CLIMATE CHANGE : CULTURAL CHANGE Malcolm Miles INTRODUCTION This essay accompanies the programme Climate Change : Cultural Change developed by Helix Arts in partnership with CarbonNeutral Newcastle and NewcastleGateshead Initiative to coincide with the World Summit on Arts and Culture (June 14th-17th, 2006). Malcolm Miles is an academic and writer, working with graduate and research students in the Faculty of Arts at the University of Plymouth. The essay is in four parts: * an outline of why dealing with climate change requires a change of culture; * a commentary on the programme Climate Change : Cultural Change; * a context for Climate Change : Cultural Change in environmental art since the 1970s; * a reflection on the limits of art in dealing with climate change. Quotations introduce other voices. The essay is written for non-academic readers but followed by a set of notes on further reading for students in the arts, humanities, and social sciences. THE PROBLEM The facts of climate change are stark - illustrated by a rise in carbon dioxide levels in the Earth's atmosphere: 200 parts of carbon dioxide per million in the ice ages, compared to 260 to 270 parts per million in previous warm periods and a prediction of 400 parts per million in 2015 (according to the U.K. government's Chief Scientific Advisor, Sir David King). Other indicators include: * melting of the Arctic and Antarctic ice caps; * increased frequency of flash floods and force of hurricanes; * migration of species beyond their previous ranges, or loss of species unable to adapt. Something has gone wrong in the planet's equilibrium. This is not to say the Earth ever had a steady state. Its climate has always shifted between warm periods and ice ages. But the rapidity of climate change today follows several centuries of urbanisation, industrialisation and now globalisation. Climate change cannot be quickly reversed because once carbon dioxide is in the atmosphere it lasts for two to three centuries. We can slow the rate of climate change by reducing greenhouse gas emissions while moving towards a sustainable way of living; or we can resign ourselves to a world of deserts, storms, rising seas, wars over water, mass migrations, social chaos on an unprecedented scale, and a rate of species extinction unmatched since the end of the dinosaurs. But adopting a sustainable way of living seems difficult. It seems almost as if we don’t realise the extent or urgency of the problem. Here's the paradox: if the scientists are right, we're living through the biggest thing that's happened since human civilization emerged. One species, ours, has by itself in the course of a couple of generations managed to powerfully raise the temperature of an entire planet, to knock its most basic systems out of kilter. But oddly, though we know about it, we don't know about it. It hasn't registered in our gut; it isn't part of our culture. Where are the books? The poems? The plays? (Bill McKibben, Open Democracy website: 'Can You Imagine? A Warming World Needs Art' 22nd April, 2005). But I think many people do realise that. It is more that the habits of everyday life, like the values assumed in how a society is organised, are taken for granted. To change means standing out from the crowd. To ask, then, whether the arts influence how we live probably means asking whether they can contribute to a change in the wider culture. That seems to be the question posed by Climate Change : Cultural Change. What is clear is that cultural change does happen. To give an example, a Ford Motor Company catalogue produced for the north American market in the 1950s predicted that a white, suburban middle class family would soon have five cars. No manufacturer would say that today. And even BP, one of the world's biggest oil companies, is now called Beyond Petroleum. That would have been unthinkable half a century ago but the framework in which we see the oil industry has changed, partly as a result of several major disasters to the environment caused by oil spillage, and partly as a result of scientific evidence linking car use (and other uses of fossil fuels) to global warming. A more recent example of cultural change is the rejection of GM foods. Protesters trashed GM crops and statements from government ministers were greeted with cynicism, but when a journalist coined the phrase Frankenstein Foods it seemed a turning point was reached. No-one would want to eat Frankenstein Foods. After that, supermarkets competed to clear GM foods from their shelves and ban GM ingredients in their own-brand goods. The GM debate was influenced by a dramatic phrase which enabled people who were uneasy about GM foods to feel reassured they were part of a wider process of questioning them. The GM companies went to less regulated countries, so the issue has not gone away, but a cultural shift occurred. Journalism is not quite art but the case shows how a dramatic phrase which taps into popular cultural memories – the Frankenstein films – can use those associations to help bring about change. It may be that