Human and Nature

hube: Could you share the inspiration behind the Landscapes exhibition and how it has evolved from your previous works? What is the essence of Landscapes?

Michael Elmgreen: This show is called Landscapes not because it’s about nature per se, but because it’s about how landscapes are a projection of our imagination, our human perception. Since the Romantic era, it has been objectified, romanticised, and othered. We find this strange because us humans are also nature; we are part of the landscape. In the exhibition, we also address urban landscapes. Most landscapes in the industrially developed world have been altered and cultivated. So, what is a landscape today? It’s what we project onto it. 

Ingar Dragset: We found it quite fun to put on an exhibition like this in Switzerland because it is known for its cities and towns as well as its famous landscapes. However, the Swiss landscape is often curated, like with cows in serene looking mountainscapes in advertisements for Swiss chocolate. We all know that that is not what a milk farm looks like today. Our perceptions of landscapes are frequently shaped by the media we consume, rather than their true appearance. This is something we explored a long time ago with our installation Prada Marfa, where we placed a luxury goods shop in the middle of the Texan desert. Today, even wilderness is a commodity. We know it well from films, advertisements, and TV series. So when we look at a landscape, it’s not as it really is, but how we know it from a mediated reality. This exhibition is a reflection of that reality.

h: A quote ‘A desert can be so desolate that nobody knows it exists’ by Inger Christensen plays a significant role in setting the scene for the exhibition. Why did you choose this particular quote and how does it relate to the overall theme of Landscapes?

ME: To humans, nature only exists through our perception. This problem is closely linked to the climate crisis. If it’s not mapped by our consciousness, it’s like it doesn’t exist. The quote is taken from a poetry collection by the Danish poet Inger Christensen and is also describing a state of mind, an inner feeling. 

ID: The quote evokes a kind of mental landscape beyond the literal meaning of an actual desert. It can be a metaphor for loneliness, for example. Sometimes things grow so big and all-encompassing that you don’t even realise they are there.

h: The installation featuring street signs with mirrored panels seems to encourage reflection both literally and metaphorically. Could you elaborate on the intended interaction between these signs and the viewers?

ME: The signs are the opposite of a natural landscape. They are very much part of the urban environment, one of the many tools we use to navigate our cities. Street markings, road signs, traffic lights, and laws regulate our behavioural patterns to an extreme degree. Imagine coming from the 18th century and entering one of our cities today; you’d be shocked at how regulated our movements are. 

ID: The street signs in the exhibition don’t give clear instructions but signal that you have to think for yourself. They reflect you along with your surroundings. It’s interesting to think about how people found their way before modern devices and signs. They often looked to the sky for direction, and the images of the skies on each sign symbolise this more abstract way of navigating. Today, we might lose our capacity to adapt to our environment because we are so used to being told what to do.

h: One of the sculptures incorporates animatronic technology to simulate a bird’s breathing. How do you see the role of technology in your art, particularly in creating a sense of life and fragility for Landscapes in Geneva? 

ME: The breathing bird in a child’s hands is a representation of how kids might first encounter the cycle of life and death. They may hope to save a bird that has maybe fallen from its nest or flown into a window. This is one of the first important existential experiences in many children’s lives. Here, it’s quite a hopeful scene because the bird is still breathing; there’s still life in it.

h: Your work often combines elements of the surreal and the absurd. How do these elements help convey your message about nature and our place within it in this exhibition?

ID: Life itself is quite absurd and surreal and our work reflects this reality. The more you try to depict life realistically, the more you are confronted with its complexities. It feels natural for us to work with absurdist elements and humour because that’s what we see all around us. And everyday situations can become magical and mysterious if taken out of their normal context and put in a different light.

h: The exhibition includes a pair of perforated green rain boots cast in bronze, which juxtaposes functionality and futility. What is the significance of this piece within the context of the exhibition? 

ME: Rainboots are meant to protect us from nature, but really, we can never completely shield ourselves from it. This piece has a dark side; it symbolises our inability to control nature as we once thought we could. We, as humans, naively believe we can control natural phenomena, but umbrellas and rain boots won’t protect us from the problems we face today.

ID: Climate is not the main theme of the exhibition, but it’s related. Our art tries to show how things may interconnect. We are faced with the consequences of climate change partly because we have treated nature as something separate from ourselves, something we visit or exploit.  

h: In the installation featuring a boy assembling a puzzle, what does the completed puzzle reveal, and how does this piece contribute to the narrative of the exhibition?

ID: The puzzle depicts a blue sky with clouds, just like the street signs. The boy trying to assemble this abstract puzzle symbolises how difficult it is to understand the world. Humans have always looked at the sky and wondered what is beyond, creating myths and religions to find meaning. The boy represents this struggle to make sense of life and find the right way to put together one’s own world. A puzzle with a clear image is easier to assemble, but one depicting the sky can be put together in many ways.

h: How to Become a Bird is a book found in a bird’s nest within the exhibition. Could you discuss the symbolism behind this work and its connection to the broader themes of identity and transformation?

ID: The title mimics self-help books, which are very popular today, as people often struggle to find value in society. This rather absurd work satirises our more superficial attempts to perfect ourselves. Before these “quick fix” books, humans still managed to be human. Birds are birds without needing a guide. The book in the nest suggests that maybe these self-help books aren’t as necessary as we think; maybe it’s more important to follow your own instincts.

h: Your practice often involves re-contextualising everyday objects in new and uncanny ways. How do you see this approach influencing the viewer’s perception of the natural world in Landscapes? 

ME: We’re interested in how humans project their views and experiences onto the natural world and even sometimes try to replicate it. We’ve often worked with the shape of pools – pools are in a way a human replacement of a pond or a lake. There are strong biases in what we consider natural and what we don’t, shaping our perception of nature and ecology. Often, we romanticise nature and overlook its harsher aspects. Our work aims to challenge these notions and present a more nuanced view of the natural world.