dire pessimism. These two approaches manifest through the varying circumstances of each play, leaving room for audiences to place themselves on the spectrum: with enough pessimism to feel the urgency, and enough hope to do something about it.

Through Rube Goldberg… in particular, audiences were required to do something. Nearing the end of the Launch, two performers, Atiya Taylor and Megan Oots, set up a Rube Goldberg Device with the audience, passing out instructions on slips of paper. Each instruction was contingent on something happening before, prompted by a different instruction given to another audience member. Ultimately, the whole sequence should lead to a dance party. Atiya, Megan, and I had rehearsed the play, and I could see and feel how the Rube Goldberg Device could work, but the circumstances of the evening led the Device down an unexpected path. Some audiences were so eager to follow their instruction that they couldn’t wait until the required prompt. Many audience members were confused, but by the time the dancing started, they were good sports and joined in. From this experiment, I learned how to set up circumstances as clearly and simply as possible to then allow for the audience to build the Device, to contribute to chaos. Nonetheless, it was wonderful to see the audience shamelessly participate in breaking the traditions of what a play is or should be.

Rube Goldberg Device for the Generation of Hope by Jordan Hall. Credit: Yadin Photography.

The evening culminated in a Skype call to Toronto, who was starting their Launch event as ours was winding down. We introduced the New York and Toronto playwrights present at each event, and virtually passed on the baton. It was brief, but effectively broke the New York bubble, and placed our Launch more tangibly within the context of something way larger. Before we parted, Ryan Little Eagle Pierce, who performed “Eagle Warrior,” a piece of poetry set to movement describing one American’s transition into his Lenape roots, brought a vital context to our event, acknowledging the traditional caretakers of the land that Manhattan is now on, the Lenape people. Ryan helped us to connect our care for our environment to our care for one another, effectively tapping into everyone’s compassion for the new and old friends we all shared the evening with.

“Eagle Warrior,” written and performed by Ryan Little Eagle Pierce. Credit: Yadin Photography.

Take Action
It’s not too late to join CCTA. Check out our Call for Collaborators and host a gathering in your own community, NOW through November 18!
New York City: It’s the fifth anniversary of Hurricane Sandy. March to remember, rise, and resist at the Climate March on October 28.

More CCTA!
I was recently on the Let’s Talk About the Weather podcast, with Ashley Mazanec of EcoArts Foundation. Listen here, for more about CCTA!  Visit climatechangetheatreaction.com for all the upcoming events this season, and to learn how to host your own.

(Top image: The Anthropologists. Credit: Yadin Photography.)

About Artists and Climate Change:

Artists and Climate Change is a blog that tracks artistic responses from all disciplines to the problem of climate change. It is both a study about what is being done, and a resource for anyone interested in the subject. Art has the power to reframe the conversation about our environmental crisis so it is inclusive, constructive, and conducive to action. Art can, and should, shape our values and behavior so we are better equipped to face the formidable challenge in front of us.

Go to the Artists and Climate Change Blog

This post comes from the Artists and Climate Change Blog

Elise Wagner is a painter, printmaker, and teacher based in Portland, Oregon. Her initial captivation with the geology and majestic beauty of the Pacific Northwest lead her to obtain a Bachelor of Science Degree at Portland State University. She studied painting, sculpture, art history, printmaking, geology, physics and environmental biology, which wove into what would become the conceptual fabric of her work. Making the Pacific Northwest her home base has continually nurtured her lifelong creative pursuits.

Elise agreed to answer a few questions for Artists & Climate Change about her newest body of work, focused on receding glaciers. Climate Charts, her solo exhibit, will be on display at the Butters Gallery, Ltd. in Portland, Oregon through October.

The artist in her studio. Photo by Rebekah Johnson Photography.

What was the inspiration for your Glacier series? 

About five years ago, I saw the documentary Chasing Ice featuring nature photographer James Balog. Through his Extreme Ice Survey (EIS) project, he and his team created a multiyear photographic chronicle of the planet’s rapidly melting glaciers. The time-lapse photographs that Balog’s cameras captured of the receding glaciers are riveting.

Soon after seeing the film, then seeing it again, and again, I set up Google alerts to receive updates of glacier images from NASA, the National Geologic Survey, and the International Space Station. Concepts develop in my work gradually at somewhat of a glacial pace. It took a few years of observing for this work to manifest. As my knowledge of glacier geology deepened, I became fascinated with glaciers’ beauty, colors, and formations, and by the stunning and rapid transformation of the glacial landscape.

My work has always addressed the duality between the human impulse for order and the indifference of nature. I am drawn to all kinds of subjects like physics, astronomy, meteorology, geology and geography, satellite technology, and climate science.

I have a passion for that incomprehensible gap that lies between art and science. This has always intrigued me and fed my imagination, and has resulted in me spending much of my creative pursuits on bringing the two together. Unlike science, art looks at the world through an aesthetic lens that encompasses the emotional, ethereal, and the sublime. Science, on the other hand, is rational, measured, and quantifiable, but it gives art a context. This merging of art and science helps us understand nature in a broader sense.