when Hollywood capitalises on climate change for a new kind of disaster movie the increased familiarity of the story detracts from the urge to counter climate change, so the solution is not clear-cut or simple. But we know we don't live in films or in the adverts which show a world of unlimited satisfaction through consumption, and art is one way to open questions about reality and our relation to it. It may also be a way to imagine alternatives. If, that is, we are to change the way we live on the Earth, we need new stories about ourselves and our lives. Sometimes these happen spontaneously. At others artists can create the conditions in which they are more likely to arise. THE PROGRAMME Climate Change : Cultural Change takes place in Newcastle and Gateshead in June, 2006. The exhibitions, screenings, events, and actions are designed for multiple audiences. Details are given in the programme website. My aim is to look at how art can impact awareness of climate change and ways to counter it. I discuss the programme under three headings: * imaginatively representing climate change; * imaginatively provoking reactions to it; * and imaginatively demonstrating solutions. Some events relate to more than one heading but the headings indicate a journey from awareness to action. I begin with representation, and its enigmatic quality. Ice, like the sea, is beautiful and dangerous. Images of the glaciers and ice flows of the Arctic and Antarctic communicate a feeling of silence, limitless space and timelessness. When part of an ice flow breaks off and drifts it becomes an iceberg like the one that sank the Titanic, a ship thought by its designers to be unsinkable. Both aspects are sublime, in different ways. But the ice is melting now at an unprecedented rate. To study this, a group of scientists and artists made three voyages on the ship Noorderlicht, in the project Cape Farewell (named after the southernmost point of Greenland). David Buckland, artist and Director of Cape Farewell, argues that the voyage offered artists "some way of using their art to raise awareness of climate change or just celebrate how beautiful the world is and how we should care for it, not destroy it." (BBC News, 16th March, 2005). Among the artists was Antony Gormley, who spent four days working in sub-zero temperatures to make a figure in ice. BBC News reported: "The artist behind the Angel of the North statue has turned his hand to building a snowman in the Arctic." (BBC News, 16th March, 2005). The voyages brought together scientists and arts professionals in the hope that creative expression can add to the power of scientific data in raising awareness of climate change. The artists' impressions can be seen in the Cape Farewell exhibition outside the Sage Music Centre, Gateshead. Perhaps the most dramatic element of this exhibition is David Buckland's WaterMist Wall, on the 5- by 4-metre surface of which is projected a video loop showing texts projected onto the Arctic ice: Sadness Melts, Black Abyss, and Burning Ice, among others. Buckland also alludes to the 10,000-year archive of carbon emissions contained in the ice sheet in The Cold Library of Ice. This library tells us that emissions have increased alarmingly, and reminds us of the continuities which the effects of high carbon levels are destroying. Among them is the assumption that future generations will inherit the Earth as a liveable planet. Buckland reminds us of the vulnerability of regeneration in an image of a pregnant woman projected onto the ice through a smoke screen. Do we see the world through a glass darkly or mask it in a smoke screen of denials? Michael Pinsky, artist in residence with CarbonNeutral Newcastle, shows video works at Globe City. Each reflects an aspect of pollution, exposing factors which might contribute to a false security if they remained invisible. Also in the exhibition is a virtual gallery on climate change involving use of an interactive POD to which audiences can contribute; and films by the USbased artists Helen Mayer Harrison and Newton Harrison. Through the POD people can access Climate Change Explorer – an arts education project involving new media artist Peter Rogers following a one-year residency with scientists at the U.K. Environmental Change Network, and students at Dowdales School in Cumbria (www.ecn.ac.uk/cce). The partnership with CarbonNeutral Newcastle also gives access to a means through which local groups and individuals can develop their own efforts to reduce carbon emissions, and it is hoped the programme of Climate Change : Cultural Change will increase use of theor website (www.carbonneutralnewcastle.com). At Globe Hub in North Shields the work of pupils from Marden High School complements Michael Pinsky's Turning Point, following a residency at the school by artist Gayle Chong Kwan. Also at Globe Hub is Consequences, a film of a play written and produced by students at Mortimer Comprehensive School which links climate change to family life. While the Harrisons exhibit maps of Europe as a network of rivers and