Flora-Persona: “We are all related”

Artist Michael Gresalfi shares new artworks using leaves, seeds and other natural materials to produce zoomorphic or anthropomorphic masks and sculptures that echo our early ancestors and an approach to the world that recognises, “We are all related.”


1,560 words: estimated reading time = 6 minutes


I am excited by an artistic theme I have been pursuing these past months. I have named the series ‘Flora-Persona.’

Using only natural materials, including plants, trees and associated leaves and seeds, and avoiding the use of any manmade materials during the creative process (such as paints, adhesives, and dyes), I purposefully manipulate plants and other flora in a zoomorphic or anthropomorphic manner.

Relying solely on Nature’s bounty is an artistic departure for me in some ways, yet a continuum of my focus on addressing the rising environmental damage, including climate-related disruptions, which our industrialized world has wrought.

Inspired by my research in support of my painting entitled ‘Wood-Wide Web’ (which I previously presented on ClimateCultures in my post with Eva Strautmann), I became acutely aware of the ability of various tree and plant species, along with fungi, to communicate and share resources with one another in a symbiotic manner.

Showing ‘Wood-Wide Web’: 24″ x 30”, mixed media on used, repurposed canvas – oils, acrylics and melted wax. Artist: Michael Gresalfi © 2025
‘Wood-Wide Web’: 24″ x 30”, mixed media on used, repurposed canvas – oils, acrylics and melted wax. Artist: Michael Gresalfi © 2025

‘Wood-Wide Web’ portrays a forest, field, or meadow not merely as a collection of competing individuals in a shared location, but rather as an interconnected community where resource sharing and communication play a significant role in the health and resilience of the entire ecosystem.

Mitakuye Oyasin: we are all related

My research led me to read about the Mother Tree Project. This large-scale, decade-long research effort led by Dr. Suzanne Simard at the University of British Columbia, revealed that neighboring trees and plants are in communication with one another via an underground network of fungi that resembles the neural networks in our brains.

I was astonished to learn that in one study, Simard documented that a Douglas fir tree that was injured by insects appeared to send chemical warning signals to a Ponderosa pine tree growing nearby. The pine tree then produced enzymes to protect itself against the nearby insect invasion.

To me, a form of collective consciousness was in play within the web of life, across at least two Kingdoms. In biological taxonomy, life forms are organized into hierarchical groups: Kingdoms are at the top, with phylum, class, order, family, genus, and species being progressively lower tiers.  Fungi are in a separate Kingdom from trees and plants, yet they support one another in a mutually beneficial way.

Not so with respect to humanity, the alpha species in the Kingdom of Animalia. I began to see more clearly that we don’t support the interconnected web of life, and in fact we continue to disrupt the very symbiotic fabric that the wood-wide web illustrates.

During my daily walk in the woods behind my home, I began to consider more thoughtfully how alienated we all are from the natural world, and I began to ponder how a conscious wood-wide web of interconnected life that surrounds me might view humankind. Yes, not a comforting thought.

We are all related. Showing leaf art by Michael Gresalfi, 2026.
Art: Michael Gresalfi © 2026. A note on captions: I really hadn’t thought of specific captions for images of these works, seeing them more like an anthropological or archaeological ‘find’, where present-day humans have to surmise the intention of long-ago peoples when assessing disjointed remains of their social and cultural mores and beliefs.

The artistic concept of ‘Flora Persona’ formed slowly. My evolving viewpoint was also informed by a Lakota phrase, “Mitakuye Oyasin” (“We are all related”). The phrase expresses the idea that every living entity shares the same divine origin and life force, and that humanity is part of a complex reciprocal web of existence, rather than separate from, or superior to, nature.

My artistic interest was thus stimulated by both non-Western and ancient beliefs concerning the shared web of life and by my newfound understanding that plants and trees have some form of elementary consciousness, as demonstrated by their ability to communicate across species, genus, families, and all the way up the hierarchical groups, to include across the two noted Kingdoms.

Reaching back to our roots in art

Both climate and human culture, including artistic expression, have intersected in many ways throughout our species’ course of time. In this evolving series, I delve deeply into our ancient past for artistic inspiration. I suggest that we have been creating art across the various climate epochs we have inhabited, since times immemorial. I believe that both the flora and fauna available in long-ago times provided source materials used to create art, back into earlier hominin eras.

It is reasonable to assume that humans have been making art from biodegradable materials, including masks, figurines, and sculptures, for more than one hundred thousand years.

Masks and sculptures have been my primary focus to date. My artistic goal is to present man-manipulated natural elements in a manner that harkens back to our early ancestors.

With respect to cave paintings, the earliest known artistic expressions for both Homo sapiens and Neanderthals, consisting of non-figurative symbolic markings, are more than 70,000 years old. They are still in existence today, due to their isolation and protection from the weathering elements. Other art, made from natural materials and not contained within caves, clearly has not been preserved.

One of my flora-persona series interests is using burdock (Arctium lappa) seed heads to create extinct local animals that were plentiful in my region of Maryland, USA during the Woodland and Archaic Periods — such as the wooly mammoth and the cave bear. It is my contention that such natural materials were used to create art by these ancient native ancestors, and indeed perhaps as far back as our early hominin ancestors.

