Back in the days when climate change was a vague notion – something for the 22nd century, order a problematical J curve for academics to ponder over – I thought nothing of hopping on a short haul from LA to Las Vegas, online hiring a chevvy and heading out towards Monument Valley, decease cool desert and home of the Navaho. On the way I would pass the Grand Canyon, a journey that forced me to redefine my concept of size. For this thing, this hole in the ground was absolutely gi-fucking-normous. It just kept on going. No matter how long you drove, you came round a bend and there it was. Still. So huge was this new huge I even had to redefine my sense of how big infinite space might actually be. At the time is was as mind blowing as taking acid. It changed me forever.
Now I’m not saying the film Dirty Oil has changed me forever. But it has affected my mood. For now I discover a bigger huge. Tar Sands in Alberta, Canada. It is – or was – the biggest unspoilt forest in the world. But just underground it’s the second biggest oil reserve in the world after Saudi Arabia. It’s bigger than Florida. Bigger than England. And it is the single biggest emitter of climate change gases in the world. If the oil industry gets the $379 billion investment it’s demanding we’ll get a rise of between 9 and 15 billion parts per million of C02 in the atmosphere. And you know what that means? It means the tipping point of runaway climate change. It can do this all on its own without any help from us leaving lights on or driving short journeys to Tesco.
This film though isn’t content to be another film about climate change. It brings you the human story of the Beaver Lake Kree – who are having their ancestral lands torn up, their rivers and lakes polluted and their health destroyed. Thanks to the arsenic in their fishstocks, the Kree are 30 % more likely to get cancer, including rare ones, than other populations. And why are they subjected to this? So that America gets cheap oil without having to bully – er bother – the Arabs for a decade. That’s it. A decade of cheapish growth. I could weep – except the film left me emotionally stunned. The problem here is capitalism. An unadulterated free market economy where the bottom line profit – the false prophet indeed – over rides all other considerations, including the survival of life on this planet itself, spews unchecked in Alberta. It’s not just a local pollution issue, it’s a global one. The Co-op, which hosted this week’s screenings across the UK, wants us all to petition companies like RBS and BP through our pension plans. But is that enough? Is it even worth having a pension when the future is governed by this ginormous scrag-heap of crap? “It’s time to start blowing things up,” says a comrade as we leave the cinema a little stunned. “How big?” I jest.
But there is a minute sliver of hope here. They don’t raise this in the film, but it was the Cree Indians who predicted that a time would come when we discovered that we can’t eat our money. I think we’re getting there. And a Cree woman called Eyes of Fire fortold: “A time when trees fall, the rivers are black, fish die in the rivers and birds fall from the sky…
“And when it does a tribe will gather from all the cultures ?of the World who believe in deed and not words. ?They will work to heal it… they will be known as the “Warriors of the Rainbow.” Cree Indian Proverb
I assume that’s us. For anyone calling themselves an activist – if we don’t get together and stop Tar Sands, while forcefully overcoming ignorance to promote alternative ways of running economies and energy supplies, we’re doomed. And doomed is just too huge a deal to imagine.
You can read our preview here and find out where to see the film over the next few weeks here.
Written by Marina Pepper on Wednesday March 17th, 2010 4:47 pm
All photography by Amelia Gregory unless otherwise stated.
Over the past few years I have become increasingly embedded in the process of Climate Camp, see so I am well aware that the run up to this year’s Climate Camp has been more fraught with difficulties than ever – but as a spectacularly open grassroots non-heirarchical direct action organisation we would be the first to acknowledge this fact. We argued long and hard about whether RBS was an appropriate target for this year’s activities, physician and we picked our spot without really checking in with Scottish activists who were not present at the meeting, information pills thereby alienating some of our allies… so it’s a testament to the movement we’ve created that I left the Edinburgh camp feeling that Climate Camp, whatever nebulous thing that might be, is stronger than ever. We may not have grown in numbers but there has been a definite increase in the quality of active participation and we are slowly becoming more diverse too – there was a notable improvement in our age, class and racial make up this year, though we still have a long way to go.
