This is the second instalment in a series of blog posts by Climate Sense Intern Alexis Bulman, who is sharing monthly insights into her research, creative process and artistic explorations as she works with us to develop community-engaged artworks and programming around climate change adaptation.
When I began this ClimateSense Internship, I started my research process by watching the PEI Climate Stories, in particular the video with Eric Gilbert struck a chord with me.
In the video, Eric Gilbert discusses the environmental challenges and adaptation approaches to climate change in the small, rural municipality of Victoria by the Sea, and in doing so mentions Lilian’s House.
[Image description: two pages of a sketchbook separated by a coiled spine in the center. The left sketchbook page is a thought-map of words in bubble shapes connected by dark lines. The right sketchbook page has a black ink drawing of Lilian’s actual house, coming from the house is a speech bubble with large black letters that spell “Mrs. Lillian’s Place.”]
Gilbert describes Lilian as an elderly World War II veteran who lived in the community in a house next to the sea, with only a broken sea-wall to protect her home from the water. Twice, during storm surges, the fire department assisted Lilian out of her house which was knee-deep with water. Despite the flooding, she insisted on living there for many years.
Lilian’s story struck a chord; she reminded me of my own grandmothers who both, until recently, lived in homes in beautiful rural PEI settings. I could see how this attachment to place connected to another theme I’ve been contemplating, that of ecological grieving and mourning nature.
[Image description: two pages of a sketchbook separated by a coiled spine in the center. The left sketchbook page is a black ink drawing depicting an old out-building, coming from the out-building is a speech bubble with large black letters that spell “Lilian’s House.” The right sketchbook page has a thought-map of words in bubble shapes connected by dark lines.]
When I think of how Lilian must have felt when she left her home on those nights when the water trickled in, it makes me grieve for all the homes that have been lost to or displaced by the sea, and for the eroding shorelines and creatures whose habitats wash away with it. When we identify ourselves with a place, what are the impacts when that place erodes or washes away?
Working with this theme of ecological grieving, I began to imagine an art installation of a small house built with recycled barn materials like weather shingles, cedar shakes, barn boards and battened windows, positioned in a public space but facing out towards the water. It wouldn’t be a re-creation of Lilian’s actual house, but an embodiment of the feelings of hope and loss her home represented in the community of Victoria by the Sea.
Beyond thinking of this art installation as a memorial to the effects of climate change, rising sea levels and increasing erosion I couldn’t decide what the action-item or take-away of this art installation would be, (art doesn’t need action items or lesson plans, but this concept felt incomplete without one); so I tucked the idea away.
Changing The Narrative
In March, I attended a webinar called Changing the Narrative, hosted by Dr. Robin Cox at Royal Roads University. The webinar explored how shifting the climate change story may offer a key to motivating citizens, businesses, and governments alike, to take the collective and transformative action necessary to shift the catastrophic trajectory we’re on. Panelists included Johanna Wagstaffe (CBC News meteorologist and science host), Denise Withers (Narrative Strategist), and SG̲aan Kwahagang (James McGuire - Musician/Storyteller/Historian/Artist).
You can view the session here:
This webinar broke the logjam of the Lilian’s House art installation.
There were two quotes that stood out for me:
“You can’t change what people think, say or do until you change the stories they tell themselves. - Rather than treating story-telling as a communication activity that we tack-on at the end of developing new strategies, we need to start with the stories. What are the stories that we’re telling ourselves that are holding us back, and what are better stories we can tell that will inspire people to take action? We’re not talking about what life could be like, we’re only talking about the pain-points and nobody wants to buy into a story about how their life is going to suck. So, we need to figure out how we’re going to tap into the positive stories and the hopeful stories”. - Denise Withers
Later in the webinar, SG̲aan Kwahagang described the six guiding principles of the Haida Law, with great emphasis on one in particular:
“Giid tlljuus - Balance. The world is as sharp as the edge of a knife. Balance is needed in our interactions with the natural world. Care must be taken to avoid reaching a point of no return and to restore balance where it has been lost.” SG̲aan Kwahagang elaborated by stating “Our existence is right here, on this edge, but if we understand climate change and take action, then we can prevent the future from tipping over the edge.”
[Image description: two pages of a sketchbook separated by a coiled spine in the center. The left sketchbook page shows an ink and color pencil drawing of a grey house surrounded with plants with a speech bubble that reads “A new building built with old materials”. The right sketchbook page shows a mirror image of the same house but colored yellow and surrounded by different plants, it has a speech bubble that reads “A new building built with new materials”.]
These ideas immediately changed my approach to the Lilian’s House art installation. Instead of building a new house with old materials and plopping it down onto a landscape, I realized I should approach it with balance in mind.
I began sketching a version of a small house built with all new materials. The house would age, weather, decay and eventually crumble into the earth as the years pass. Maybe it would be an installation where wildflowers and weeds grow up around it, instead of a place where people lay flowers in remembrance. It could be an installation that teaters on the edge of a shore, but co-exists with a living shoreline instead of being “protected” by a seawall.
Still in its initial idea phase, Lilian’s House is evolving into an artwork about finding balance between hope and loss, life and death, and future, past and present.