Burdock plant and collected seed heads, as well as a few examples of my ‘Burr Art ‘, are presented below:

Collected burdock seed heads. Photograph: Michael Gresalfi © 2026
We are all related. Showing burr art by Michael Gresalfi, 2026.
All art: Michael Gresalfi © 2026. See note above on captions.

Plant masks: viewing how our relatives might see us

With respect to making human-like faces from plant leaves, I was inspired to begin this Flora-Persona series when pondering the wood-wide web and, particularly, the nascent consciousness documented via chemical communication networks formed between fungi, plants, and trees.

These leaf masks are not necessarily made to be worn. Rather, they are meant to present these wonders of nature as a member of our distant family, aligned with the Lakota phrase “Mitakuye Oyasin”: we are all related.

I continue to experiment with different plants, seeds, leaves, and tree bark, all picked up along my daily walks in my neighboring Black Hill Park. I find myself drawn to creating leaf masks that present the viewer with an unsettled view of how we humans might be viewed by our distant plant relatives, such as displaying sorrow, shock, disappointment, and anger. These sentiments seem very proper to me, considering the continuing harm we cause to the interconnected web of life.

Below are three photos. The first shows how I applied juice to several of my leaf masks, a natural dye from ripe purple pokeweed berries that I had gathered.

American pokeweed (Phytolacca americana) is natively established in Maryland, and its berry juice served as a primary source of makeshift ink during the American Civil War. Art: Michael Gresalfi © 2026

The next is a photo of one of my framed leaf masks:

All art: Michael Gresalfi © 2026. See note above on captions

The final photos show a large 36” x 36” canvas I painted and then displayed, with four of my leaf masks within its four quadrants, followed by close-ups of the masks.

We are all related: Showing a36” x 36” canvas with four leaf masks. Art by Michael Gresalfi, 2026
36” x 36” canvas with four leaf masks. All art: Michael Gresalfi © 2026. See note above on captions.

Find more

From 2026, ClimateCultures is inviting members to say a sentence or two about how they use AI in their work and in their posts for us. We will be exploring this here and at our ClimateCultures & more Substack.

Michael — “I used Gemini AI as a background search tool — looking for other examples of both my ‘burr art’ and ‘leaf art.’ Frankly, not much out there — at least from my initial research.”

***

Michael adds: “A young friend from Scotland, after looking at my burr art, brought to my attention the annual ancient event called the ‘Burryman,’ which happened to occur mid-August. The Burryman is a centuries-old Scottish folk tradition where a local man is covered head-to-toe in thousands of sticky burdock burrs and paraded through the area.” Find more at Wikipedia.

You can see Michael’s work with fellow ClimateCultures member, artist Eva Strautmann, in their post The Wood Wide Web – Fruitful Collaboration, which features both artists’ paintings on the topic.

This piece for the Ecological Disciple by Lenore Three Stars, The Way Forward: Mitakuye Oyasi — A Worldview (11/6/26) explores the value of an approach to our shared world that starts from the position that “We are all related” (Mitakuye Oyasi can also mean “All my relations.”)

More on the Mother Tree Project, founded by Dr. Suzanne Simard, can be found at The Mother Tree Project & Program, a research and outreach initiative housed in UBC’s Faculty of Forestry & Environmental Stewardship, rooted in the idea that forests are deeply interconnected systems, not just collections of individual trees.

Michael Gresalfi
Michael Gresalfi
An artist who seeks to incorporate art with climate change data, and whose work in encaustic medium, glass paint, oils and acrylics includes 'Our Changing Planet'.

Protest Posters for the Earth!

Artist Michael Gresalfi explores the history of protest posters and their use for International Mother Earth Day (22nd April) through his own protest painting, “Replenish The Earth”. Michael invites fellow ClimateCultures members to share their Earth Month creations.


820 words: estimated reading time = 3.5 minutes


While Earth Month (and Earth Day) originated in the United States, it has become a massive global phenomenon. Today, it is recognized in over 193 countries, with approximately one billion people participating in environmental actions each April. In 2009, the UN officially designated April 22nd as ‘International Mother Earth Day.’ This solidified the April date as the primary global standard.

Earth Month needs artists like you

Artists of all mediums have engaged in this annual event through many different ways, including designing and then displaying ‘protest posters.’ From the broadsheets of the Reformation to the neon-soaked digital projections of today, protest posters have been used as a visual megaphone, and to get the message out in public forums to the people.

Legend says Martin Luther kicked things off by nailing his Ninety-Five Theses to a church door. Whether he used nails or glue, he effectively used the first ‘protest poster’ to challenge the most powerful institution in Europe, the Catholic Church and its Pope.

The Suffragettes were the first to master protest branding. They realized that for a movement to be taken seriously, it needed a cohesive look. They used purple (dignity), white (purity), and green (hope) on banners and sashes.

A golden age of protest posters

Perhaps the 1960s and 1970s might be considered the golden age of protest posters. Both the civil rights movement, and the anti-Vietnam war movement maximized the use of bold, artistic, and visceral protest posters and other forms of imagery for mass media consumption.