And we were successful – we didn’t for one moment imagine that we would make the same kind of splash in the national media as we have in other more southern based years (journalists are notoriously bad at travelling for any kind of story: witness the lack of press surrounding our extremely successful Ratcliffe on Soar action in October 2009) but we certainly made big news in the Scottish press, we did loads of outreach and best of all WE GOT IN THE WAY. We shut shit down and generally made a nuisance of ourselves that served to highlight climate and community wrecking investments in tar sands, open cast coal and biofuels. We’ve cost RBS and the companies it funds a certain amount of money and reputation, and we’ve got people talking.
Setting up site.
So, back to the beginning. I was part of the initial Land Grab on Wednesday evening…. which meant taking two days to get up to Scotland and not at any point giving away our whereabouts. On arrival at our destination we scrambled through fields in search of the huge seven tonne truck that transports our big marquee poles, already parked in the middle of the manicured lands that belong to the RBS HQ. From there I walked into the adjoining field and marvelled at our audacity, for we’ve never been this close to our target before. There it was, the HQ lit up like a giant christmas tree well into the night, rumoured to be so large that it supports its very own supermarket. It seemed almost impossible that with only a hundred people we might take this second field too, but take it we did because soon people were trundling around with wheelbarrows full of tat (an all encompassing word to describe all the stuff we need to run a camp). From the top of the man made mound we could see right into the glass walled HQ, where bored workers were no doubt entertained by us for a few days before RBS decreed they should work from home.
By the time I got up the next morning the site was already humming with activity and new campers who had joined us over the course of the night when they heard about our location via text and twitter. This year’s site, as well as being the cheekiest we have ever taken was also the most beautiful, and abundant with wildlife: mice, frogs and lots and lots of slugs. It’s long layout did however put paid to the permaculture plans we have adhered to in previous years, and necessitated a long walk from one end to the other.
My role at Climate Camp has settled into a bit of a routine – taking photos, video and twittering. It leaves precious little time for physical work around site and I’m usually to be found in the media tent or rushing around on an action. We had incredibly bad reception on this site, and I soon became friendly with the Comms tent which was sited on the top of the hill and had a better 3G signal. For those of you who don’t know what I’m wittering on about, Comms refers to our defence and communications system which works by collating information from people on all the gates around site. It’s a 24 hour a day job and this year it was skill shared in a most impressive way for the first time.
Some of the media team.
I think we’d all been fearful that this camp would be much less well attended than previous ones, but by Friday I estimate that there were almost 1000 people on site, and it felt as though they were all there for a purpose. At Blackheath last year we really focused on outreach and both that and our location ensured rather a lot of sightseeing which unfortunately meant that direct action took a major back seat to workshops. This time the workshops timetable was slimmer, and from early on there was a notable amount of small affinity groups planning direct action in the tall grass. This I think is a good development. And take direct action we did – every day. Here are some of the best actions I took part in:
1. Taking the land, obviously.
The biggest direct action of them all – it’s hard not to be nervous with an action like this on which the rest of Climate Camp depends. We stopped in at some charity shops for entertaining cut price CDs on our way northwards, and as we drove towards our swooping point we played the Star Wars theme tune at top volume. Despite our huge truck and noisy scrambling it took the police at least half an hour to arrive, by which time we were able to hold the space and had started erecting tents by torchlight. It did, however, mean that the advertised swoop the next day was a bit of a damp squib, and some of the participants must have felt a bit left out of all the excitement.
Erecting the first marquees on site by torchlight.
