Two people and a dog face away from the camera, while looking up at a large, green photograph of a bull hanging on the wall of the Hayward Gallery.

Ackroyd & Harvey, Field Study – bull, 2003. Grass, clay. 7m x 5m. Image occurs on a molecular level through the process of photosynthesis. Special commission, National Eisteddfod, Wales, UK

Reclaiming the Commons Through Art

Ahead of the opening of Dear Earth, the Hayward Gallery’s summer show that shines light on the climate emergency, artist duo Ackroyd & Harvey speak with grassroots organizers about the transformative power of art in reframing our relationship—and proximity—to nature.

Heather Ackroyd and Dan Harvey’s artistic process starts with a seed; a seed that turns to grass, the only material on their canvas. Their art—which is inspired by Vandana Shiva’s call to reclaim ‘the commons,’ the vital natural resources we all need to sustain life—is formed in the dark, growing seeds using light from a projected photographic negative. Where light falls, the grass blades produce a green pigment: chlorophyll. Areas with less light are a pale green. And in areas that see no light, the grass grows but turns yellow. The process is slow, organic—born from nature. But by growing art, Ackroyd & Harvey remind us just how crucial photosynthesis is for the existence of life on Earth. 

 

Ackroyd & Harvey are two of 15 artists—such as Agnes Denes, Richard Mosse, Imani Jacqueline Brown, and Otobong Nkanga—who are exhibiting work at Dear Earth, the Hayward Gallery’s summer exhibition that brings together creative responses to the climate emergency. For Dear Earth, Ackroyd & Harvey photographed five grassroots organizers and grew large-scale portraits of them, a process they describe as a collaboration between artist and activist. They include Julian Lahai-Taylor from Grow Lewisham, a collective working to improve access to local land; nature rights activist Paul Powlesland, who cofounded Lawyers for Nature and the River Roding Trust; Helene Schulze of London Freedom Seed Bank, which is building an urban seed common; LIVE + BREATHE cofounder Love Ssega, who is campaigning to raise awareness around the disproportionate impact of unclean air on Black and Brown communities in London; and Destiny Boka-Batesa, who helped found Choked Up, which raises awareness around the intersection of air pollution and environmental racism. 

 

Below, Heather and Dan of Ackroyd & Harvey speak with Julian, Paul, Love Ssega, and Destiny about the critical role of art in conveying the urgency of climate change, fostering emotional connections with nature, and igniting a collective response to safeguard the environment for future generations.

Daphne

How can art effectively communicate the urgency and impact of climate change to evoke an emotional response and inspire action?

Heather

I think this is key. Recently, a report surfaced from the University of Wisconsin in the United States. It focused on a particular artwork that incorporated data related to the Keeling Curve, which measures annual carbon emissions into the atmosphere. The artist represented this data through her chosen medium. Surprisingly, the viewers absorbed the information in a different way compared to encountering dry data presented in scientific books or journals. People struggled to comprehend or even felt somewhat repelled by the straightforward data. But the use of art made it much more palatable. Both climate deniers and those fully aware of the crisis found common ground through the arts—and this is really interesting.

 

Through the portraits we have grown, we have cultivated relationships with wonderful individuals whom we consider collaborators. The beauty of nature resides in the pigment chlorophyll. Light acts upon a blade of grass as it grows and it can make these phenomenal photographic images, which are revelationary. The images have an almost commemorative energy, which allows you to sit back, study and inhabit nature as they grow and reveal the portraits. 

Dan

What is wonderful about art is the way it can stimulate an emotional response. Sometimes when you’re dealing with data and information, there can be a level of detachment. But by tapping into people’s emotions and fostering a sense of love for nature, we can provide another way in. It is a restorative and caring method. Art and music, among other things, possess unique capabilities to communicate and strike a chord in a different way.

A large, pyramid shaped art installation sits in the middle of a room at the Hayward Gallery.
Installation view of Agnes Denes, Dear Earth: Art and Hope in a Time of Crisis (21 Jun –⁠ 3 Sep 2023). Photo: Mark Blower. Courtesy the Hayward Gallery.