Here is a sample of those vintage environmental protest posters:

Showing examples of environmental protest posters.
Examples of environmental protest posters

The advent of the so called ‘digital revolution’ had a major impact on the universal growth of protest posters. This phenomenon was kick-started by the accessibility of personal computers, affordable color printers, and the Internet.

“Replenish The Earth” – a call to creative action

So, my fellow ClimateCultures members, what are you creating to share during Earth Month? For me, I enjoy creating environmental protest paintings. They tend to look more like posters and typically each one reflects upon a single environmental issue, although I have presented up to a dozen such paintings within a solo gallery show, under the title “Our Changing Planet.” If interested, you can view one of my science-subtitled slide shows on my website.

So, here we are, only a month away from April, and the start of Earth Month. I am busy creating new environmental protest paintings (my painted posters) and looking for opportunities to both share my work and hopefully stimulate others to draw on their own creative muse and engage in this fight for the very survival of our Blue Jewel, planet Earth!

Will you join me and others around the world and create and share your personal protest against one or more of the environmental wounds we humans have caused to our home in the stars?

Here is an Earth Day protest poster that I just completed, entitled “Replenish The Earth.”

Showing "Replenish the Earth", a protext poster paining by Michael Gresalfi (February 2026). Framed Canvas 23" x 17". Medium: Acrylics, melted wax, markers, and paper cut-outs on a used and repurposed canvas.
“Replenish the Earth” (February 2026). Framed Canvas 23″ x 17″. Medium: Acrylics, melted wax, markers, and paper cut-outs on a used and repurposed canvas. Michael Gresalfi © 2026.

This climate-focused protest painting frames the push by Elon Musk to populate Mars as an invasive distraction, arguing that our true mission is not to escape to a dead planet, but to honor and restore the interconnected, breathing cycle of life that flourishes on our home world.


Find more

From 2026, ClimateCultures is inviting members to say a sentence or two about how they use AI in their work and in their posts for us. We will be exploring this here and at our ClimateCultures & more Substack. For this post, Michael did not use AI. See The Wood Wide Web – Fruitful Collaboration for his use of AI in earlier post, and Eternal Forest Sanctuary: Vision to Living Commitment by Evgenia Emets for insights into her use of AI.

Earth Month runs throughout April. You can read about International Mother Earth Day, 22nd April 2026 at earthday.org, which includes an Earth Hub of resources. The site also covers previous years’ themes and campaigns, including Artists for the Earth last year. The 2025 theme continues this year: “Our Power, Our Planet”.

In Pictures: The Defiant Art of the Protest Poster by Figgy Guyver (Frieze, 2019) reviews Joanne Ripon’s book, The Art of Protest (Gemini Books, 2019), published with Amnesty International, and showing how protest posters have changed throughout history. The article is illustrated with several examples. And Orion Magazine’s Posters for the Planet piece (October 2022) features examples from the Princeton Architectural Press book, Posters for the Planet – Tear, Paste, Protest: 50 Reusable and Recyclable Posters.

ClimateCultures featured Michael’s science-subtitled video of “Our Changing Planet”, his exhibition of protest paintings, in our Creative Showcase.

Michael Gresalfi
Michael Gresalfi
An artist who seeks to incorporate art with climate change data, and whose work in encaustic medium, glass paint, oils and acrylics includes 'Our Changing Planet'.

Ancient Woodland — A Celebration of Place

Mary Waltham introduces her and fellow artist Jackie Amies’ joint exhibition on their local ancient woodland. Their art invites our curiosity about these rare, ecologically rich areas, which have been largely untouched by human activity since before 1600.


2,150 words: estimated reading time = 8.5 minutes


I can never remember a time in my life when I did not prefer to be outside rather than inside. Growing up on a farm, in a small village in Dorset, the open spaces outdoors in all seasons were my habitat — woods, fields, streams, and ponds. In the past there was much greater human involvement and familiarity with the natural world and I have been fortunate to experience that when young and now, in later life. It enlarges my sense of the world and gives me simple joy. Living now in Selborne, Hampshire and spending large chunks of time walking means that inevitably I am drawn to ancient woodland. Our cottage is 200 yards as the crow flies from Selborne Hanger, an iconic East Hampshire ancient woodland.

Context: Where is Selborne Hanger?

Excerpts from Selborne Local Landscape Character Assessment (2014) are included here to clarify the position of the site.

“Selborne Hanger lies above the village of Selborne in Hampshire. At its apex the Hanger is one of the highest points in Hampshire, 211 metres (692 ft) above sea level. In the image, contour lines are at 10m intervals. The summit and steep escarpment are covered by woods, dropping abruptly to the fields above Selborne.

"The name Hanger comes from the Old English word Hang’r, meaning a steeply wooded slope.

"From any direction, it is Selborne Hanger that commands first attention; the village being hidden from view, nestling some 85 metres below the ridge of the Chalk Scarp.