watersheds, and ask in Greenhouse Britain whether we can withdraw from coastal areas as gracefully as the seas will rise, the engagement of students with the everyday impact of climate change may produce an ownership of the problem vital to the generation of responses to it. The exhibition NorthSouthEastWest - a 360 degree view of climate change similarly features a juxtaposition of the big picture with everyday life in the work of ten photographers from the Magnum Photographic Agency. A different kind of contribution is made when images emphasise beauty and vulnerability but also the strangeness of landscapes threatened as a result of climate change. In composing Sinfonia Antarctica, Vaughan Williams used musical sounds reminiscent of the winds which moan or shriek across the southern ice sheets to evoke this strangeness. The CD Music, Art & Climate Change, produced in January, 2006 in a Newcastle University initiative linked to the Science Festival, includes the music of ten living composers from Lithuania, Austria, Canada, and the U.K. (www.furthernoise.org). Our attitude towards nature starts with our ego. How do we treat ourselves? Do we experience our reality in a physically and spiritually harmonious way? Can we still identify with our surroundings or even ourselves? In the process of alienation from nature we became increasingly aware of having lost our original relationship with nature long ago. This loss is ... not limited to an environmental-ecological dimension. It is a comprehensive social, biological and intellectual relational loss ... [coinciding with] the feeling of a comprehensive loss of individual nature within a self-made environment which feels increasingly foreign. (Heike Strelow, in the catalogue for Natural Reality, 1999, p. 45). I see a particular value in representing the strangeness of these landscapes, their otherness from all that is familiar to us, in that it gives a counter-image to how we think of ourselves. That might be obvious, but what I mean is that while we know the forces of wind, water, light, and rock which produce the natural world are inanimate and indifferent to us we need them emotionally in ways we might not fully understand. Since the introduction of the sublime in Romantic art in the late eighteenth century as recognition of the limits to human progress, representations of wilderness have been persistently produced. This is complex, and I must leave it there except to say that the strangeness of uninhabited places is that they are moulded by forces in an always-unfinished movement in and out of a state which is never the equilibrium we might project onto a natural world or try to reproduce in an idealised social world. Leaving that aside, It Costs the Earth by Peter Kennard and Cat Picton Phillips is a photomontage image produced as 50,000 flyers, and as posters. The image is an antidote to the blandness of events such as the World Summit on Arts and Culture. The Earth (which begins to look like the moon, or a lifeless planet) has opened its mouth to show its teeth. Inside is not so much darkness as a dark mess. It reminds me of a saying used at funerals in rural Greece: "The Earth which fed you now shall eat you". Kennard and Phillips make the image grotesque, a shock rather than a reiteration of mortality's natural cycle. A different kind of provocation is produced by Michael Pinsky's Come Hell or High Water, a fleet of cars struggling up the Tyne. The cars are illuminated at night and provide a dramatic idea of life after rising sea levels. Pinsky emphasises the ambiguity: By now almost completely submerged, only the tops of the cars remain visible ... Day and night they make their weary way, their bright colours declaring their imminent arrival by day, their internal illumination reflecting in the river as darkness falls. The 20th century hailed the invention of the combustion engine freeing humankind from the tedium of river transportation, now as the roads fill to capacity are these daring travellers re-appropriating our water-based networks? Are new amphibious modes of transport needed as roads flood ... As our journeys become increasingly unpredictable will our ingenuous solutions save the short term crisis to create long term problems? (Climate Change : Cultural Change documentation). Also dealing with transport but lending visibility to a way to deal with climate change, Heath Bunting and Kayle Brandon convert a diesel-fuelled van to run on vegetable oil. After publicity about people recycling the oil from chip shops as nearly-free fuel, the U.K. government has sought to tax it, so the money saving is less than it could be. But this does not diminish the environmental savings - vegetable oil is far less polluting than fossil fuels. There are questions as to how much of Britain would need to be planted with oil-seed rape to provide enough for the country's transport system, yet vegetable oil is one of several solutions to be combined with an overall reduction in car use if we are to retain the benefits of mobility without the destructive impact of burning