Julian

I believe that the topics we are discussing—the soil, the sun, the light, and the seed—converge in a meeting place. And it is there that art takes shape and forms an image. That’s where the miracle happens. It is when all these elements come together, on the land, on the ground, on the soil, or on a canvas, that we demonstrate our ability to emotionally, physically, and mentally guide us towards wellbeing; to care. As humans, we require this connection. And this meeting point of elements, particularly the soil, is Mother Nature speaking to us.

Love Ssega

Adding on Julian’s point, what I find really interesting about Ackroyd & Harvey’s work is that it’s visual and also grown; it’s natural. It serves as a reminder that art is fundamentally rooted in our existence, an organic entity. As a musician, I perceive music as a manifestation of frequencies. When you touch the soil, you can feel these frequencies. They resonate within myself, among my collaborators, and everyone present. This connection not only contributes to our wellbeing but also fosters a sense of community. When communities come together, we need to use these frequencies—whether it’s the light frequencies we see in the chlorophyll or the sound frequencies from music—to amplify and address the problem of our time. And the problem of our time is the destruction of the Earth and the systemic separation of ourselves and nature.

“The beauty of nature resides in the pigment chlorophyll. Light acts upon a blade of grass as it grows and it can make these phenomenal photographic images, which are revelationary.”

Heather Ackroyd
Artist

Destiny

Yes, raising awareness about the severity of the climate crisis, validly explaining just how severe it is, is really difficult. It’s easy to switch off—especially when we’re looking at a document full of stats. But in the context of Dear Earth, I think the presence of individuals like us, grassroots organizers who have actively contributed to the works on display, means it’s not something you can necessarily avoid. People like looking at beautiful things. Sometimes, we simply need to be reminded of the situation in a way that makes sense. I think that’s critical. 

Heather

Our artworks revolve around the notion of reclaiming the commons. Throughout history, the commons held significant importance, allowing people to graze animals, engage in farm work, and access water. But systematic privatization and space closures have drastically reduced our access. And parallel to that, industries’ carbon dioxide emissions and extraction have led to pervasive air pollution. The level of degradation at every level is staggering. It has become nearly impossible to find what one would call pristine habitats or ecosystems because of this spoilage. That is why we have to stop and ask: Where does restoration and regeneration truly originate?

Paul

Historically, the commons referred to the shared resources among humans, and many environmental stories revolve around this notion. But it is also critical to bring nature into these stories as nature needs to be properly represented and protected. I think this is why I quite like the artworks—it’s not just about depicting nature, it’s literally made from it too, which makes it very special.

A woman dressed in an orange shirt faces away from the camera, looking at a large painting hanging on a white wall at the Hayward Gallery.
Installation view of Richard Mosse, Dear Earth: Art and Hope in a Time of Crisis (21 Jun –⁠ 3 Sep 2023). Photo: Mark Blower. Courtesy the Hayward Gallery.
A woman in a red shirt faces away from the camera, looking at a small painting hanging on the wall at the Hayward Gallery.
Installation view of Agnes Denes, Dear Earth: Art and Hope in a Time of Crisis (21 Jun –⁠ 3 Sep 2023). Photo: Mark Blower. Courtesy the Hayward Gallery.

Dan

I think much of the conversation often revolves around climate change, and it is really important to consider its impact on nature. It is not only that this planet might not become sustainable for human life, it’s also about the countless creatures that we are eradicating from our ecosystems. These beings deserve advocates. I think around 96% of mammals on Earth are either humans or are bred by us for our purposes. That leaves only 4% that remain in the wild, and 2% of those are marine mammals. But nature is strong. It can come back. We can make a difference and that’s what everyone is working towards.

Julian

Yes, and it’s so important that our actions are accompanied by legislative measures. We are not just fighting for our rights; we are entitled to happiness, balance, and access to a balanced diet that sustains life. And in that fight, we can’t neglect the welfare of animals and wildlife, as they play an interconnected role in providing us with resources that supply our needs. Without the creatures, and the soil, and the food, we cannot guarantee our survival.

Daphne

Yes, it’s so important to consider ourselves as part of a thriving ecosystem—as a species that is dependent on a healthy planet. But it feels like we’re increasingly losing touch with that perspective. On that note, how can artists use their creativity to educate the public about climate-related issues—especially when it comes to bridging the gap between scientific data, activism, and public understanding?