"The village and its Hanger are synonymous. When inside the village, the Hanger always feels present.”1

Gilbert White described this place in 1789:

“The soils of this district are almost as various and diversified as the views and aspects. The high part to the south-west consists of a vast hill of chalk, rising three hundred feet above the village; and is divided into a sheep down, the high wood, and a long hanging wood called the Hanger. The covert of this eminence is altogether beech, the most lovely of all forest trees, whether we consider its smooth rind or bark, its glossy foliage, or graceful pendulous boughs. The down, or sheep-walk, is a pleasing park-like spot, of about one mile by half that space, jutting out on the verge of the hill-country, where it begins to break down into the plains, and commanding a very engaging view, being an assemblage of hill, dale, wood-lands, heath, and water.”

— Gilbert White, The Natural History of Selborne (1789)2

In hindsight, I was slow to engage fully and in depth with the significance of ancient woodland that Selborne Hanger and several surrounding areas exuberantly typify. So often when working in London at a demanding role as an executive in fast-paced magazine publishing, I would walk into the Hanger for a break from analysis. Yet always there was this sense of place, including curiosity about all the species that had gone before me. Who were they, what were they doing in the wood and on the Common, and would they recognise it now? I believe so.

“The experience of place and the significance of a sense of place, has never seemed to me simply a matter of sentiment or feeling, but to be something much deeper and more profound.”

— Jeff Malpas, Heidegger and the Thinking of Place (2017)3

In recent years as my art practice developed, I met Jackie Amies, another local artist and keen walker who came to an Open Studio I hosted. In the summer of 2024 we began a conversation about making work for a joint exhibition, and we started to cast around for themes that we could both respond to with enthusiasm.

The result was our exhibition Ancient Woodland: A Celebration of Place at the Allen Gallery in Alton, Hampshire. While each of our art practices continues to develop in appreciation of and response to a variety of habitats close at hand in Hampshire, downlands, wetlands, rivers and chalk streams, for example, why did we choose ancient woodland for this, our first exhibition together?

Showing 'Ancient Woodland: A Celebration of Place' by Mary Waltham & Jackie Amies, an exhibition at Allen Gallery, Alton 2025. Photograph by Seamus Flanagan 2025
‘Ancient Woodland: A Celebration of Place’ by Mary Waltham & Jackie Amies, exhibition at Allen Gallery, Alton 2025. Photograph: Seamus Flanagan © 2025
Showing 'Ancient Woodland: A Celebration of Place' by Mary Waltham & Jackie Amies, exhibition at Allen Gallery, Alton 2025. Photograph by Seamus Flanagan 2025
‘Ancient Woodland: A Celebration of Place’ by Mary Waltham & Jackie Amies, exhibition at Allen Gallery, Alton 2025. Photograph: Seamus Flanagan © 2025

Ancient woodland — rich fragments of beauty

Despite best efforts to support and encourage these woodlands to thrive, they are consistently under pressure for development and, of course, from continuing assaults by a range of rapidly evolving tree diseases — such as ash dieback — that are further enabled by a warmer climate year-round. We set out to explore and raise awareness of the many dimensions of beauty of ancient woodland from our own perspectives.

Natural England has an inventory of all 52,000 ancient woodland sites across the UK as an online map.4 Looking at the whole map it is clear that many, even most, of the sites are small, fragmented pockets.

And yet, according to the Woodland Trust, “Ancient woods are our richest and most complex terrestrial habitat in the UK and they are home to more threatened species than any other. Centuries of undisturbed soils and accumulated decaying wood have created the perfect place for communities of fungi and invertebrates and specialist species of insects, birds and mammals.”5

What is ‘ancient woodland’? It is distinctive and often small tracts of woodland that have been largely untouched by humans since before 1600, and now cover just 2.5% of the UK.

Ancient woods are therefore also a continuing record of centuries of interaction and interdependence between man and woodland, often containing remnants of archaeological features such as wood banks, pits and charcoal kilns.

Ancient woodland is an immensely rich and complex area for exploration scientifically, culturally and artistically. Both Jackie and I feel as though we have only just begun!

Our exhibition invites visitors to the Allen Gallery to be curious about these rare and special areas we are fortunate enough to have access to.

We have used traditional media of paint, fine-art printmaking and photography, but with a twist. Paintings made with soil, and new ways to discover trees are among the interpretations. A gentle woodland soundscape accompanies visitors; we wanted people to have an immersive experience once in the gallery.

A sense of place in art

Jackie is exhibiting fine art prints that focus on trees. How many of us can identify trees from their leaves or bark? A series of twelve monoprints of ancient woodland tree leaves entitled ‘Foliate’ refreshes that lost skill.

Showing 'Foliate' series of artworks by Jackie Amies, in exhibition at Allen Gallery.
‘Foliate’ series, in exhibition, Allen Gallery, Alton. Artworks & photograph: Jackie Amies © 2025

As does ‘Barking’, a series of tree bark etchings over a coloured lino print. The printed backgrounds are an interpretation of the colours found either in the bark, within the wood or the changing leaf colours.

‘Barking – Field Maple’, by Jackie Amies. Photograph: Jackie Amies © 2025

The mystery of ancient woodland is evoked by the series ‘Rooted’, twelve unique monotypes inspired by a year of walking at Ashford Hanger. Each piece draws the viewer into the steep chalk slopes of the East Hampshire Hangers to gnarled wood, undercut roots and animal paths heading off between majestic mature tree trunks; a world rich in an abundance of life.

