Gaze
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now. . .
(Gerard Manley Hopkins, “God’s Grandeur”)
ON A recent visit to Tate Modern, I quite literally walked into a work of art: Brain Forest Quipu — Poems in Space, an installation in sculpture and sound by the Chilean poet and artist Cecilia Vicuña. As I walked through a forest of fragile “trees” — long strips of grey/white muslin, suspended from the high roof, and trembling in the air-currents wafting through the vast Turbine Hall — I became aware that I had entered a curiously lifeless, colourless zone, unsettling and eerie.
There was no living green in this forest, and the wordless “poems in space” hanging were little more than shadowy shapes: knotted strings and ropes, whitish woven fabrics, scraps of wool, bleached tree-bark, plant fibres, and animal bones and skins. Indigenous South American music was being played against a background of sounds from the natural world: gusting wind, the “plop” of heavy raindrops, water flowing, the mournful howl of wolves, distant bird calls.
I felt as if I had been transported into another universe — desolate, ghostly, dying. It was only later that I learned what quipu were, but I had already experienced their power.
Five thousand years ago, the Incas, who ruled the scattered cultures of the Andes, did not communicate through written words. Instead, they devised a symbolic language, creating abstract sculptures to spread news, record memories, and count. To do this, they used knots (quipu) and a system of sightlines (ceque), making them clearly visible by suspending them from trees, plants, and overhanging rocks.
Quipu were banned after the European conquest of South America, and thousands of them were burned to ashes. The local people, forced to abandon their ancient system of communication (considered by the invaders to be pre-literate), were introduced to European writing and numerals. Gradually, they learned to speak and write in the languages of their conquerors — Spanish or Portuguese — which they do to this day.
But it seems that the symbolic dimension of the quipu did not die, and the vision of passing on news and information through creative artefacts is alive and well. Vicuña is a living proof of this, as she re-interprets the quipu and, in doing so, communicates a powerful message for our time.
Through her strangely beautiful and poignant artwork (on display until 16 April), she communicates a wordless message: tread gently on the earth, respect it, and care for it, or the fragile bio-diverse environment of our planet will be lost to future generations of humans, animals, and other living things. By reviving an ancient Andean custom, Vicuña quietly intones a lament for a dying planet.
Consider
O if we but knew what we do
When we delve or hew —
Hack and rack the growing green!
(Gerard Manley Hopkins, “Binsey Poplars”)
VICUÑA invites us to gaze at the world around us, to look and see what is happening there. The artistic vision behind Brain Forest Quipu summons its audience to participate in a wider conversation on the climate emergency, and to take time to consider its symptoms and causes.
That wider conversation had, of course, been initiated long ago by scientists (especially ecologists), philosophers, poets, and theologians; 2015, however, marked an important step on the path towards a more open and universal recognition of the fragility of the environment when another South American, Pope Francis, brought the climate emergency unambiguously into the domain of religion in his encyclical Laudato si’.
Religious faith acknowledges the mystery at the heart of existence, and holds that we can relate to that mystery in and through the physical universe, keeping in mind the fact that the natural world does not exist simply to provide human needs: before God, it has its own intrinsic value.
While Vicuña fashions “poems in space” to transmit her message, Pope Francis uses the written word to draw attention to the plight of the natural world, which he believes to be God’s beloved handiwork: “Creation has to do with God’s loving plan, in which every creature has its own value and significance. . .” For this reason, he insists, the earth, our common home, “can only be understood as a gift from the outstretched hand of God” (LS, section 76).
If the world as we know it is not to be devastated through human activity, we need to give serious consideration to some crucial questions concerning our future. What are we doing, and what more could we do, to lessen the detrimental impact of our actions and lifestyle on the earth in its present state of fragility? We must radically change our behaviour, or we perish.
Contemplate
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things. . .
(Gerard Manley Hopkins, “God’s Grandeur”)
POPE FRANCIS encourages us to foster in ourselves a contemplative consciousness that opens our eyes to the interconnectedness of all created things, and to seek a serene harmony with the natural world, our God-given home. He believes that the intensified pace of life and work that so many of us experience today can drive us to frenetic activity, which “contrasts with the naturally slow pace of biological evolution” (LS, s. 18).
He calls this phenomenon “rapidification”, arguing that it can lead us to ride roughshod over everything. It has caused many of us to become such compulsive consumers that our unsustainable lifestyles and throwaway culture have contributed to the catastrophic impoverishment of the natural environment.
Vicuña’s artwork draws us into a space of attentiveness to what we see and hear around us. Her creative sculptures inspire and motivate us to look at life in fresh new ways. Pope Francis advocates this contemplative approach, believing that it has the capacity to free us from our obsession with endless activity, production, and consumption.
For Pope Francis, contemplation, lived out authentically, protects human activity from becoming merely empty activism. It leads to “a balanced lifestyle, together with a capacity for wonder which takes us to a deeper understanding of life” (LS, s. 225). Contemplation enables us to be fully present, in heart, mind, and body, to what is; and to respond creatively as we look towards what could be.
Through contemplation, our innate capacity to hear God’s word is sharpened. When we take that word into our minds and hearts, we will find ourselves looking on creation with loving eyes. Perhaps then we will see that our common human task at this time is “to undo as much as we can of the damage already done, and to contribute creatively to saving the planet and enriching its future” (Denis Edwards, Jesus and the Cosmos, St Paul Publications).
Sister Teresa White is a member of the Faithful Companions of Jesus.