oil. Around 700,000 litres of biodiesel are produced each month in the UK, and the government promises a 200% increase at the pumps within five years in order to meet Kyoto targets. ... Biodiesel is biodegradable; it emits 78% less carbon dioxide than conventional diesel. ... Biodiesel is the only alternative fuel to have successfully completed the Health Effects Testing requirement of the Clean Air Act (1990). ... In a speech two years ago, [then] UK Foreign Secretary Jack Straw stated that the UK will be importing three-quarters of its primary energy needs. This would drastically increase the nation's economic dependence and will demand close political ties with the petro-states of the Middle East, regardless of any lack of legitimacy or human rights abuses. (Laura Strieth, 'Biodiesel Futures', Permaculture Magazine, 48, Summer 2006, pp.48-49). The difficulty is not the viability of the technology but that running a vehicle on vegetable oil is a minority interest - like organic vegetables ten years ago. But that changed. Finally in this section, the film Self-Portrait Sri Lanka by Media 19 shows that local groups of people can overcome the impact of major disasters to rebuild their lives. Those lives will, of course, never be the same as before. Countless people, mainly the poorest, died because they had no warning or means of escape from the tsunami. For most their means of livelihood were destroyed with their houses. The film shows that local people have methods of rebuilding a society appropriate to local conditions and the knowledge of local people. Perhaps the rich world can learn from this as it struggles to deal with climate change. THE CONTEXT Since the 1970s, some artists in north America and Europe have left the art gallery to work in remote places, polluted places, and social settings, or to take part in environmental debates. Some refused to make art objects which could be commodified by the art market, and turned instead to happenings. Others went to deserts where the work could be seen only in photographs. Other artists, including the Harrisons, took a pragmatic approach in which environmental needs were given importance alongside artists' needs. They developed ideas for river systems, and made a traditional wild-flower meadow on the roof of an art gallery in Germany. Other cases of north American environmental art include Alan Sonfist's Time Landscape (1965-78), a re-creation of the original landscape of Manhattan in an enclosed urban park; and Agnes Denes' Wheatfield: A Confrontation (1982), the planting and harvesting of a field of wheat on the Battery Park landfill site. In the same period it was not uncommon to find piles of earth or pieces of turf inside an art gallery, but most of this work was part of a debate as to what constitutes art, not on the environment. We often associate the figure of the artist with a heightened sensitivity to the natural world, but intimacy does not always imply care, and the artist's brush can as easily resemble a dissecting scalpel as it can a lover's caress. The act of speech, of expression, is driven by the imperative to assert the prerogatives of self over a resistant substance. It exists within an extractive economy which all too often views the natural world as a resource rather than an interlocutor. (Grant Kester, in the catalogue to Groundworks, 2005, p. 19). A direct approach to environmental issues is seen in Mel Chin's Revival Field at Pig's Eye landfill site in St Paul-Minneapolis (1990). Chin used plants to naturally extract toxic residues, working with agronomist Rufus Chaney to prove the technology. He has recreated the experiment at Zoetermeer, Netherlands (1992); Palmerston, Pennsylvania (1993); and Neckarwestheim, Germany (2002). But for the most part art which dealt with issues such as erosion and pollution, or piloted solutions to them was outside the mainstream, and seldom covered by the magazines or included in major exhibitions. Artist Michael Heizer was at least honest in saying that, as a sculptor, he had no interest in patching up mining sites: "I don't support reclamation art ... This is strictly art ... I'm not out to entertain." (quoted by Grant Kester, catalogue for Groundworks, 2005, p. 20). Neither was Chin out to entertain, as it happens. In Germany and other European countries in the 1980s and 1990s, artists began to work with architects and planners in greening city spaces or to develop solutions for post-industrial sites. Part of the context for this was the rise of the German Green Party, of which artist Joseph Beuys had been a founding member. Beuys sought to provoke his audiences into thinking about their lives in new ways. For some (not all) this was liberating, and perhaps his legacy is the idea that everyone is an artist. By this he meant that everyone has a creative imagination and a capacity to apply it to their lives and society. This could mean redesigning an environment for human wellbeing; or rethinking the values by which we order our everyday experiences. These are different but compatible uses of