Can art be a reflection of society’s flaws and shortcomings? If we look back in art history, will we see clear hints of the problems people back then where unaware of? Or is it more likely that art is the best tool to describe what the population of the time prioritized and treasured? By “carbon dating” the population’s mindset through works of art of the time, we can be able to perceive what was considered beautiful, captivating, and even standard practice. We might even compare and contrast opinions on ethics and political correctness between the past and our current era. Staying on that subject, what do you think this anthropological study would reveal if we compared the height of excess of the eighties with our current mindset?
Take a mental time travel expedition into that decade of neon decadence. The Hippie flower power return-to-nature ideals had been replaced with a tired outlook towards the future. If it was all going to end, why not go out with a bang, right? The disco scene at the end of the seventies that would then usher in the 24/7 nightlife of the eighties revealed this sort of pessimist worldview. Since the dreams of the sixties had already been crushed, there was nothing left but to enjoy, what little time we had left, to the fullest. Eventually the boom in the economy would change that downer perception into a consumerist narrative, where acquiring material things was enough to fix anything. This perpetuation would lead to the crisis that we face to this day, where we constantly search for ways to undo the mistakes of the past.
On May 4, 1983 a crew of over 400 people began unravelling 6.5 million square feet of bright pink polypropylene over the water surrounding 11 islands of Florida’s Biscayne Bay. The completion of this project would take three days and two weeks, and later it would all be taken down. Despite several environmental groups’ concerns, the unveiling of this installation would prove a success for its creators who began preparations in 1980. After three years, seven public hearings, 10 permit applications, and a hefty bank loan, Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s Surrounded Islands came into existence.
According to Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s website the piece, “was a work of art underlining the various elements and ways in which the people of Miami live, between land and water.” The artists’ website claims that there are no environmental consequences to the works done, to the point where they even explain that in the case of the islands, “…workers removed, before the project, at Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s expense, 40 tons of garbage from the eleven islands.” However, the entire time, as a reader you can’t help but feel as if you’re being belittled for not understanding their art, as if you had to be on their side if you consider yourself a true environmentalist.
The problem with works like this isn’t that they exist, since it’s stated that the fabric would be removed and, most likely, recycled. The issue is that despite the polypropylene used was in woven form, rather than plastic, it is still an element that takes a while to decompose, not to mention that chemicals used to dye the fabric often find their way to rivers and oceans.
Our current society has been forced to be aware of this 360° view of contamination. We can no longer pretend we’re not reaching critical levels. A couple of years ago, pollution only meant what we could perceive instantly. However, when we notice how environmental devastation is closely linked to globalization, capitalism, and consumerism, we begin to see the cracks in the narrative we’ve been fed for so long regarding consequences. In fact, the current generation is suffering the results of past generations that were taught to only worry about the obvious and superficial forms of damage to nature. The problem is not that they did this willingly, but that their social context permitted this due to a lack of scientific understanding, as well as the economic hype of capitalism.
When we see the aerial images of Surrounded Islands, we are left with this incredibly loud sensation of the eighties. After all, Miami in 1983? The bright pink in the water reminds us of the excess and decadence of that era. You can almost hear the music blaring from the speedboats and helicopters where press and art connoisseurs, many who had travelled from New York, observed this massive creation. It all sounds like a harmless endeavor, a pretty thing that actually made people look at “those once-grubby islands as jewels” as Jan van der Marck, then-director of Miami’s Center for the Fine Arts, claimed. But what was so unsightly about these islands? The trash that had continued to collect on their shore? Or the fact that there was nothing much to see before they became part of an art installation?
To contrast this decadent esthetic, our current era has its own version of pink shores and there’s nothing artsy or glamorous about it. In the fall of 2015, a team of American and Mexican scientists working with Scripps Institution of Oceanography conducted an experiment on the beaches of Southern California and Baja California. The Cross Surfzone/Inner-shelf Dye Exchange project used the non-hazardous pink dye in order for researchers to understand the, “transport of a variety of tracers including contaminants, larvae, and more in the nearshore region where humans and ecosystems are directly impacted.”
Obviously, the color was not as striking as the bright pink of Surrounded Islands. Yet the purpose of the experiment was not about being pretty, but about keeping the ocean healthy. Our current era needs to solve puzzles and problems relating to the state of our planet from all sides, not only in the obvious ways. If we are aware of the impact we create in the long run, we can slowly begin to move towards a future where we can appreciate natural beauty without having to turn it into a spectacle. We cannot change the past but we can choose to learn from the mistakes made to slowly find new ways to heal and protect the environment. Until we stop looking for the way nature can work for us, we’ll be able to understand why we need to do everything we can to protect it rather than use it to our advantage.
Sources:
Scripps Institute of Oceanography
Official website of Christo and Jeanne-Claude
The New York Times
Hyperallergic