The last time that ice and glaciers were so present in the popular imagination was during the age of polar exploration, over a hundred years ago. Now that these elements are resurfacing, how do you think they are shaping our consciousness?

The recent devastation caused by hurricanes Harvey, Irma, and Maria are enough to make your head spin – how could their link to global warming NOT shape our consciousness? My family is in Houston, as is one of my galleries, Gremillion Fine Art. Luckily, they are all blessed and safe on higher ground. Add to that the enormous forest fires that occurred simultaneously in California and my home state of Oregon, where over 42,000 acres of our beloved Columbia River Gorge recently burned. Unseasonably hot summers leading to drought, combined with rising ocean temperatures, are to blame for such devastation and are the direct result of the glaciers melting in the Antarctic, Greenland, Alaska, and South America.

The Larsen C. Ice Shelf, on the southern tip of Antarctica, was until recently the largest ice shelf in existence. In 2002, the Larsen C. was found to have what was to become a two-mile long crack in its surface. In July of 2017, a metric trillion-ton iceberg the size of Delaware, the largest iceberg in history, broke off the ice shelf. The day after this shocking news broke, I was looking at my painting in progress and decided to draw the map of Delaware in my sketchbook. To my astonishment, the shape of Delaware had already subconsciously emerged in the surface of the painting. How’s that for shaping ones consciousness?

There is a map-like quality to your work in general. Is that intentional?

Short answer, yes. Working in the abstract realm, I have always approached painting as if I am laying down a map to an unknown or unseen territory. Abstraction in itself is about finding one’s way in an unknown territory. My work draws upon science, the celestial, and the sublime within a cartographic construct. My painting titles often refer to cartographic, scientific, or solar terms like “Celestial Legend,” “Atom Transits,” or “Solar Flare.”

I work in encaustic, an ancient painting medium that combines natural beeswax, resin, and pigment. It is the oldest known pigment binder, dating as far back as 23 B.C. With it, I have discovered ways to layer and manipulate the medium to create surfaces that match my subject matter and my visual intentions. More specifically, I developed a way to trap air in the wax and create surfaces that mimic geological terrain. My process is very methodical, allowing for spontaneity in both its direction and the alchemy of the materials. I mix specifically hued glazes and colors to achieve depth of surface, line, and transparency.

As the work developed, I studied the colors of glacial ice and began thinking about the duality in my materials. I recognized a paradox in what I was attempting to achieve. Subconsciously, I was using hot wax to create glacial ice terrains and formations. My reliance on alchemy and chance occurrences in my materials unites elements of hot and cold, and mimic the transformative impact of temperature on our planet. This first piece became the centerpiece for my show Climate Charts.

Glacier Stream 1. Photo by Rebekah Johnson Photography.

From this piece, I created graphite rubbings of its texture onto tracing paper. I then transferred those graphite rubbings onto a warm cobalt-turquoise encaustic surface to create a series of twelve 10 x 7.5 works. While attempting to walk my dog and not fall after a late 2016 snow and ice storm that crippled the city of Portland, I was stunned to see the resemblance between air trapped under the ice outside and my series of paintings. This reaffirmed for me how I am achieving reproducing the actual in nature through the various abstract approaches I take with creating art. From this series of small works, I was inspired to scale up five times and create three 55” x 42”s.

Glacier Charts 1-12, 10 x 7.5 inches each. Photo by Rebekah Johnson Photography.

What is the single most important thing artists can do to address the problem of climate change?

Understand that their impact lies not only in what they express, but in the materials they choose to express it with. For example, I am hyper aware of the fact that the wax I use is a limited resource produced by a rapidly dwindling bee population. Wax is impervious to moisture, thereby giving encaustic paints an eternal shelf life. Unlike oil paints, they don’t dry out, and require no solvents. I am also a printmaker and I exclusively use non-toxic soy and, maybe not coincidentally, honey-based inks.

Glacier Stream 2. Photo by Rebekah Johnson Photography.

What gives you hope?

These times of social, political, and environmental upheaval have forced me to re-examine my creative intentions. Now more than ever, I feel a growing need to express what is happening globally and shape it through my work. I am not a scientist, nor do I have the luxury of world travel or polar exploration to conceive of my work, but our technological age gives me access to information. The ability to continue learning through such means gives me hope – it is one of the more positive aspects of the global sphere. It also means we can form global communities and become psychically connected to each other.

Ultimately, my hope lies in humanity, in the power of community, and in rallying for what is right and true. We are all human beings, each of us with the same capacity to grow our consciousness, to take action, and to continue learning and breaking the barriers that divide us. We can only save our planet through unity, choice, willingness, understanding, love, and compassion.

(Top image: Detail from Glacier Chart 4.)

About Artists and Climate Change:

Artists and Climate Change is a blog that tracks artistic responses from all disciplines to the problem of climate change. It is both a study about what is being done, and a resource for anyone interested in the subject. Art has the power to reframe the conversation about our environmental crisis so it is inclusive, constructive, and conducive to action. Art can, and should, shape our values and behavior so we are better equipped to face the formidable challenge in front of us.

Go to the Artists and Climate Change Blog