Moe Beitiks

Meghan Moe Beitiks researches, discusses, analyzes, critiques, questions and creates environmental art. She is the eco-arts columnist for inhabitat.com, a popular green design blog with over 100,000 unique daily visitors. She founded greenmuseum.blog, a place for the exploration of issues and themes in eco-art. She's a regular contributor to the Center for Sustainable Practice in the Arts' quarterly journal and blog. She was an Art Culture Nature fellow at the Earth Matters on Stage Symposium in 2009 and a Fulbright Scholar to Latvia in Theater in 2001/2.

Art in the Climate Change Village in Cancun | Inhabitat #COP16

A pop-top snake god? This alien creature was one of a number of interesting installations placed on show at this year’s COP16 Climate Change Village. Located between the UN Conference’s official venue and downtown Cancun, the bustling village hosted workshops, films, conferences and eye-catching art installations from all over the world. Never one to pass up the chance to take some art snaps, Inhabitat was on-site to document all of the excitement — jump ahead to see more of the fantastic creations!

Check it out here:  COP16: Art in the Climate Change Village in Cancun | Inhabitat – Green Design Will Save the World.

Trash the Tate: Tax Yourself for the Cleanup.

I got invited to a facebook event the other day. It was a protest. It instructed attendees to wear black and march up San Francisco’s Market Street in a statement against the ongoing BP oil spill. And for the first time in my adult life, I found myself wondering “Why protest?” Nothing makes a statement quite like hundreds of thousands of crude oil flooding the gulf. No amount of marching equals the dramatic impact of the loss of marine life and fisheries. The spill is not suffering from a lack of media coverage: it’s a constant point of discussion on blogs, television news broadcasts, The Daily Show. In the same way that the Exxon corporation has become synonymous with the Exxon Valdez spill, so this spill will haunt the reputation of BP, and justifiably so. Why march? Why not, say, collect natural fibers for booms and send them to the gulf, to aid in the cleanup effort?

I had a similar reaction to Rising Tide’s recent “Liberate Tate” action. The organization sent a letter to Tate Modern Museum officials, stating:

By placing the words BP and Art together, the destructive and obsolete nature of the fossil fuel industry is masked, and crimes against the future are given a slick and stainless sheen.

It goes on to threaten:

Beginning during your 10th anniversary party and continuing until you drop the sponsorship deal, we will be commissioning a series of art interventions in Tate buildings across the country. Already commissioned are Art Action collective, with a birthday surprise at this weekend’s No Soul For Sale event, and The Invisible Committee, who will infiltrate every corner of Tate across the country in the coming months.

That No Soul for Sale surprise involved hanging balloons of oil in several Tate galleries and littering them with dead birds, forcing portions of the exhibition to close. The blogs Liberal Conspiracy, Art Threat and Indymedia UK touted the action as powerful and appropriate. In the meantime, museum workers were attempting a cleanup of their own artful oil spill.

PLATFORM London argues:

A decade ago tobacco companies were seen as respectable partners for public institutions to gain support from – the current BP Portrait Award at the National Portrait Gallery was previously sponsored by British American Tobacco. Now it is socially unacceptable for tobacco to play this public role, and it is our hope that oil & gas will soon be seen in the same light.

It’s undeniable that many companies see arts sponsorship as helpful rebranding following ecological or administrative catastrophes. My question is: if the Tate were to drop BP sponsorship, ending a 20-some-year relationship, what would prevent another, differently socially acceptable, differently bad, corporation from taking its place? The Tate has not disclosed the specific amount it receives from BP, and its account reports available for download do not specify BP’s contributions, but the museum does acknowledge that fully 60 percent of its funding comes from corporate sponsorships.

The Liberate Tate action is the brainchild of John Jordan, a former co-director of PLATFORM and the co-founder of the Laboratory of Insurrectionary Imagination (Labofii). It’s his feeling that arts funding should come from “taxes not corporations,” despite the fact that the British government is reducing arts subsidies. While “Liberate Tate” has no alternative-funding actions planned, Jordan cites’ the Tate’s budgetary silence: “Even if we did find other funders who could take their place, we would never know how much were talking!” In the meantime, “Liberate Tate” will continue to pummel the museum with insurrectionary actions.