2. Raising a Ruckus
On Friday we held a merry little dance parade around the RBS offices, culminating in an incursion into a conveniently open entrance where we jumped up and down in the doorway whilst security looked bemused and staff gazed down from the floors above. At the same time, unbeknownst to us, a lone activist had infiltrated the offices as a banker and stuck herself to a reception desk, where she berated RBS for agreeing to fund Vedanta’s mining activities on the sacred lands of the Dongria Kondh tribe in India. We later learnt that she had changed her name to Dongria Kondh by deed poll the week before, declaring that she would only change it back if RBS retracted funding. Fortunately it was announced this week that India has blocked the mining operation. Though I quite like Dongria Kondh as a name….
3. A Lady Gaga tribute: the Dirty Oil dance action
Conscious of Climate Camp’s decision to descend on Scotland without much forethought about how we could support local struggles I volunteered to attend the solidarity demo against a new coal mine at Cousland, but then I was reminded that I had also promised to document my Green Kite Midnight friends’ musical action. Lady Gaga won out in the end. Standing inside a small candy striped marquee we learnt new lyrics to Poker Face, featuring the immortal lines:
It’s getting hot, the planet’s nearly shot
We’ll make them stop, we’re putting up a block
…
Tar sands is dirty oil
Can’t use my, can’t use my taxes no
To invest in dirty oil
Rehearsing dance moves and getting ready to leave.
By midday we were ready to take our act to the streets of Edinburgh. With black bin bag bows in hair and fluorescent waistcoats we marched with resolve towards the biggest branch of RBS on St Andrews Square…. to find it already closed. Closed by the threat of song and dance. Score! We then set off on a tour through the town centre, jumping an RBS fringe stage for a special ten minute non-sponsored rendition. You can watch this here. We taught some onlookers the dance moves, bumped into the Greenwash Guerillas en route and handed out loads of leaflets.
Crowds watch us at the Fringe
and the Greenwash Guerillas…
4. Sunday site incursion
I knew there were plans afoot but I wasn’t quite prepared for the huge mass of people dancing towards me in white paper boiler suits. And then they carried on dancing their way over the bridge to RBS, pushing the police back with ease and racing around the corner towards an unguarded part of the RBS HQ. When I got there it became apparent that they had completely taken the police by surprise and several windows had been smashed as the morass propelled forward. For a short moment chaos reigned as the police tried and failed to contain the seething crowd (who needs Black Bloc when you’ve got White Bloc, as one twitterer noted) and they were successfully able to de-arrest several people.
Unfortunately this short point of panic enabled the police to gain the upper hand, and if the intention had been to get in and hold the building we had lost the head start. After two arrests there was a brief stand off with police at the bridge and the action petered out, the white garbed frontline on the bridge replaced by a large white fluffy bunny. I kid thee not.
At our evening plenary a dampener was put on the situation almost immediately. Unfortunately the action had been badly timed to coincide with a speech from our visiting tar sands activists, who had felt seriously disrespected by the disruption to their workshop. They were also uncomfortable with the apparent violence of smashing windows, as were a few others. Through skilful facilitation we were able to talk through these issues, with many good points being made that Climate Camp comprises a diverse range of people who use different tactics, and whilst we would never ever condone physical violence against people, corporate property is another matter altogether. All successful direct action campaigns have attacked physical infrastructure, from the Suffragettes to the 1990s road protest movement. Causing infrastructure damage hits a company where it hurts: their pockets.
An early site-wide meeting.
We’ve always been very careful with our language, although the media often insists on referring to us as “peaceful” or NVDA (Non Violent Direct Action). In another twist seasoned activists have levelled many criticisms at us over the past few years with regards to us being too media friendly. For many this action proved that we really are capable of doing more than the media stunts and banner drops of recent times. It was also acknowledged that whilst we could sympathise with the feelings of First Nations activists it could not dictate the way that Climate Camp works, and indeed whilst we should work hard at international bonds we should not deify indigenous peoples above our local communities. We finished the meeting with a euphoric group hug that seemed to express: Yes! We are powerful together! We can break through police lines and inflict serious physical damage to a building! With a bit more intent we could have got into the HQ and dug in for the duration: of that I have no doubt.
