Earth Is Not Flat, But Soon Will Be

by Raquel Ferreira

On the Saturday afternoon of 5th October 2024, visitors to Neumünster Abbey found themselves transported to distant corners of the world within the walls of four exhibition rooms, where the lenses of five distinct artists touched the hearts of dozens. 

The Tour 

Aimed at shedding light on the impact of climate change on humanity across the globe, this was no ordinary art exhibition, nor an ordinary journey.

In the first room, visitors were introduced to the works of Kerem Uzel and Andrea Mantovani. Uzel’s Lifetime Captivity delivered a powerful revelation: the often unseen – or perhaps denied – colonialism and oppression behind the “entertainment” of zoos. Across the room, Mantovani’s Le Chant Du Cygne captured the devastating destruction of the ancient Białowieża Forest, located on the border between Poland and Belarus, and the tragic history of conflict that has ravaged it. The striking contrast between Uzel’s quiet condemnation and Mantovani’s militaristic imagery set the tone for the entire afternoon: an uncomfortable beauty, as impactful as a slap in the face.

As we moved to the second hall, Mathias Depardon’s work highlighted the alarming realities of sand mining. His images and accompanying data exposed the second most exploited resource on Earth, and, more disturbingly, our collective ignorance about it. Depardon’s research shed light on Dubai’s absurd situation, where sand is imported from Australia. It was a stark reminder of the misguided paths we’ve taken as a species. The irony of the situation could almost be laughable – if it weren’t so tragic.

In the third room, Natalya Saprunova guided us to Siberia, where the Evenks, an indigenous people, have faced existential threats from gold mining. Both discreet and imposing, the shadow of a reindeer was looming large, symbolising the soul of these people. One haunting image featured Galina, an elderly woman reflecting on her own involvement in environmental destruction, only to become an advocate for preservation later in life. Through Saprunova’s lens, we could almost hear the ancient songs and rituals that keep nature alive.

Finally, we arrived in Somalia, where Nicole Sobecki’s Where Our Land Was offered a vivid connection between piracy, poverty, human trafficking, conflict, and environmental changes. Sobecki’s landscapes were anything but random – carefully chosen to contrast past and present. Her images forced us to confront dark truths and provided a powerful wake-up call to anyone still sceptical about the climate crisis.

For more detailed information: https://www.neimenster.lu/en/events/earth-is-not-flat-but-soon-will-be/

The Discussion

As Yasemin spoke about her artistic journey, the distinction between art and photojournalism became clearer to the audience. Both aim to stir the human soul, but photojournalism has the unique power to provoke discomfort – a discomfort that can lead to change.

Change, after all, begins with emotion. And few mediums capture and transmit that emotion as effectively as images. As Capucine put it, “Ecological transition without inner change cannot work.” True transformation requires the ripple effect of individual actions, no matter how small. It was a sentiment I shared with a fellow visitor, cautioning him: “This isn’t exactly a feel-good exhibition.” His smile in response seemed to say, I love it– not despite that, but because of it.

As we neared the end of the tour, my own emotions shifted from expectation to deep gratitude. Upstairs, in a room with coffee and cake, a rich discussion unfolded between Natalya Saprunova, Mathias Depardon, Yasemin, and Capucine Chandon from CELL asbl. Led by the creative questioning of Philippe Ternes (Anna Lindh Foundation / Our Common Future), the audience found words to match the reflections the exhibition had sparked.

Q&A

The artists were asked about their aspirations, the impact they hoped to achieve, and the risks they had taken. Their answers revealed stories beyond the images – moments that further deepened our appreciation of their work.

We spoke of the Anthropocene, the era in which humans have become the dominant force on the planet, wreaking havoc on the natural world. The urgency of returning to a symbiotic relationship with nature was palpable. Climate change is no myth, and it’s not something that happens “out there” – it’s happening everywhere, and action is needed now.

At one point, Mathias admitted, “I don’t know why we keep doing what we do,” sharing how the impact of his photos sometimes falls short of his hopes. But how can one truly measure the effect of their work? Beyond visitor numbers or policy changes, the real power lies in storytelling. When artists share their experiences, they allow their messages to resonate on a collective level, spreading far beyond the confines of the exhibition.

As Capucine noted, the ripple effect is real: even a single image can inspire someone to take action. It’s not always about mass change but about igniting the few who will carry the message forward.

“Carrying a camera doesn’t make you welcome,” Mathias reflected. Yet witnessing the passion, risk, and purpose behind these photojournalists’ work had a transformative effect. It shifted the audience from a sense of helplessness to a renewed drive for change.

A Drop in the Ocean or a Grain of Sand on the Beach?

While the artists described themselves as “just a drop in the ocean,” perhaps a more fitting analogy in this case is a grain of sand on the beach. Their mission, however, is far from small. The synergy created by bringing together artists, photographers, and photojournalists is a powerful force. It connects the audience – the individual grains – with the greater whole, inspiring collective action.

Participant Reflections

As I interviewed other participants, their responses echoed my own feelings – a mix of deep reflection and paradoxical smiles. The exhibition, after all, was full of contrasts: how distance can awaken someone to their immediate surroundings, how seemingly insurmountable challenges can inspire the simplest, most powerful changes.

A common fallacy when confronted with overwhelming issues like climate change or political strife is the belief that we, as individuals, are too small to make a difference. Yet, as the ripple effect and butterfly effect teach us, every action counts.

An old woman in Siberia, an elephant in a zoo, a camel in the Somalian desert – all can inspire a shift in consciousness. Just as photography has the power to educate and stir the soul, no contribution is too small. The real impact comes when we act together as a community.

By Raquel FerreiraOur Common Future

Add comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *