-
photo: Hedi Jaansoo
saltpetre, electronic arm, motion sensor
triggered by motion of the visitor, the electronic arm smears saltpetre on the looping film, gradually altering its form
-
Birth of a Grenade
saltpetre, 16mm film (hand processed in banana, dates and cocoa powder), electronic arm, arduino, wood, 100% cotton, film projector, soil
2022
–– -
For over a hundred years, when the East India Company ships brought barrels of saltpetre to the shores of England, they also brought with them a force that determined how we move in the world today.
Saltpetre, also known by its chemical name, Potassium Nitrate (KNO3) was a coveted global commodity that was mined, traded and fought over for its role in the production of gunpowder by competing colonial powers. An advantage over this material not only meant dominance over land but also over the sea trade.
Around the period that saltpetre was being honed for its use in sophisticating militarisation, the development of potassium nitrate splintered into other purposes such as in the production of fertilisers for the soil—descendants of which are commonly used in most present day greenhouses and conservatories across Europe.
In the presence of the displaced plant habitat in the greenhouse, birth of a grenade responds to the multi species colonial violence by drawing connections between the raw materials and their applications in creating the by-products that are eternally constructing and destructing, building up while simultaneously breaking down.
The work is a diptych that consists of two stations: one that involves a 16mm film projection with an electronic arm that is triggered by the visitor’s motion and the other is a series of short sound pieces that interacts with and intervenes in the Palm House’s existing soundscape of bird sounds playing through their network of indoor speakers.
The film playing on a loop performs the alternating role of grieving, anticipating and raging. It exists within these contradictions only to be further exaggerated through the performance of many multiplicities within the work.
The film has been hand processed solely with bananas, dates and cocoa powder—materials that would otherwise not be available for this use in Helsinki had they not once been carried in the bellies of ships across the heaving seas. The source and its journeys long obscured. Diffused and discharged.
The hazy, somewhat ghostly images of the film are made possible from the flesh of the fruits thus inherently carrying within them traces of their history, perhaps also carrying the ancestral violence. This weight carries the film to push through the construction of meanings while simultaneously becoming undone. The electronic arm activated by the motion of visitors dips its tip in a bowl of saltpetre before smearing it on to the looping film. Over time and through the activity of multiple visitors, the film begins to lose form, breaking down the image till it becomes near incoherent. Layers of potassium nitrate begins to disintegrate the work and change what is seen, turning it into an altogether new work. Even as we lose the original work over time, we expect to gain another version of it by the end of the exhibition period.
The trigger of the electronic arm is activated by the visitor entering the space. How much action (or not) the actant undertakes in the (re)construction of the film may point back at one’s agency or ability to affect and/or preserve the work. There are inherent contradictions present in this desire to preserve and the desire to affect, not too different then from the themes that the conservatories are often built upon.
The sound piece(s) embedded within the Palm House’s existing soundscape attempts to further this tension between what could be considered “native” and what may fall outside of it. The sound piece builds upon artist Tuomas Alatalo’s work “Neulaset” and incorporates readings from various passages, occasionally even imagining the glass Palm House as a vessel gliding across the open seas, carrying everything within itself—the plants, the seeds, the soil, the artworks, you and I.
––
Botanical Witnesses, 8th Artishok Biennial | Curated by Ann Mirjam Vaikla
Tallinn Botanic Garden, Tallinn
Electronics and woodwork: Marloes van Son
Additional sound courtesy: Tuomas Alatalo
Video documentation