‘Rooted X’ by Jackie Amies. Photograph: Jackie Amies © 2025

Painting is my primary medium for this exhibition. I have been working with soil as a paint for the six pieces in the series ‘Ground’, using earth and ash as pigment. The pieces reveal and elevate the aesthetic qualities of ancient woodland soil through their intense colours and textures. As alternative portraits of place, the six Selborne Hanger soil paintings allow the site to speak for itself. They directly reflect the history, the climate and the variety of soils that cover the Hanger.

Showing: 'Ground 1' by Mary Waltham, from the series, Soils of local Ancient Woodland
‘Ground 1’, Mary Waltham: Soils of local Ancient Woodland, 2025.
“... the soil of any one place makes its own peculiar and inevitable sense. It is impossible to contemplate the life of the soil for very long without seeing it as analogous to the life of the spirit.” (Berry, 1977)6

“Soil, like fossil fuels took eons to develop and it too cannot be replaced…By giving soil its own agency it is elevated to an aesthetic form.” (Waltham, 2022a)7
‘Ground 2’, Mary Waltham: Soils of local Ancient Woodland, 2025.

Soil affects everything that grows in and on it and these woodlands are home to communities of plants that thrive here where the earth is undisturbed and rich in decaying matter. Varied ground flora is a striking feature of ancient woodlands, distinguishing them from recently established woods and plantations. Many of the so-called indicator species of plants in ancient woodland flower in Spring before deciduous trees are leafed out. I am showing eight paintings of such spring flowers using watercolour layers for the series ‘Flos sylva’.

Showing: 'Bluebells', from 'Flos sylva' by Mary Waltham 2025
‘Bluebells’, from ‘Flos sylva’ by Mary Waltham. Photograph: Mary Waltham © 2025

My series of small watercolour paintings mounted on cradled birch panel reflects abstract fleeting views experienced while walking the Hangers Way, a long-distance route that runs south from Alton to join the South Downs Way.8 This footpath is a good way to encounter ancient woodland, to absorb a sense of the many who have passed here before us, the sound of many species, and if you are fortunate the melody of place. Witnesses all.

Showing: 'Hangers Way', three from the series, watercolour on cradled birch panel, by Mary Waltham 2025. Photograph: Seamus Flanagan © 2025
‘Hangers Way’, three from the series, watercolour on cradled birch panel, by Mary Waltham 2025. Photograph: Seamus Flanagan © 2025

Celebrating the local

To help orientate visitors, in the gallery we have a large-scale map of the patches of local ancient woodland we each have frequently visited and worked from, notably Selborne (top of map) and Ashford Hanger bottom).

Showing Patches of local ancient woodland in East Hampshire, from Natural England's online map of Ancient Woodland.
Patches of local ancient woodland in East Hampshire, from Natural England’s online map of Ancient Woodland.

Just outside the gallery, in the small garden, is an installation of a piece of mossy rotting wood with leaf litter. A reference to Neukom Vivarium (2006) from Mark Dion, who says of his work: “So, this isn’t really about the tree, even though the tree is the superstar. It’s really about what’s happening to the tree, about the process of decay…. the wonder of the vast complexity and diversity within a natural system”.9

The log is positioned at just the right height for a 7-year-old to look closely and spot all the life teeming on the log through the richness of decay.

A small café at Allen Gallery is the setting for ‘A Celebration of Place’, a series of forty vibrant photographs taken on-site by the artists. These are exquisite reminders of place and a further invitation to find and visit ancient woodland, and to really look.

Showing 'A celebration of place', forty pieces installed in the cafe at the Allen gallery. Photograph by Seamus Flanagan 2025
‘A celebration of place’, forty pieces installed in the cafe at the Allen gallery. Photograph: Seamus Flanagan © 2025

Our work on ancient woodland is anchored and guided by generous expert advice from two lifelong landscape professionals who have worked extensively in stewardship and management roles in these woodlands. Chris Webb and David Ball have been in on this exploration of place by me and Jackie from the beginning, providing both of us with essential knowledge, their experience, and facts that have enabled us to feel confident about the truths we present. Any errors of interpretation are entirely our own.

We hope that one outcome from our show is increased understanding of the importance of rare and special ancient woodland.

Responses from visitors have been positive and encouraging – always a plus:

“What an inspiring celebration of place. I have learnt to look at a familiar landscape in an entirely new way”

“A beautiful exhibition to stumble upon. A highlight of my trip to this gorgeous county”

“We loved the birch panel artwork and the moody monoprints. We also enjoyed hearing the birdsong in the gallery as we enjoyed the art. Thank you.”

“Love the birdsong! Inspiring works – love the way the soils are ageing, and the ‘Hangers Way’ watercolour works are enchanting. Thank you.”


