Despite Kermit’s maxim that “it’s not easy being green” it seems design wants to go that way these days.
Buildings, landscapes, vehicles and all manner of products are finding new ways to be made more sustainably, and correspondingly, ways of measuring greenness have arisen; ‘green star’ for buildings, ‘green tag’ for products.
But unlike designs with a defined purpose, how to assess the green credentials for works of art?
Whilst the initial reaction might stress sustainable materials (no more lead paint on linen, or sculpture in rainforest timbers thanks), the question gets far more difficult, and interesting, when today’s art is of a more ephemeral nature: performances, events, festivals, concerts, and so on. How do we sort the good from the bad in the green-wash-up?
A good place to start is with artists who had a strong interest in environmental ideas. Parallel to the political movements with a green focus in the 1960s, there were artists who intended to raise consciousness, issue alerts or challenge traditional approaches to the environment.
Robert Smithson’s New York show ‘Earthworks’ in 1968, and his highly influential ‘Spiral Jetty’ of 1970, are regarded as markers of the beginning of ‘Land Art’, where artists rejected traditional methods, particularly in sculpture, in favour of works that had a greater connection to nature. They were also less ‘commodified’ as saleable products; photographs in a gallery represented works in remote locations (the southwest desert remains a favourite place for US artists).
This approach is well known through the work of Andy Goldsworthy, whose book titles of ‘Wood’, ‘Stone’, ‘Leaves’, and so forth indicate his interests and materials used; and more recently through the sky viewing ‘oculi’ sculptures of James Turrell, including one in the forecourt of the NGA.
Immersing art in the landscape, rather than just depicting it, crash-landed in Australia in 1969 with the arrival of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s wrapping of a section of the Little Bay coastal sandstone cliffs just south of Sydney. Although not overtly ecological, their later work highlights the intersection between human intervention and the natural.
A lasting legacy of their visit lies with Marr Grounds who became their key Australian assistant. Trained as an architect, Grounds (nominative determinism?) was already heading in another direction from his studies in environmental art in Berkeley in the 60s. He organised architecture students to assist Christo in the installation.
Subsequently Grounds went on to be Australia’s finest ‘artist in the environment’ executing works like ‘Dingo Fence’ in remote areas and establishing a fine collection of ‘environmental sculpture’, by him and others (see title image) in a private outdoor museum on the south coast of NSW. Typically the works use found objects, either natural materials, such collected sticks to form a wave, or in Marr’s case reinterpreting found rubbish such as a tree ‘ringbarked’ by thongs, or a huge earth sphere of crushed wire invisibly suspended in the spotted-gum trees.
As evocative as they are, some see this approach as harming the very environment they celebrate, and a more minimalist or ‘healing’ art is considered to be more ecologically pure; such as the work of sculptor John Davis whose fabrications of fragile materials, using ideas derived in part from Aboriginal artefacts, are intended to decay and eventually disappear.
Jenny Turpin and Michaelie Crawford’s work, Tied to Tide, with steel crane like structures moving to the tide and waves, seeks to draw attention the subtleties of the environment and heighten respect, especially where previous uses such as wharf activities had highly polluted the harbour. This exemplifies how artists have responded to the sharper focus of the politics of sustainability: making art that is increasingly provocative on environmental issues.
Erth (Environmentally Recycled Theatre) is a trio of artist/activists whose work has evolved from street theatre to physical objects that emphasise a wide range of sustainable practice. Using the mantra of the 3 R’s (repair/reuse/recycle) as a starting point their Metal Tiger, commissioned by the City of Sydney, used materials sourced from not-for-profit Reverse Garbage, to create a 6 meter long, human-powered and LED-lit sculpture for Chinese New Year. Keeping with their green ideas, the material in the tiger was itself recycled into a ‘rabbit’ for the following year’s celebration.
Another artistic direction is practical: fusing of art and industrial design. Early works by Palmer and Fairbanks explore PV solar cells within art, evolving into commercial bags made from recycled materials with cells recharging various devices.
Much of this crossover has concentrated on recycled materials: a small competition for clothing made from waste as ‘wearable art’ in Nelson NZ evolved over 20 years to a world-wide phenomenon, and influenced not only the aesthetics of layered clothes, but highlighted the responsible use of fabrics and labour in mass-produced clothing.
As ‘green design’ becomes more mainstream, so art has responded in its many manifestations: rock festivals stress recycling and ‘green power’, theatre staging uses recycled materials, ‘natural’ materials are highlighted in traditional painting and sculpture straddles the two-edged sword of both using, and highlighting, the environment.
As the lines of design and art are blurred, so the critique that it is still consuming energy and materials increases. The most common defence mounted is that it is “raising awareness”, but what kind of art will be produced when we are all aware of how hard it is to be green?
Title image: “The Wave”, sculpture made from found sticks, Peter (Beatle) Collins, Narra Bukulla, Tanja NSW, Image TW
Next week: Sustainable Performance Art
This is Tone on Tuesday #221, 23 July 2024. Researched and written by Tone Wheeler, architect / Adjunct Prof UNSW / President AAA. The views expressed are his. Past Tone on Tuesday columns can be found here. You can contact TW at [email protected].