Serving dinner at the South Coast neighbourhood.
5. The RBS Trojan Pig leaking molasses outside Cairn Energy offices
At just past 9am I dropped my half drunk tea and ran full tilt out of the cafe where I had been sitting on Lothian Road. Ahead of me a group of people in black ceremoniously carried a large pink pig – eyes painted with the RBS logo – up the impressive granite steps of the offices for Cairn Energy, who received £117 million in loans from RBS last year, some of which helped them to start drilling for oil off the coast of Greenland. Two activists sprayed molasses against the side of the building in decorative swirls as more molasses seeped out of the pig and down the steps. A security guard briefly looked on, but never moved the large pink carcass which was reported later that day as forlornly pushed aside on the steps. Ironically it is only because of climate change and melting ice that Cairn Energy are able to drill in the polar regions as new oil reserves are revealed. By coincidence a Greenpeace ship reached the drill rig on our day of action, where it was met by a Danish warship. It is hoped that lots of activists will join Crude Awakening, a day of mass action against oil supported by Climate Camp on Saturday October 16th in London.
6. Shutting down Nicolson Street branch of RBS
The weather was not kind to us on our main day of action, and getting lost en route to my next destination didn’t help. By just after 10am I was soaked through to the skin. Across the entrance to Nicolson Street RBS three of my friends glued themselves together with green posters pinned to their fronts that said “Ask me why I won’t bank with RBS“. As customers arrived they engaged them in conversation and then let them duck under their arms. With musicians and a small gaggle of Lady Gaga impersonators I went inside to be greeted by an old man grumbling bad-temperedly at the counter. He then proceeded to watch several reprises of the Dirty Oil song and dance routine, by now familiar to all. Next up was a reinvigorated version of the Gloria Gaynor classic I Will Survive, and as we moved outside the police finally arrived. I went to upload some tweets and when I returned journalists and photographers were out in force and the branch had been closed. Later that day another bunch of activists dressed in bin bags and dripping in molasses closed down the same branch.
7. We’ve built a Rhino Siege Tower!
Yes really. At the top of the hill above RBS what looked like a watch tower had risen during the course of the camp, gaining painted corrugated metal sides and a roof. And perhaps best of all a huge paper mache Rhino head attached to it’s derriere. I got back from the mornings actions to find a huge gaggle of people surrounding the tower, all dressed in wonderful outfits, inspired by medieval battle, clowns, animals and pagan dress. And then we waited…. and waited… and joked about slow action being the new slow food movement. Finally, we were ready to roll. The siege tower was on wheels. And with people guiding it via a series of ropes and pulleys it began to inch it’s way around the wind break and down the hill as we all held our breath and prayed that it didn’t topple into the bank of photographers waiting below. This process took about four hours, by which time I’d long since stopped worrying that I would miss anything crucial every time I went to recharge my damn iphone again. Over at the bridge a series of mollassapaults were fired onto the HQ by black clad activists. And then as we finally crawled towards the gate the rain really set in. Dancing animals met lines of riot police and squirted silly string over their heads as the Siege Tower finally cleared a low hanging branch and the rhino headbutted a police van.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a line of riot cops so bemused. What the hell were we doing? On the side of the tower There Is No Planet B had been painted over at some point during the long journey to say There Is No Plan. My camera decided to complain about the incessant rain. It packed up. I decided to call it a day, and soon so did many soggy others. The Guardian’s live blog had long since stopped reporting on our actions of the day since most of them were done in the morning – including a very brilliant banner drop off the roof of Forth Energy in Leith in protest of a new and huge biomass scheme that would require the mass importation of vast quantities of wood chip.
And so, we didn’t give the mainstream media the huge action they might have liked. Instead we gave them lots of small and effective affinity group actions across Edinburgh and beyond, as planned. Topped off with the most surreal action of them all – a Rhino Siege Tower that effectively closed down the RBS HQ merely through creative farce and the power of suggestion. Sometimes my heart is so full of love for the thing that is Climate Camp that it feels fit to burst.