I live in California: my taxes don’t fund the Tate. I can similarly not regard the Tate as my neighbor. But I am an employee of a San Francisco museum, and as such I can’t help but feel a bit of sympathy for the Tate, a bit of shock. Seriously? We’re going to punish art institutions for the crimes of its funders? And simultaneously: seriously? BP is just now starting to use natural fiber booms? Why shouldn’t corporations fund initiatives that seek to reconcile their most grievous errors, like Tate’s Rising to the Climate Challenge? Or are the taxpayers to shoulder the burden of cultural advancement, as they will shoulder the burden of the oil spill’s ecological cleanup?

To be fair, Jordan took the issue up with Tate officials directly before beginning the “Liberate Tate” campaign, engaging with director Nicolas Serota via a forum led by the Guardian, and emailing director Penelope Curtis,

Does what takes place outside the citadel that is Tate not feature in the decision-making of the Ethics Committee? If not, is that Committee held back from doing what is right by legal restrictions forcing it to act only in the interests of Tate itself? If so, how can we help change that situation?

This in response to Curtis’ statement that

Without BP’s support Tate would be less able to show the collection in a changing and stimulating way. Given that the majority of Tate’ s funding is self generated, it is necessary for the gallery to work across a wide range of corporate organisations and the sponsorship policy is regularly reviewed by the Trustees. The points you raise are important ones.

Jordan is well versed in disobedience against art institutions: the Nikolaj Copenhagen Contemporary Art Center dropped a workshop led by the Labofii when it became clear the the resulting “tools of civil disobedience” were to be used in COP15 actions. The Art Center feared a clash with the City of Copenhagen, a funder of the museum. Similarly, participants in Labofii’s “Art and Activism” workshop at the Tate Museum learned largely about actions against Tate and its funders, specifically because the Tate stated, in workshop preparations, that it could not host any such actions. The resulting insurrection hung a large “Art Not Oil” sign under the Tate’s “Free Entry” welcome.

In an age where environmental artists are using their skills to solve problems both cultural and ecological, are protest and disobedience really the most useful tools in the box? Or are they just the most dramatic? If there are artists working in soil health, reforestation, and urban gardening, can we not also have administrative artists? Where are the massive bureaucratic art “actions”? And, finally: who would be willing to donate 10 pounds to the Tate for every 5 pounds of BP funding dropped from its budget?

The Rising Tide Conference Floats Many Boats

Rising Tide Conference

Last weekend, I was at the Rising Tide Conference: Art and Ecological Aesthetics, hosted by the California College of the Arts and Stanford University and was on a panel talking about the importance of art in any vision of human sustainability. I emphasized the notion that if we’re going to make art that is supposedly also “for the Earth” that we better think about what the Earth might actually need, otherwise it’s just green paint or wishful thinking. It might be helpful to consider art for human and non-human needs from beginning to end (materials, making and where it goes after we’re done with it, and after that). What would the worms and watersheds actually notice and appreciate? They had a very diverse group of speakers and some fun architectural design ideas floating around. Met some great artists in person (finally) who I’ve been wanting to connect with: Linda Gass and Ian Garrett of The Center for Sustainable Practice in the Arts, to name just a few. It’s good to interconnect and jabber at these things but we need more biologists, land managers, business people and public policy experts at these conferences. All of you in those fields, please consider inviting eco-artists and their ilk to your next conference and vice versa. We need to be building ever-larger arks people. NOAA indeed…

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A Report from SFEAP

For those of you who haven’t been following the South Florida Environmental Art Project (a.k.a. SFEAP- with founder Mary Jo Aagerstoun, above), I want you to know that they are doing good things out there. They hosted a Symposium recently in Stuart, FL, and invited a few artists (Xavier Cortada, Betsy Damon and Michael Singer) who either live in or have worked in South Florida to speak about their work. I had the honor to give the keynote address and got to learn a bit about some of the issues facing that region and explore ways of encouraging the creation of new community-engaged eco-art. The key thing for me is their emphasis on a strategy to build up a movement, connect people and groups and train artists, as a useful model for other places around the world seeking to do the same. An organization worth following and supporting

Here’s me (and a few other interviews) from the reception at the end of the day (I’d like to thank the Academy and particularly thank my hairdresser…).

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How to Save the World: Environmental Health Clinic

There’s a fun exhibit that just closed in the Netherlands called How to Save the World in 10 Days. Rather than instantly transforming our planet to a heavenly glowing utopia, the festival instead presented an overview of worldwide cultural and artistic efforts to defend the planet from impending doom.