imagination. Dealing with post-industrial sites need not, either, mean cleaning them up to look like parks - as if the industry had never been there. German artist Herman Prigann uses the detritus of post-industrial sites, mounds of earth and local plant species - calling nature his collaborator - to create what look like archaeological sites. They will eventually be overgrown by the plants he reintroduces yet the pattern of their growth will reflect his intervention. He insists we should not see industry as bad: it gave us things we needed, and jobs as well as profit. The history of a landscape is not purely one of natural forces, anyway, but in most cases in Europe of human adaptation. The schematic confrontation of natural and cultural landscape has now ... been subjected to a critique essentially aimed at questioning the natural character of the traditional landscape to be protected ... Nobody can ignore that an essential aesthetic difference exists between the older cultural landscape and the things that have taken its place ...in the course of industrialisation and urbanisation. What we are observing today is the transformation of a cultural landscape into a condition which possesses its own qualities ... The older cultural landscape was an agricultural one ... European landscape painting, for example, generally refers to direct traces of human life. The pictures not only show meadows kept free of shrubbery, or woods used in the forestry sense, artificial fish ponds, pruned trees or flocks minded by shepherds, but also villages and towns, farms, castles and mills. When today a mill is demolished and a power plant constructed in its place, when military airbases replace castles, this is a mere formal change in the functional sense, but aesthetically it is experienced as a rupture. (Rolf Peter Sieferle, in the catalogue for Natural Reality, 1999, pp. 149-151). Perhaps a more immediate context for Climate Change : Cultural Change is the rise of environmental issues on political agendas after the Kyoto Agreement, global anti-capitalist protest, and single-issue campaigns on animal rights and roads. There is more awareness now that environmental issues are linked to social values. In this context, environmental art has begun to adopt the tactics of the participatory art practices in social settings – usually working with disadvantaged people, often in inner city areas - which artist Suzanne Lacy calls new genre public art. There are precedents going back to the work of Mierle Laderman Ukeles in New York (www.feldmangallery.com). In the 1970s, Ukeles began to address the issue of how a city as big as New York handles its waste. One of her first acts was to walk the city's five boroughs to personally thank and shake the hands of its garbage collectors - disdained because they touch filth - in a work titled Touch Sanitation. Nearly thirty years later, Nine Mile Run Greenway coordinated by Tim Collins and Reiko Goto in Pittsburgh (1999-2002) set aside traditional artmaking to concentrate on social interactions of another kind. The project involved a series of workshops in which local people met city planners and other experts on terms equalised through a sharing of information, as well as work with school students and employment of experts in various non-art fields to demonstrate the viability of a zone of bio-diversity and public access in a 240-acre site of steel industry slag (www.slaggarden.cfa.cmu.edu). While some artists ... viewed the land as a larger canvas, of interest primarily for its cultural and historical associations or for the formal properties of scale and material opened up by the natural environment, others began to approach the natural world as a complex gestalt of biological, political, economic and cultural forces. (Grant Kester, catalogue for Groundworks, 2005, p. 21). In north-East England, the project to construct a wetland through which to treat polluted water sources at Quaking Houses, County Durham, similarly utilised the expertise of water scientists, here from projects in the non-affluent world, but began as an initiative by a tightly knit community in a place blighted by the destruction of the mining industry in the Thatcher years. It would be difficult to argue that the mines should have been kept open to produce fossil fuel and contribute to global warming, but this does not detract from the argument that industry was not (as Prigann argues) bad as such. Its effects were destructive but this was the product of an exploitative economic system which treated workers and environments as resources to be used up in a relentless processing of the planet into profit. Another outcome of industrialisation was solidarity among workers and their organisation in trades unions. Solidarity may still be a forceful means to deal with climate change, if as yet relatively untested. And it may be found in rural as well as industrial settings, in which recent environmental art has also sought to intervene (www.littoral.org). I end this section by mentioning some recent exhibitions in which