Other highlights of this years’ camp included a storming ceilidh (apologies to the Scottish for making this word our own) with my band Green Kite Midnight, spoken word from Harry Giles, visits from Fringe comedians Albie Philbin Bowman and Josie Long, and dancing long into the night after our day of action. Despite all the trials and tribulations of being so involved with Climate Camp I can’t wait to see what we come up with next. Even if we didn’t Break the Banks you’ve got to admit it was a damn good slogan, and we’ve successfully managed to highlight the investment of our money in fossil fuels to a far wider public. Now we just need to change the system that encourages wanton consumption of fossil fuels to the wide scale detriment of the only planet we have to live on. Who’s up for helping out?
Albie Philbin Bowman performs for us.
See some of Josie Long’s performance on this link.
Many other inspiring actions happened across the course of the camp, but these did not include the supposed oil spill on the A8 on Monday morning, as press released by the police. Our targets have always been corporations and the government not innocent people, but isn’t it somehow predictable that the press picked up on the “oil spill” so relentlessly – happy to reel it off as fact without adequate research or proof. More on how the press have related to this year’s Climate Camp in my next blog post here.
A beautiful painted compost loo.
Written by Amelia Gregory on Friday August 27th, 2010 11:34 am
“The clothes act as an antithesis to the way of the disposable modern world, ask making something new out of something old, approved reducing waste and consuming less” Lu Flux
Ethical fashion is definitely a buzz word at the moment. Branching out from the confinements and stereotypes of hemp clothing and hippie cast offs, rx designers are reinventing ethical fashion with distinct creative flair and a dash of compassion. I would like to introduce the fashion industry’s latest compassionate creative mind, Lu Flux.
With a passion for refashioning and reusing materials, Lu Flux works with organic, vintage and salvaged fabrics to create sartorially sound garments bursting at the seems with originality and natural elements. Off the wall clothes and hand crafted collections with quirky accents make Lu Flux the polar opposite of throw-away fashion. The ethical fashion designer showcases a distinct passion for textiles, and says “I’ve always been excited by textiles. That’s why I got into fashion.”
Vintage has received a massive resurgence recently, with fashionistas’ trolling charity stores and vintage treasure troves for pre-loved garments to rework and give a modern twist. Lu is no exception to the trend. Seeking out fabrics which have relished a former life, She scours charity shops for new finds to inspire and in some cases, create her collection.
“It all started when I was volunteering at Shelter. I used to sort through all the donated clothes. Now when I’m looking in charity shops I take the clothes that have either bobbled, ripped or simply aren’t selling. London is increasingly expensive and difficult to get high quality fabrics. Whenever I visit the Isle of Wight to visit my parents, I raid the island!”
Whilst studying fashion at the Edinburgh College of Art, she discovered her love of the “antiqued way pre-loved fabric looks. You can’t replicate it. I love the look of the cotton that’s been washed and worn.” But soon, her whimsical designs ventured out from the confinements of the college studio and onto the Fashion Scout catwalk. Proving to be the turning point in her career, Lu was selected against fierce competition to showcase her designs as part of the “Ones to Watch” show.
Boasting exceptional quality, Lu Flux fashion has an underlying tone of British eccentricity with a touch of child-like nostalgia. After viewing her garments, you can see a definite love of different techniques and interesting detailing. Lu Flux salvages yarns to weave, knit and patchwork to form her ethical yet fashionable creations. “I love mixing in the traditional techniques that are getting forgotten. I love the textures you can create through different mediums. I don’t want to use just one technique. I want to design for men and women, knit and up cycle.”
Full to the brim with sartorial panache and an extraordinary mishmash of cherry picked vintage fabrics, she provides the perfect harmony between fashion and ethical motives. Lu Flux is changing the general perspective of ethical fashion, one salvaged fabric at a time.