The artworks ranged from bikes made of car parts to emergency shelters, from reverse graffiti to car condoms. That last one involved actually sliding a condom over a car tailpipe, then watching it balloon up and sputter away. Worked practically for a minute, then served mostly as comic relief.

A performance that seemed to encapsulate the essence of the ish was the performance “Environmental Health Clinic.” The artist set up a booth in the center of a busy intersection and encouraged visitors to sit and unload their environmental concerns. She then would offer guidance, reassurance, and action tips. Environmentalism as a primary means for assuaging fears. How to Save the World was up at Vooiruit in Gent. Thanks to we make money not art.

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Jon Stewart and the Art of Responsibility

 

This will not be the first place you’ve heard of Jon Stewart’s interview with Jim Cramer, of Mad Money, on the Daily Show. This may be, in fact, one of the last places you’d expect to see it mentioned. This is a blog about environmental art. The Daily Show is a mainstream political comedy show. The interview was largely about finance, investment, and the economic crisis (which are not separate from natural resources, blah diddy you know the drill . . . )

But as comedian, Stewart provided an invaluable service. He called Cramer out. He urged Cramer and his network to use their visibility and connections for the public good, and not in service to investors, corporate interests, or mere ratings. He chided Cramer for misusing his powerful influence.

And that’s the essence of its relevance. At greenmuseum.org we’re constantly seeing artists who are using their craft as a tool for the public good, whether with education, aesthetic power, or literal utilitarianism. They’re doing it with the planet in mind, defending rivers, forests, communities, connections. Jon Stewart is defending the very nature of work, the transparency of media, and his parents’ retirement fund.

To all of those who voted to cut NEA funding: I defy you to look at the body of work on greenmuseum.org and not understand the public service that artists provide. Tell me that Jon Stewart lecturing Cramer like our nation’s Cultural Daddy isn’t achingly important. Come to grips with the incredible responsibility that comes with the work of culture. And I say: boo-yeah. Now let’s get some work done.

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Mandalas

The phrase “Earth Peace Mandala” sounds awfully alterna-hippie. Brings to mind sage, and barefoot dreadlocked dancing, and the sounds of, say, Phish, or the Dead. Which sometimes is great for the worms, and sometimes is great for jokes.

Artist Veronica Ramirez created Earth Peace Mandalas along the route of the Sustainable Living Roadshow. She does indeed bless the circle first with sage, but she does not dance around barefoot, and she’s not necessarily a Phish fan. What she does create is a gathering space, a place for people to connect with something slow and beautiful, and she does it with foliage and flower cuttings she finds in each city.

There’s much about a big ol’ flower soil mandala that’s not designed for transport: at every city a series of about 12 boxes, tubs and bags were unloaded: pinecones, pebbles, corn and a heart-shaped rock make up the basic elements of each mandala. In contrast, most other gear can be characterized bu the EZ-up: designed to be lightweight, transportable, quick to set up and break down. When asked about her gear, Veronica simply says, “It’s a process.”

Which is the essence of mandala-making: the process. Traditional Buddhist mandalas are created with colored sand, following intricate lined patterns marked out on a level surface. The act of manipulating tiny grains of sand into endless and repeating forms is a kind of mediation in and of itself.The lines in such mandalas depict the four directions, significant gods, portions of legends, and symbolic colors.

Ramirez just uses sticks and petals. As she works, folks stop by, tuning out the music and surrounding carnival to help her pluck petals, strip branches, sift grains and spread them into a circular devotion of the planet. It gives a moment to pause and reflect, and to wonder for a moment at natural processes.

 

 

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Transmediale 09: Survival is Tasty.

candy!
Carbon candy! So declared a certain workshop at the recent Transmediale 09:

“Driven by the often-absurd nature of politics and the collective creativity often generated from equally absurd artistic mediums, the workshop will rally around the task of hacking Cotton Candy machines.”

Appropriately titled Climate Hack, it was a project of Pixelache, Kitchen Budapest, and Tinker.it, and what they came up with was the DIY version of the diagram above: spun sugar installations designed for a sweet reflection on climate change. Far outside the usual dogma, for sure.

Transmediale was filled with contemplations of climate change this year, reports we make money not art. In addition to the Post Global Warming Survival Kit, the exhibit included specialità di silicio, a performance in which Swiss artist Urs Dubacher melted tools and computer parts into edible-looking meals, and a camp consisting of shelters made with recyled materials. The entire exhibition entitled Survival and Utopia, Visions of Balance in Transformation, ran for the month of February in Berlin.

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