Mary’s references:

  1. Selborne Local Landscape Character Assessment (2014)
  2. Gilbert White (1789) The Natural History of Selborne (2006 Penguin Classics edition, edited by Richard Mabey.)
  3. Jeff Malpas (2017) Heidegger and the Thinking of Place: Explorations in the Topology of Being (The MIT Press).
  4. Natural England, Ancient Woodland (England) online map.
  5. Woodland Trust, ancient woodland as one of the many woodland and related habitats across the UK.
  6. Wendell Berry (1977) The Unsettling of America: Culture and Agriculture (Counterpoint).
  7. Mary Waltham (2022a) Case Study: Daro Montag and This Earth. Unpublished.
  8. The Hangers Way, Hampshire.
  9. In this Art 21 interview, “Neukom Vivarium”, Mark Dion discusses his 2006 installation.

Find more

Mary and Jackie’s exhibition Ancient Woodland: A Celebration of Place is on view at the Allen Gallery in Alton, Hampshire until 20th September 2025. There is a free event, Why Ancient Woodland? In Conversation with the Artists, on Saturday 13th September (limited spaces: booking essential).

Mary Waltham
Mary Waltham
An artist whose work reflects a powerful interest in and curiosity about expressing the fragility of our environment through the eyes of both scientist and artist ...

When Mr Jones … On the Artist, Responsibility & Linear Thinking

Citizen artist Yky challenges fellow artists to consider their roles and responsibilities, alongside those of scientific experts, in how their art engages audiences and other citizens to overcome linear thinking in questions of urban resilience and social complexity.


1,110 words: estimated reading time = approximately 4.5 minutes


When Mr. Jones realised what time it was, he knew he would be late for the opening of his exhibition. He spent the journey thinking up excuses he could give. But none of them seemed very credible, and he arrived at the gallery feeling somewhat apprehensive.

Upon arrival, he found the atmosphere rather festive and wasn’t sure whether to feel offended or comforted by the fact that no one seemed to care about his tardiness. In one room of the gallery, a guest was looking at one of his works with a puzzled expression. The owner of the premises seemed to be ignoring him, so Mr. Jones felt obliged to introduce himself and was then asked the question we have heard so often: «But what did you mean by this work?» Mr. Jones replied with something we have also heard so often: “My goodness, it’s certainly not up to me to tell you what to think. Everyone is entitled to feel what they want.”

The art & the message 

Dear readers of ClimateCultures, rest assured, Mr. Jones — who could just as easily have been called Monsieur Dupont or Herr Schmidt — serves only to make us reflect on the paradox of certain artists who consider that their work must be sociologically significant while refusing to consider the objective dimension necessary for understanding their message. For if there is one point on which everyone should agree, it is on the growing complexity of the social model we all wish for.

Let us be clear. Feelings, emotions, and everything that words cannot express obviously contribute to the very essence of the artistic process. And nothing should prevent or challenge this. But if an artist wishes to use his or her talent to work on complex subjects such as sustainability or urban resilience, then they acquire, whether they like it or not, a responsibility towards the community. From that point on, understanding the message that accompanies the artistic process becomes all the more important. And to paraphrase Emmanuel Levinas in his wonderful concept of alterity, “When the Other looks at my work, whether I like it or not, whether I want it or not, the simple fact that He looks at my work makes me accountable to Him.”

During the ‘Art of Resilience’ exhibition at the World Bank in Washington, D.C. [1], I reiterated in one of the opening speeches the importance of our responsibility in addressing the challenges we face, and considered how we can facilitate dialogue between artists, scientists and ‘non-expert citizens’. In this regard, a fictional narrative can be a powerful tool for sharing ideas and connecting with urban citizens while contextualising the pedagogical process.

Shakes, a diptych: D0 and D+ Artist: Yky © 2018

Those who are interested can find more information in a previous post I published on ClimateCultures — see the note below.

Resilience & the problem of linear thinking

Beyond the concept of resilience thinking [2], what is striking is the gap between the interest that many artists have in topics such as sustainability or urban resilience and their understanding of what defines these topics. It is almost as if this interest were sufficient in itself. But understanding why and how linear thinking impacts our ability to invent a more resilient way of life is essential.

Rooted in the legacy of the Enlightenment, linear thinking has enabled a scientific revolution that we benefit from today. But at the same time, this rationality, this thinking based on the idea that the world is governed by universal laws and that nature is only meant to be domesticated, hinders our ability to develop unconventional societal models. So how can we move from ‘bouncing back’ to ‘bouncing forward,’ a key condition for urban resilience?

In the recent history of scientific research, one of the most important advances in breaking free from linear thinking was proposed by C.S. Holling [3], one of the founders of ecological resilience. With his theory of panarchy, he introduced the idea that not only are social and ecological systems interconnected, but they also restructure and renew themselves in response to their environment.

That said, I can already hear the arguments of some artists who believe that scientists are responsible for getting the message across. But many scientists do recognise that they are unable to communicate effectively to ‘non-expert citizens’ and that art is a powerful vehicle for communication. It is up to artists and scientists to leave their comfort zones in view of their collective responsibility.

Interestingly, challenging linear thinking is not solely a scientific endeavour. Isn’t that what Kandinsky did with his early compositions, introducing lines and colours with intrinsic value rather than mere representations of external forms? [4]

As Mr. Jones made his way back home, he reflected on the recent conversation he had had. He had no reason to feel uncomfortable, and yet a sense of helplessness overwhelmed him. The idea that a neo-liberal environment could affect our sociability suddenly frightened him. He wished he could help to promote new behaviours built on the sense of care. He wondered whether his artistic skill could, in some way, contribute to improving our well-being. Without really understanding why, Mr. Jones was overcome by a feeling of vulnerability. He would have liked to discuss it with other artists.