The Big Chill House in King’s Cross was host to Love Spain/Hate Bullfighting last Thursday evening, order a street art competition ran by the League Against Cruel Sports, in association with Panic. The work they do is very commendable and campaign against the unnecessary and brutal cruelty towards animals in the name of sport. Their message is simple: enjoy the Spanish culture, the food, the beaches, the history. But don’t support their bullfighting arena. A speech made by a representative from the league informs me of some shocking facts. Subsidies from the EU fund this trade every year – to the tune of £200 million in fact. Inadvertently, we are supporting it through our taxes, which hits home quite hard.
I was more than happy to sign their petition, agreeing to never visit a bullfight, as was everyone else who came to support the evening. Running simultaneously in Barcelona, was the same event, announcing their own winner. The aim of this competition was for talented street artists to come up with a design that promotes the ‘Love Spain, Hate Bullfighting’ message, whilst celebrating Spain’s many attributes.
After scanning the room a few times (and with a complimentary bottle of Estrella Damm in hand – nice touch LACS), I settle upon the poster of Genevieve Beharry from Toronto, Canada. The powder blue and blood red palette is subtle yet effective, with your attention draw immediately to the strong form of a bull’s head shaped as a heart in the centre of the page. The poster is beautifully symmetrical, with simplified lines and shapes to describe the bull’s features. The black typography has quite a romantic sensibility, like the signature of a love letter. Flowing voluptuous curves follow the ascenders, bowls and descents of each letter, hugging the emphatic image of the bull at the core. The words have a hand crafted feel to it, like Beharry may have rendered them herself. This makes for quite a pleasing contrast between the hand made and the computer generated – both playing off one another harmoniously. As with all of the posters here, type and image are both necessary and important components to the design of the poster and this isn’t an easy balance to get right. Beharry successfully melds these elements together in a coherent way for the viewer to read. She says of her approach to the brief, “I wanted to do something simple and iconic for this poster. I chose not to focus on any violent aspects of bullfighting visually, and instead made a bull’s head into a heart, to represent the word ‘love’”.
One of my few favourite pieces on display is by Manchester based artist Melanie McPhail. Less graphically influenced than some of the other entries here, her delicate and charming illustration still manages to pack a punch. A brown paper background is the foundation for this hand-drawn image. A duo of graphite pencil and colour pencil work together to form a bull in the foreground and what appears to be a landscape of hills behind it. At first it looks like drops of blood are cascading down the hill to the bull from a gated, Spanish coat of arms. On closer inspection, they are tiny red love hearts and it becomes clear that the ambiguous nature of them was intentional by McPhail. The artist plays on this specific style of illustration with the hand drawn type, in a naïve manner. ‘Love Spain’ is in lowercase and again, in joined-up handwriting that sits above ‘HATE BULLFIGHTING’, in thicker, blocked capitals. In this way, her point is emphasized, the gentle nature of the first part of the slogan is submissive to the forcefulness of the latter. She may not be as literal with her point as others are, but I think this works to her advantage – finding a way to communicate the rather brutal message in a subtle way. McPhail says, “Spanish people should be embracing the power and beauty of this animal, which represents their country, instead of killing it”.
The work of Matt Glen is a strong contrast to the style of the previously described posters. The remit of ‘street art’ is probably most apparent in this case, as we are presented with a plaque nailed to a white-washed wall. Made to imitate the sort of sign that you would see in a housing estate to warn children against ball games, the plate reads, ‘no bull games’. You may decide at first that this is perhaps a rather cheesy pun, but it is also simple and straight to the point. There is nothing flowery or over embellished about his approach and this means that it translates well, in a language that can be understood across the board. It does make me consider what is the most effective way of communicating a message such as this. Is it better to convey something in plain and simple terms at the expense of making it look what might be considered, a beautiful illustration? The use of red on white is a very powerful visual technique for high impact and certainly reaches the mark. There is also something about the photographic element to the work that makes it feel more tangible, like it is a real documentation as opposed to a drawing.
