Daily Dispatch

Eco-activists’ art attacks ask us to figure out what we value in the world

Motivation of these actions at public galleries is to draw attention to climate crisis and necessity to save planet

- SALLY HICKSON • Sally Hickson is associate professor of art history at the University of Guelph

In the past few weeks, climate change activists have perpetrate­d various acts of reversible vandalism against famous works of art in public galleries.

In one incident on October 27, two men entered the Mauritshui­s gallery in The Hague. After taking off their jackets to reveal T-shirts printed with anti-oil slogans, one proceeded to glue his head to the glass over Johannes Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring, while the other bathed the head of his partnerin-crime with what appeared to be tinned tomatoes before gluing his own hand to the wall adjacent to the painting.

This was just the latest in a series of similar art attacks that have peppered the news.

The motivation of the ecoactivis­ts involved is to draw attention to the crisis of climate change, the role of big oil in hastening the deteriorat­ion of the environmen­t and the necessity to save our planet.

By attacking a famous and high-value cultural target like Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring

it even starred in its own movie the protesters are asking us to examine our values.

The first Vermeer painting to come to auction for almost 80 years sold for almost $40m (R694.22m) in 2004.

Today a Vermeer (there are not that many) could easily be valued at twice that. Whether you like Vermeer or not, the monetary value of the targets under attack enhances the sheer audacity and shock value of the art attacks.

The eco-activists want to appear to desecrate something that people associate with value and with culture. Their point is that if we don’t have a planet, we’ll lose all the things in it that we seem to value more.

As activist Phoebe Plummer of Just Stop Oil told NPR after being involved in the attack on Van Gogh’s Sunflowers at London’s National Gallery: “Since October, we have been engaging in disruptive acts all around London because right now what is missing to make this change is political will.

“So our action in particular was a media-grabbing action to get people talking, not just about what we did, but why we did it.”

Note, the idea is disruption, not destructio­n. As acts designed for shock value, the activists did draw immediate public attention.

By staging their attacks in public galleries, where the majority of visitors carry cellphones, activists could be assured film and photos of the incidents would draw immediate attention.

By sticking to non-corrosive substances and trying to prevent damage to the works under attack, they don’t draw the kind of public ire that wilful destructio­n would evoke.

In recent news, attacking art as a form of public protest has largely been limited to public monuments outside the gallery space, like the destructio­n and removal of Confederat­e or colonial statues.

But it’s also true that works of museum art have come under attack before.

Over the course of its history,

Rembrandt’s Night Watch in the Rijksmuseu­m in Amsterdam was stabbed in two separate incidents in 1911 and 1975; in 1990, it was sprayed with acid; but all of those attacks were ascribed to individual­s with unclear and less clearly rational motives.

I see a few issues at stake with assessing what these recent art attacks could mean.

The activists have been articulate about their objectives, but those objectives haven’t been obvious to everyone who sees the attacks via social media, but doesn’t stick around to hear the explanatio­n.

When a broad range of media outlets all perceive the need to publish editorials on why ecoactivis­ts are targeting art, something is getting lost in translatio­n.

People see the endangerme­nt of the works of art, but may ascribe that to the activists, not to the planetary erosion wrought by climate change. I don’t think everyone is getting the message.

The incidents up until now have been pretty effective and harmless acts. But what if something is irreparabl­y damaged?

People will be outraged, but they’ll still be outraged about the art, not about the planet.

And though there will be a call for stiff prison sentences, precedent suggests that’s an unlikely outcome.

A man who damaged a Picasso valued at $26m (R451.27m) at the Tate Modern in London in 2020 was sentenced to 18 months in jail.

The third effect is what I consider a violation of the public trust, and this gives me pause. Works of art, even the most famous ones, lead precarious lives of constant endangerme­nt

from war, weather, fire and floods.

The protesters are destabilis­ing the idea that public galleries are “safe” spaces for works of art, held in public trust.

As Fari Nzinga, inaugural curator of academic engagement and special projects at the Speed Art Museum in Louisville, Kentucky, pointed out in a 2016 paper: “The museum doesn’t serve the public trust simply by displaying art for its members, it does so by keeping and caring for the art on behalf of a greater community of members and non-members alike, preserving it for future generation­s to study and enjoy.”

Right now these acts, no matter how well-intentione­d, could lead to increased security and more limited access, making galleries prisons for art rather than places for people.

At the same time, part of the activists’ point is that economy that sustains big oil is entwined with arts infrastruc­ture and the art market.

The pandemic taught us, I think, that art could be the thing we share that saves us; think of people during quarantine in Italy singing opera together from their balconies.

Eco-activists engaged in performanc­e protests ask us to question our public institutio­ns; they make us accountabl­e for what they, and we, value.

Their climate activism is dedicated to our shared fate.

If you’re willing to fight for the protection of art, maybe you’re willing to fight to protect the planet? — The Conversati­on

Our action in particular was a media-grabbing action to get people talking, not just about what we did, but why we did it

The museum doesn’t serve the public trust simply by displaying art for its members, it does so by keeping and caring for the art on behalf of a greater community

 ?? Picture: GETTY IMAGES / MICHEL PORRO ?? SHOCK: A journalist takes a photo of Johannes Vermeer's ‘Girl with a Pearl Earring’ in the Vermeer Room in the Mauritshui­s Museum in The Hague, Netherland­s. On October 27, a man wearing a T-shirt printed with anti-oil slogans glued his head to the glass protecting the painting. Another activist glued his own hand to the wall adjacent to the painting.
Picture: GETTY IMAGES / MICHEL PORRO SHOCK: A journalist takes a photo of Johannes Vermeer's ‘Girl with a Pearl Earring’ in the Vermeer Room in the Mauritshui­s Museum in The Hague, Netherland­s. On October 27, a man wearing a T-shirt printed with anti-oil slogans glued his head to the glass protecting the painting. Another activist glued his own hand to the wall adjacent to the painting.
 ?? Picture: GETTY IMAGES ?? ATTACK: A Just Stop Oil activist is arrested after Van Gogh's ‘Sunflowers’ had soup thrown on it at the National Portrait Gallery in London.
Picture: GETTY IMAGES ATTACK: A Just Stop Oil activist is arrested after Van Gogh's ‘Sunflowers’ had soup thrown on it at the National Portrait Gallery in London.

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