Linear thinking: Showing an image by Yky of Le Havre's seaside, France, (Argentic paper, print size 60 x 40 cm), where the reflections in pieces of broken mirror refer to our vulnerability, and the silver paper frame, darkening over time, to that of uncertainty.
Le Havre’s seaside, France, (Argentic paper, print size 60 x 40 cm): Photograph 2023 © Yky. The reflections in pieces of broken mirror refer to our vulnerability, and the silver paper frame, darkening over time, to that of uncertainty.

***

Yky adds: I hope this post can lead to challenging talks with other artists on ‘our’ collective responsibility and the way it should be implemented, along with scientists. A good example of bouncing forward and non-linear thinking.


Find more

  1. The Art of Resilience – exhibition catalogue (World Bank, 2019)
  2. Art, a pedagogic tool for urban resilience (at Yky’s Picturing Urban Resilience website)
  3. Panarchy: ripples of a boundary concept (Rocha, Luvuno, Rieb, et al, 2022: Ecoplogy & Society 27(3):21)
  4. Bouncing forward with abstraction (at Yky’s Picturing Urban Resilience website)

You can read Yky’s earlier ClimateCultures post, Urban Resilience? Art, the Missing Link, where he shares Shakes, his work featured in the World Bank’s The Art of Resilience exhibition, and a fictional encounter between the artist, a resilience expert and two citizens to discuss the role of artist and scientist. And in The Art of Reimagining Managed Retreat, he shares ideas and artworks he presented to an international conference addressing scientific, social, and governance issues around ‘managed retreat’.

Yky
Yky
A citizen artist exploring urban resilience whose photographic works use silver paper's response to light to highlight the challenges raised by climate hazards in urban spaces.

Solidarity in Place: The Hokianga Community Drawing Project

Ecological artist and researcher Laura Donkers reflects on community drawing approaches to uncovering shared emotional connections and promoting dialogue about ‘home’ as ‘place’ and ‘process’ — both aspects impacted by human-caused climate change, ecological breakdown, and biodiversity loss.


1,450 words: estimated reading time = 5.5 minutes


We consider this vibrant, beautiful, and resilient living world as our home: yet the impacts of human-caused climate change and ecological breakdown challenge this concept. While we witness these impacts on the daily news or experience it for ourselves there is an urgency to explore the emotional experiences involved in facing the climate crisis and a need for exchange and dialogue to generate new connections and understanding across peoples and cultures. Climate change forces us to reflect on how we are living and the intrinsic link to wider social issues of housing, environmental degradation, access to public services and poverty that is causing a re-envisioning of the concept of home as both as a process and a territory.

In these challenging times, art can help to focus perspectives on uncertainty about living in places that are changing, offering forms of connection that complement, challenge, and expand understanding. Socially engaged approaches especially offer unique opportunities to share that can help people process complex emotional experiences, and establish ways to imagine and act together.

For example, participatory drawing offers the participant a visual form of ‘being heard’ that can create insights into place between the people who live there, and also present different world views as a visual conversation. It provides a way to unpack assumptions about the emotional demands of the climate crisis by focusing on situated, localised and personal experiences towards developing shared emotional connection.

Showing First marks, Women's Health event. Photo by Laura Donkers 2023
First marks, Women’s Health event. Photo: Laura Donkers © 2023

Place and process — community drawing for home

In November 2023, the Hokianga Community Drawing Project deployed the creative agency of collective drawing to achieve a non-textual rendition of how the climate crisis is affecting communities located to the north and south of the Hokianga ferry link in Northland, Aotearoa New Zealand. This drawing project was delivered in the historic town of Rawene during a four-week artist residency, with the aim of uncovering lived experience connections between people, place and location at a time of climate crisis.

I delivered the project as a series of street-based workshops held at public events, community galleries, used-book sales and produce markets. The workshops made use of very simple materials which were safe to handle and durable enough to withstand the rigours of the workshop environment. These were a primed canvas roll (10m x 1.5m) and home-made charcoal from the local mangrove trees. This local material proved to be a most valuable instrument for initiating discussion on climate change. Mangrove trees typify Northland’s inter-tidal zones. They provide important habitat for unique biodiversity. They have an unequalled ability to buffer coastal erosion and storm surges and have great capacity for carbon capture and storage. However, their cultural significance in Māori allegory regarding their mana (prestige and power) as ancestors encapsulating the hau (essence) of the location proved to be an important contribution to the successful delivery of the project.