The winner was announced at the end of the evening, a very deserving Rhian Rowlands. As I am having thoughts of making tracks, I note that although every single poster entered in this competition has used a palette of reds, blacks and whites or variations thereof and this has been completely coincidental. I discover from ______, part of the League Against Cruel Sports, that the brief never specified the colours to be used. There seemed to be a unified response to the brief, not only in the choice of colour and printing methods but also in the need and want to make a worthwhile statement. It was encouraging to see people come together in this way and to engage young people in this campaign.
The Big Chill House in King’s Cross was host to Love Spain/Hate Bullfighting last Thursday evening, pharm a street art competition ran by the League Against Cruel Sports, viagra approved in association with Panic. The work they do is very commendable and campaign against the unnecessary and brutal cruelty towards animals in the name of sport. Their message is simple: enjoy the Spanish culture, the food, the beaches, the history. But don’t support their bullfighting arena. A speech made by a representative from the league informs me of some shocking facts. Subsidies from the EU fund this trade every year – to the tune of £200 million in fact. Inadvertently, we are supporting it through our taxes, which hits home quite hard.
I was more than happy to sign their petition, agreeing to never visit a bullfight, as was everyone else who came to support the evening. Running simultaneously in Barcelona, was the same event, announcing their own winner. The aim of this competition was for talented street artists to come up with a design that promotes the ‘Love Spain, Hate Bullfighting’ message, whilst celebrating Spain’s many attributes.
After scanning the room a few times (and with a complimentary bottle of Estrella Damm in hand – nice touch LACS), I settle upon the poster of Genevieve Beharry from Toronto, Canada. The powder blue and blood red palette is subtle yet effective, with your attention draw immediately to the strong form of a bull’s head shaped as a heart in the centre of the page. The poster is beautifully symmetrical, with simplified lines and shapes to describe the bull’s features. The black typography has quite a romantic sensibility, like the signature of a love letter. Flowing voluptuous curves follow the ascenders, bowls and descents of each letter, hugging the emphatic image of the bull at the core. The words have a hand crafted feel to it, like Beharry may have rendered them herself. This makes for quite a pleasing contrast between the hand made and the computer generated – both playing off one another harmoniously. As with all of the posters here, type and image are both necessary and important components to the design of the poster and this isn’t an easy balance to get right. Beharry successfully melds these elements together in a coherent way for the viewer to read. She says of her approach to the brief, “I wanted to do something simple and iconic for this poster. I chose not to focus on any violent aspects of bullfighting visually, and instead made a bull’s head into a heart, to represent the word ‘love’”.
One of my few favourite pieces on display is by Manchester based artist Melanie McPhail. Less graphically influenced than some of the other entries here, her delicate and charming illustration still manages to pack a punch. A brown paper background is the foundation for this hand-drawn image. A duo of graphite pencil and colour pencil work together to form a bull in the foreground and what appears to be a landscape of hills behind it. At first it looks like drops of blood are cascading down the hill to the bull from a gated, Spanish coat of arms. On closer inspection, they are tiny red love hearts and it becomes clear that the ambiguous nature of them was intentional by McPhail. The artist plays on this specific style of illustration with the hand drawn type, in a naïve manner. ‘Love Spain’ is in lowercase and again, in joined-up handwriting that sits above ‘HATE BULLFIGHTING’, in thicker, blocked capitals. In this way, her point is emphasized, the gentle nature of the first part of the slogan is submissive to the forcefulness of the latter. She may not be as literal with her point as others are, but I think this works to her advantage – finding a way to communicate the rather brutal message in a subtle way. McPhail says, “Spanish people should be embracing the power and beauty of this animal, which represents their country, instead of killing it”.