Heather

For me, the purpose of art extends beyond it being purely prescriptive. It is about forging connections that hold individuals in a moment longer than just passing by. It goes beyond a fleeting encounter. We want people to pause and be with the work. We want them to think about what they’re seeing and how it is affecting them. And then leave thinking, ‘Okay, I need to go back and understand more about this.’ That is when an artwork—or music or a film—moves in; when it inspires new ideas. If art can touch us as individuals, it can push us forward and make us more curious; foster new connections.

Three large portraits hang on the wall at the Hayward Gallery.
Installation view of Ackroyd & Harvey, Dear Earth: Art and Hope in a Time of Crisis (21 Jun –⁠ 3 Sep 2023). Photo: Mark Blower. Courtesy the Hayward Gallery.

Dan

Also culture changes over time, and society shifts, which is something we’re seeing especially in the aftermath of events like the COVID-19 pandemic. But our government isn’t showing that same willingness to change with the times. There’s that phrase, fuck the system—but I think now is really the time that the ecosystem, our environment, needs to be unfucked.

Julian

I have created a small allotment where I have created a little studio or open auditorium where I encourage young people to express themselves through poetry, writing lyrics, and rhythm. They just pick up the microphone and play music; they chat about what’s on their mind, what’s stressing them out, what’s irritating them, what’s new in their life. Everything happens in this open garden.

 

Gardens offer a space where we can reconnect with nature—instead of being confined to a classroom filled with computers. In a garden, you can enjoy looking at a bee on a flower, you can enjoy the presence of a bird perched on a tree. It brings us back to our roots—back down to nature.

Destiny

If we really boil it down, I think all art in whatever shape is political. Personally, I have been writing poems since I was nine. When I write about climate justice or related issues, it’s nice to speak my own language and be understood by others, instead of constantly molding my thoughts to fit their understanding. Having people just sitting and listening to you requires a certain level of vulnerability. 

 

Much of our work at Choked Up follows a hearts and minds approach, rooted in empathy and our collective drive. I always emphasize that campaigning is bigger than one person; it is about uplifting others while incidentally also uplifting oneself. And the current political climate and the gradual erosion of our right to protest is alarming. Whether protest is considered an art form or not is a separate question, but I have personally experienced the significance of joining my friends on the streets during the climate strikes. It was one of the first times I finally found a space where I knew people actually cared about climate work.

“I believe that the topics we are discussing—the soil, the sun, the light, and the seed—converge in a meeting place. And it is there that art takes shape and forms an image.”

Julian Lahai-Taylor
Grow Lewisham

Dan

The creativity exhibited by Extinction Rebellion is amazing. The idea of a pink boat bolted in the middle of Oxford Circus as a stage, allowing for talks or live music, is so inventive. And then there’s the graphics they use, the block printing, as a way to spread information around the climate emergency. The design of the slogans, the use of colors, isn’t commercial—it’s art. It creates a sense of joy within the protests which is really one of the most moving things I’ve been involved with.

Love Ssega

Yes, it’s true. But then it is crucial that people higher up the chain also play their part, so that the responsibility does not solely rest on the youth to continue striking. The collaboration needs to extend upwards, involving institutions like for instance the Hayward Gallery or the Southbank Centre, who are actively commissioning artists on the topic of climate change. There’s serious money in the creative industries that could be put to good use. I say this especially with the big corporations in mind, who are making billions by extracting resources from our planet—they need to be held accountable and redistribute their wealth. In other words: if you’re making billions you’re extracting from the Earth in one way or another. So, it’s only just that you put that money back into the Earth. 

Paul

Yes, I think it’s important for people visiting the exhibition to not just admire the artwork and think, “That’s attractive” or “I’m glad others are taking action.” I hope they’re inspired to go and take action themselves—whether that means getting involved in activism or nature guardianship. Personally, nature guardianship feels really important because it involves people taking it upon themselves to go and look after nature. The Right to Roam campaign is crucial in making nature more accessible because the majority of land in the UK is inaccessible to most people. And that’s not just a social justice issue—we’re being denied our right to care. Our right to look after the world should be a birthright. 

 

The campaign demands that we be able to access land. It’s built on the idea of a “wild service,” that we should be allowed to be in service to nature. I think there’s something in our souls and hearts that deeply want this connection. It is also an immense privilege—I think more people should not only have the opportunity for this connection but should also be empowered to embrace it fully.