socially-oriented environmental art has been shown, and the work of one London-based group. The exhibitions are Fragile Ecologies at the Queens Museum, New York (1992); Natural Reality at the Ludwig Forum, Aachen, Germany (1999); Ecovention at the Cincinnati Contemporary Arts Centre (2002); and Groundworks at Carnegie Mellon University, Pittsburgh (2005). Among the artists included in these, variously, were Mel Chin, Alan Sonfist, the Harrisons, Herman de Vries, Herman Prigann, Jackie Brookner, Alba d'Urbano, Eve Andrée Laramée, Georg Dietzler, Laurie Palmer, and groups including GroundZero Action Network (in the U.S.) and London-based PLATFORM - my final example in this context for Climate Change: Cultural Change. PLATFORM (www.platformlondon.org) are interesting because they have worked in two quite different ways: applying sustainable energy technologies in a project to provide power for a school music room from a turbine in one of London's neglected tributaries of the Thames (most of which are culverted), and in the construction of a solar- and peddle-powered vehicle for street video performances; and using spoof newspapers and other encounters, such as guided walks for small invited groups through London's financial district, to (as they put it) inject ideas into the social bloodstream. Another example of their work is Carbon Generations, a performance work in which James Marriott uses family history together with the facts of climate change to show that it is produced not only by the global oil industry but also in consumers' everyday acts. Climate Change : Cultural Change takes place when art for or about the environment has been through several stages: * a move from the gallery to remote places as an extension of art space; * development of designs and practical solutions for damaged environments; * participatory processes in which social and environmental agendas intersect; * and the use of a range of tactics to provoke or evoke a personal sense of responsibility and empowerment. I wonder how much of the programme will be remembered, but if a few people change elements of their lifestyle or consumption as a result of it, this contributes to wider, incremental changes. I think that is as much as can be hoped for. OPPORTUNITIES AND LIMITS My conclusions are speculative and polemical, presented here in a far less qualified way than I would put them in an academic paper: * art can contribute to raising awareness of climate change and how to deal with it; * it does so in a variety of ways, some of which are neither obvious nor open to measurement; * art has a particular value in as much as it gives glimpses of an alternative world through its imaginative, creative, and at times playful vision; * art alone is not enough in face of a need for radical changes in society's values and lifestyles; * and the issues of climate change, environmental justice, and social justice are inextricably linked. What we need if we are to live sustainably is a radical shift in the culture - as the set of habits and practices of everyday life which reflect and shape our values - which allows living unsustainably to seem acceptable. I would add that when conventional political methods fail new political forms and modes of expression arise in which art begins to merge with political action. The work of PLATFORM is close to this but the group retains its status as an artists' group. Activism is another category, though could be seen as making the most direct challenge to the economic and political systems which enable continued abuse of the planet and its human and non-human inhabitants. Most people cannot be activists any more than they can be professional artists, which leads me to think about art's communicative function. Against this backdrop comes a huge cultural leadership opportunity. And it is appropriate that leadership is already being shown by NewcastleGateshead, formerly associated with coal and now committed to becoming the world's first CarbonNeutral city. (Climate Change: Cultural Change documentation). Traditional avant-gardes acted on the basis that they, as artists or writers, foresaw a new society and could lead others towards it. The French painter Gustave Courbet spoke of trying to change the world through art. It didn't happen. I would argue that this was not because the artists were incompetent but because the idea of the avant-garde artist is deeply flawed: if artists interpret the world for others they assume implicitly that those nameless others cannot interpret it for themselves. The power relation of a ruling class who know what should happen and lower orders who don't is reproduced. I have doubts about cultural leadership, and these are compounded by a tendency in cultural policy to see the arts as solving problems – like social exclusion - produced by other areas of government policy. This is not to say the arts have nothing to offer: projects undertaken by Helix Arts in the social, health and probation services in the north of England demonstrate the value to participants of being included in