The work of Matt Glen is a strong contrast to the style of the previously described posters. The remit of ‘street art’ is probably most apparent in this case, as we are presented with a plaque nailed to a white-washed wall. Made to imitate the sort of sign that you would see in a housing estate to warn children against ball games, the plate reads, ‘no bull games’. You may decide at first that this is perhaps a rather cheesy pun, but it is also simple and straight to the point. There is nothing flowery or over embellished about his approach and this means that it translates well, in a language that can be understood across the board. It does make me consider what is the most effective way of communicating a message such as this. Is it better to convey something in plain and simple terms at the expense of making it look what might be considered, a beautiful illustration? The use of red on white is a very powerful visual technique for high impact and certainly reaches the mark. There is also something about the photographic element to the work that makes it feel more tangible, like it is a real documentation as opposed to a drawing.
The winner was announced at the end of the evening, a very deserving Rhian Rowlands. As I am having thoughts of making tracks, I note that although every single poster entered in this competition has used a palette of reds, blacks and whites or variations thereof and this has been completely coincidental. I discover from an organiser from the League Against Cruel Sports, that the brief never specified the colours to be used. There seemed to be a unified response to the brief, not only in the choice of colour and printing methods but also in the need and want to make a worthwhile statement. It was encouraging to see people come together in this way and to engage young people in this campaign.
Last Saturday was the 350 International Day of Climate Action, try tens of thousands of people gathered around the world in hundreds of countries to raise awareness about the risk of climate change across the planet.
350 incase you were wondering, purchase is the safe limit for carbon dioxide in the world and right now we have a concentration of co2 of 390 ppm. So we need to radically reduce our carbon emissions if we want to live in a safe planet.
The scale of the action worldwide was a first of it’s kind and it is pretty awe-inspiring to see how many different people got together and acted, putting their heads together to come up with ideas and imaginative responses, to Bates college having a impromptu dance, to divers in Perhentian Island, Malyasia spending Saturday cleaning a coral reef and people marking out 350 in the middle of an American football pitch.
The actions weren’t just symbolic; people in Kenya mobilized the youth of the community to clean up the garbage and use it to mark out 350, which was also replicated in Hungary.
The fact that people around the world understood and were educating people about the science behind climate change was also a great action in itself. Often sceptics need facts and figures and seeing hundreds and thousands of people responding to this number meant climate change reached out on a whole new level. People often had to ask what this specific number was about, which also meant everybody on the day had to explain to public and passers by.
The mass actions, grouped together people to use their bodies to mark out 350, whether in front of pyramids, next to the sea or other famous landmarks across the globe.
I went down to the mass action/art installation in London just in front of the London eye to take part.
We mingled around as 2 o’clock was coming up, and as the crowd grew it attracted more and more people to come and join in, for who can really resist a crowd?
With people spending the morning outreaching to the public along the busy embankment by 2 o’clock we had at least 500 people ready to spend their time making some climate art. I was wondering how many were there for the spectacle rather than the cause, but after a couple of speakers trying to shout their messages as loud as possible through a megaphone meant at least everybody was fairly clear why we were there.
After snaking around marked out area we created a huge five, with the three coming from Sydney and the zero from Copenhagen it was really was a global act. Jumping, crouching and waving we played to the camera and after the pictures were taken the crowd dispersed.
Climate science gained even more integrity, seeing so many people acting is hard to put down as a few scaremongerers and hippy folk looking to upset the status quo, it was a global mass movement that is growing in momentum leading up to Copenhagen talks in December, where world leaders will meet to attempt to solve the climate problem.
As it was the day of action however I had a few misgivings, were these human art installations just gimmicks and would we need to see more direct responses to divert the runway effects of climate change like the Great Climate Swoop last week? Did people think by just using art to persuade governments to act against the powerful corporations would be enough to stop the growing selfish acts of capitalism? Albeit as people walked away it definitely felt it was at least one step in the right direction, just not a giant leap.
Written by Adam S on Tuesday October 27th, 2009 2:34 pm