Showing Mangrove at Rawene. Photo ny Laura Donkers 2023
Mangrove at Rawene. Photo: Laura Donkers © 2023

On arriving in Rawene to undertake the residency, I had yet to comprehend the reality of being a ‘white, European stranger’ in a Māori dominated community and how this would hamper my attempts to engage with local level social institutions such as schools and environmental and political groups. Sadly, all my communications with schools and environmental organisations, initiated months before, were either rejected or remained unanswered. The uncomfortable issue of my temporary presence in the community pivoted around whether I had any right to be in this land and the correlation between my own comfortable life and the dispossession of Māori from their land and culture. Building good relationships to be seen as a trusted and valued visitor would require much longer than the four-week timescale available to me. However, as meeting the community through local institutions was not possible, a small paradigmatic shift that I could make was to open the project up to any level of community interaction by moving my drawing project onto the street. Despite my fear of rejection, this is where the project was able to encounter the very people who wanted to engage, share and exchange their experiences and perspectives.

Showing Drawing workshop on the street outside Village Arts, Kohukohu, Northland. Photo by Laura Donkers 2023
Drawing workshop on the street outside Village Arts, Kohukohu, Northland. Photo: Laura Donkers © 2023

In terms of evoking connection to the Hokianga landscape I used imagery of the Mangrove as a key compositional frame to help participants feel their way into contributing towards the visual, collective terrain of the drawing. I invited passersby to contribute a drawing or even just some marks if they expressed doubts about their drawing skills. These invitations to contribute were mostly accepted and had cumulative impact as participants displayed the simplicity and openness of the activity to onlookers who quickly wanted to join in. This process induced the creation of a collective visual record of significance and meaning through personal, shared perspectives of daily life in the Hokianga.

Showing Drawing workshop at No1 Parnell Gallery, Rawene. Photo by Denis Orme 2023
Drawing workshop at No1 Parnell Gallery, Rawene. Photo: Denis Orme © 2023
Showing Drawing in progress. Photos by Laura Donkers 2023
Drawing in progress. Photos: Laura Donkers © 2023

Drawing connections — art and dialogue 

Collaborative drawing projects produce documentary evidence that can stand in solidarity with people and help their voices to be heard, amplified and validated as worth listening to. It can be a form of visual testimony for the public to connect with as a vision of insight, knowledge and experience of climate change that is both personal and universal.

Lived experience as a foundation for drawing captures what has been sensed, felt, thought about and performed. I wanted this project to open up capacity and dialogic potential so that people would reflect on the impacts that locally experienced extreme weather events might be having on their property, travel plans, infrastructure, supply chains and livelihoods.

Showing the ompleted drawing at The Church, Rawene. Photo by Laura Donkers 2023
Completed drawing at The Church, Rawene. Photo: Laura Donkers © 2023

While creative projects in themselves cannot alter the impacts of environmental and ecological destruction, they can do two important things. Firstly, they can help to uncover shared emotional connections, and, secondly, they can promote dialogue with different people, especially those who either do not usually comment or are not motivated to speak out and protest environmental calamity and injustice.

Reflections

I had devised this project with the intentions of discovering how people were understanding and responding to the emotional and physical impacts of the climate crisis. Creative public engagement traverses sensitive emotional territory that I felt would need professional input. I had therefore sought support from a range of local organisations with direct connections to the community, such as schools and environmental organisations, thinking that they would welcome me. Yet, reluctance from these organisations to engage with me at any level left me with no choice but to meet the community as a lone practitioner. Surprisingly, this situation seemed to create just the right conditions for encountering the very people who would normally shy away from sharing their personal experiences. Engagement through drawing overcame the usual uncertainty and reluctance to contribute that ultimately facilitated dialogue between us.

I also benefitted from this learning experience as a reminder to ‘trust the process’, but it wasn’t easy. I found myself questioning Why I had wanted to come into this community? and What did I think I could contribute with this work? Over the weeks as I walked between venues carrying the drawing, it was sobering and humbling to develop an understanding that I, the stranger, was carrying the hopes, fears, dreams and wishes of this community on my shoulders. It was the drawing, rather than I, that was the interlocutor.

The finished drawing disclosed a collective visual expression of home by the community, who navigated bicultural differences to uncover solidarity, appreciation and respect for the diverse cultural identities amongst them. It also achieved a restorative function through shared emotional connection to location, place and community expressed through the medium of collective drawing. I hope too that it also reveals some of the complexities of the Hokianga as a spiritual, visceral, domestic, cosmological, ancestral and protected place as I had sensed and savoured it during my sojourn there.

Showing Laura Donkers carrying the completed Hokianga Community Drawing on the Kohu Ra Tuarua vehicle ferry between Rawene and the Narrows. Photograph: Pania Greene © 2023
Laura Donkers carrying the completed Hokianga Community Drawing on the Kohu Ra Tuarua vehicle ferry between Rawene and the Narrows. Photograph: Pania Greene © 2023

Find more

You can read Laura’s full account of the project via the link at The Hokianga Community Drawing Project page on her website.

Her paper The Hokianga Community Drawing Project: te ao hurihuri (at the end of the beginning) appears in e-publication Drawing Conversations 5: What and Where is Home? edited by Greig Burgoyne and Jill Journeaux.

You can read Laura’s previous ClimateCultures posts on her eco-social arts practice, including ‘What You Need Will Come to You’, where she introduces how her experience in Aotearoa New Zealand helped her explore Kaupapa Māori approaches.

Laura Donkers
Laura Donkers
An ecological artist and researcher connecting people with ecology through community projects and outdoor art workshops to inform more creative and sustainable ways to live.