Radical Nature: Art and Architecture for a Changing Planet 1969-2009 (Installation view) Barbican Art Gallery June 19 – October 18 2009 Photocredit Lyndon Douglas

Radical Nature: art and architecture for a changing planet 1969-2009 - Barbican Gallery

A self-portrait of a fox, a rainforest growing sideways, and a life sustaining herb garden are just a few of the environmentally charged displays at the Barbican Gallery’s latest exhibition, Radical Nature: Art and Architecture for a Changing Planet 1969-2009.

The exhibition tackles a range of environmental issues. For instance, Tue Greenfort’s Daimlerstrasse 38, 2001, a series of eight colour photographs, which captured foxes that were lured to areas where the artist had previously installed cameras with hotdogs attached to their flex cables. When the foxes grabbed the ‘bait,’ the camera’s shutter went off documenting the animals’ actions.

Henrik Hakansson’s, Fallen Forest, 2006, juxtaposes manufactured technology with natural elements by flipping a 16-meter-square fragment of rainforest sideways inside the gallery and providing artificial lighting as its life force. Through his manipulation, Hakansson adds a dash of black humour to his comment on man’s unbalanced relationship with nature.

Newton Harrison and Helen Mayer Harrison restaged their 1972 urban farming collaboration, Full Farm, which was a culmination of their Survival Series, 1970-1972. Their work is an investigation of techniques for self-sustainable living. On this occasion, the team planted a variety of British crops, containing all the nutrients required for survival, in boxes inside the gallery as well as on the Babrican’s rooftop.

In addition to the Harrisons, works by old timers such as the artist collective Ant Farm, known for promoting communication between humans and dolphins and Lothar Baumgarten, a sculptor who explored the relationship between nature and culture are exhibited alongside contemporary artists, such as former Turner Prize Winner, Simon Starling. The combination of artists both past and present creates an interesting dialogue allowing visitors to contemplate how our relationship with nature has changed over the years.

But the show is not merely an investigation of artists’ reactions to nature but rather, as curator Francesco Manacorda explains, an opportunity to “trace the history of artists’ responses to environmental crisis.” Based on this reasoning, Manacorda chose artists, Richard Buckminster Fuller, Robert Smithson, Joseph Beuys, and Hans Haacke as an inspirational backdrop for the exhibition. Their work assisted the curator in defining the criteria for establishing the themes explored throughout the exhibition.

Comparing artists of the late 1960s through the 90s with contemporary artists’ take on nature, Manacorda observes, “The older generations were concerned with issues such as pollution and the oil crisis, while contemporary artists are focused on things like climate change.”

The role of the artist has changed as well, in the 60s and 70s the artists took on environmental issues as if it was their job to raise awareness while the approach of contemporary artists is more analytical and focuses on how these crises affect us as individuals. But is this a nicer way or saying that contemporary artists have become more selfish? Or have they thrown their hands in the air exasperated over the current environmental issues and instead have opted to deal with them as personal contemplations rather than taking on a ‘save the world’ mentality?

Whereas the older generation adopted more of a ‘call to action’ position, artists today are seemingly more interested in exploring micro systems and investigating how eco systems actually work. According to Manacorda, “their contribution is one that doesn’t have to be valued for its practical outcome but more as a creative way of reconsidering our relationship with the environment,” and he believes that artists are generally concerned about the environment.

Critics have commented on the anti-green aspects of the show, particularly, the artificial lighting, shipping costs, and power tools used to create, for instance, A12’s Green Room, 2009, a wooden greenhouse lined with mirrored walls. Manacorda argues, “We try to minimise it [carbon emissions], the point is to try and do whatever you can and employ strategies to lower the impact. Many of the works were created here for example rather than being transported, but every action has an impact on the environment. Even with an online exhibition there is an impact.”Another noticeable strategy is the text printed on the back of old exhibition posters, which are used throughout the exhibition replacing the traditional cardboard gallery plaques.

Radical Nature goes beyond the gallery to engage the public with off-site projects. Tree Radical kicked off the exhibition by deploying 50 participants dressed as trees to wander the streets concentrating on popular locations such as Covent Garden and Piccadilly Circus entertaining the public with singing, dancing, and performances while simultaneously reminding them of the natural world that coexists within the urban landscape of London.
Another project took in northeast London. Inspired by Agnes Denes’ 1982 installation Wheatfield – A Confrontation, for which the artist planted and temporarily maintained a wheat field in a landfill in Manhattan’s Battery Park as a means of protesting against global waste, the Barbican commissioned architectural collective EXYZT, to create The Dalston Mill. The recreation of Denes’ wheat field in included a functioning mill and featuring music, tea and a chance to meet the artists.

There is something unnatural about bringing nature inside the gallery. Similarly, manipulating nature outside of the gallery is just as unnatural, i.e. a wheat field in Battery Park. There is a point where ‘green’ comes to be defined not as an environmental descriptor but rather an aesthetic but when dealing with man’s relationship with nature, isn’t that the point?