them, being taken seriously and recognised as creative human beings. But this happens in partnerships based on equality, suggesting a fundamental social reorganisation, not another kind of leadership. The state ... [is] a stage of ecological regulation which is necessary, but limited and even dangerous. It is limited because it represents the general interest only in the form of an 'externality', a power above us, whereas the need is to internalize, in his or her own behaviour, each individual's duty to everyone. It is dangerous because ... separate from the community, [the state] can be appropriated by a minority. (Alain Lipietz, Green Hopes: The Future of Political Ecology, Cambridge, Polity Press, 1995, pp.17-18). I end with three points: * change is most likely to happen when the possibility is realised at a personal level; * art may contribute to this but only if the means used embody the values which shape the desired ends; * cultural change includes a re-framing of how we think of ourselves and the world. The ways we act are governed by the stories we believe about ourselves. I do not argue for new myths but fear of difference is an obstacle to change. Research on organic vegetable box schemes in the South-West of England in the 1990s found that most people who ordered a box felt it made them part of a network of people hoping for a better world. Can art shape our hopes, or demonstrate how to live lightly on the Earth, or use the creative imagination for the pursuit of social and environmental justice? This is easier said than done, like love or most things which matter. But the creative imagination is our common wealth. NOTES FOR FURTHER READING On global warming see Gale Christianson, Greenhouse: the 200-year story of global warming (London, Constable, 1999). On the device of ecological footprinting see Ecological Footprints as an indicator of sustainability by Nicky Chambers, Craig Simmons and Mathis Wackernagel (London, Earthscan, 2000). For definitions of culture see Raymond Williams' Keywords (London, Fontana, 1976). For a critical view of consumerism see Konrad Lodziak, The Myth of Consumerism (London, Pluto Press, 2002); and for a chapter on green consumption see Steven Miles and Malcolm Miles, The Consuming City (Basingstoke, Palgrave, 2004). For discussion of the politics of social and environmental justice see David Harvey, Justice, Nature & the Geography of Difference (Oxford, Blackwell, 1996); and The Urbanization of Injustice, edited by Andy Merrifield and Erik Swyngedouw (London, Lawrence & Wishart, 1996). There is a large literature on sustainable development - see Jeniffer Elliott, Sustainable Development: An Introduction (London, Routledge, 2nd edition, 1999) for a way into the subject; also The Earthscan Reader in Sustainable Cities, edited by David Satterthwaite (London, Earthscan, 1999); and Hugh Barton, Sustainable Communities: The Potential for Eco-Neighbourhoods for cases of alternative settlements. Other authored and edited titles on environmentalism include: David Camacho, Environmental Injustices, Political Struggles: Race, Class and the Environment (Durham NC, Duke University Press, 1998); Erik Darier, Discourses of the Environment (Oxford, Blackwell, 1999), which uses a Foucauldian analysis; Arran Gare, Postmodernism and the Environmental Crisis (London, Routledge, 1995); Varieties of Environmentalism: Essays North and South edited by Ramachandra Guha and Juan Martinez-Alier (London, Earthscan, 1997); and David Pepper, Modern Environmentalism: An Introduction (London, Routledge, 1996). On political ecology see Political Ecology: Global and Local edited by Roger Keil, David Bell, Peter Penz and Leesa Fawcett (London, Routledge, 1998); Liberation Ecologies: environment, development, social movements edited by Richard Peet and Michael Watts (London, Routledge, 1996); and Alain Lipietz, Green Hopes: The Future of Political Ecology (Cambridge, Polity Press, 1995). On environmental and ecological art, see catalogues to the following exhibitions: Natural Reality (edited by Heike Strelow, Ludwig Forum, Aachen, 1999); Ecovention, curated by Susan Spaid and Amy Lipton (Cincinnati Contemporary Arts Centre, 2002 - available on the internet); and Groundworks, with an opening essay by Grant Kester, Carnegie Mellon University, 2005). See also Barbara Matilsky, Fragile Ecologies (New York, Rizzoli, 1992); and some cases of projects in Lucy Lippard, The Lure of the Local (New York, The New Press, 1997). For a critical account of Andy Goldsworthy see David Matless and George Revill, 'A Solo Ecology: The erratic art of Andy Goldsworthy', Ecumene, vol. 2, #4.pp. 423-448. For a wide-ranging discussion by several authors of recent ecological art including that of Hermann Prigann see Ecological Aesthetics: Art in Environmental Design - Theory and Practice, edited by Vera David and Heike Strelow (Basle, Birkhäuser, 2004). There are also some references in my own Urban Avant-Gardes (London, Routledge, 2004). See also www.greenmuseum.org.
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