A blue square hovers above a white circle at the Hayward Gallery.
Installation view of Imani Jacqueline Brown, Dear Earth: Art and Hope in a Time of Crisis (21 Jun –⁠ 3 Sep 2023). Photo: Mark Blower. Courtesy the Hayward Gallery.
Two young people sit inside a green, art installed room at the Hayward Gallery.
Installation view of Cristina Iglesias, Dear Earth: Art and Hope in a Time of Crisis (21 Jun –⁠ 3 Sep 2023). Photo: Mark Blower. Courtesy the Hayward Gallery.

Daphne

Looking ahead to a more sustainable and regenerative future, I wonder whether you could talk a bit about the role of artists and activists in envisioning these futures and offering alternative narratives that inspire hope, resilience, and innovative solutions?

Heather

Yes, it’s fascinating to observe how the cultural landscape has really opened up. We now see more curators and commissioning of artwork that delves into climate-related issues. Some artists are even creating living art forms that resemble gardens or even engage in practices such as farming. Artists are working within architecture and inhabited spaces to break down and dissolve gallery walls. They recognize that artwork can involve community and encourage growing.

Dan

I agree, it’s encouraging to see influential figures such as Frances Morris, the director of the Tate, acknowledging the climate and ecological emergency. Movements like Culture Declares Emergency further amplify the cause, while galleries, like the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts, now have climate curators. There is a fundamental shift. Galleries are beginning to question what type of art is worth sharing.

“It’s so easy to fall into this spiral of not thinking that you’re good enough; not thinking that you can make a change. No great movement has ever started without a conversation.”

Destiny Boka-Batesa
Choked Up

Julian

Adding to that, back in the day, the artist’s opinion really mattered. Whereas today, the current legal framework puts up barriers that only benefit the wealthy and ignores the fact that the world is made up of animals, plants, and essential natural resources. Addressing this issue is necessary to create change. We must act now—because if we don’t change what we can now it will be too late in the future. Fortunately, art and creativity will persist and provide a foundation for future generations to step into the space we leave behind. For this, they also need a healthy planet. And so we need to find a way to establish laws that explicitly protect nature and allow it to thrive under proper safeguards.

Love Ssega

I think it’s important to look at the channels through which change can occur. It’s pretty clear to us now that politicians and the media are necessary in pushing for and implementing legal safeguards. And so artists have had to consider their role in shaping the narrative. As an artist, you’ve got to be talking about what’s happening in your time. Just as Turner and Gainsborough depicted the landscapes, trains, and steam of their era, we must show what we see today. The challenge we face is to make the revolution healing, to make it sexy, to inspire young people to make young people say that they want to join in.

 

As an artist, you provide the opportunities to amplify the different voices of people or communities with the lived experience to say what needs doing. Let’s take the Titanic as an analogy, let’s consider music. In times of peril, the ship’s foghorn serves as a warning. So, as a musician, you need to ask yourself: Do you want to be the foghorn or the band playing as the ship goes down? Both have musical significance. It’s a matter of understanding your position and choosing where you fit in.

Destiny

Many young people, whether artists or not, have this strange preconception that in order to become change-makers, they need to be this perfect actor; that they need to tick all the boxes. But all of us sitting in this room are pretty normal people who genuinely care about making a difference. I personally experience moments of self-doubt. But I really believe that if you truly care about something, the potential is there to work on a project or an exhibition or just anything that will be able to spark the change that you want to see in the world.

 

But it is important to allow yourself to feel empowered by recognizing the potential you possess. Because it’s so easy to fall into this spiral of not thinking that you’re good enough; not thinking that you can make a change. No great movement has ever started without a conversation. Sometimes it’s just as powerful to have two people talking and taking action within their local community as it is for those same two people, three decades later, to speak publicly about the same issues. It’s really a question of perspective and not necessarily putting too much stress and expectation on yourself. Simply acknowledging that you are enough and doing what you can is just as important.

A woman looks at a large black and white art installation at the Hayward Gallery.
Installation view of Hito Steyerl, Dear Earth: Art and Hope in a Time of Crisis (21 Jun –⁠ 3 Sep 2023). Photo: Mark Blower. Courtesy the Hayward Gallery.

Editor’s Note: This interview has been edited and condensed for purposes of length and clarity.


Photographs Courtesy of Hayward Gallery


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