Where earth’s spirit lies

The launch of Culture Declares Emergency on 3 April 2019 was spirited in ways nobody involved at the outset is likely to forget. That and Carnaval, the horse, at the heart of it all.

It started with a What if? question from Ruth Ben-Tovim, the Creative Director of Encounters, a few weeks before. Local authorities were ‘declaring’; a movement of youth strikes was building; and Extinction Rebellion was readying to bring London to a historic standstill.

What if artists and cultural organisations declared a climate and ecological emergency? What if Arts Council England declared a climate emergency? We rang Judith Knight, then Director at Artsadmin at 8am the next day: “Would Artsadmin declare a climate and ecological emergency if asked?” Her answer was immediate: “We could… we would and we should.” 

We seized the moment.  For five weeks, a small group of us met on Zoom almost every other day, very early, often still brushing our teeth, or hair, or both. 

We’d launch on 3 April, heralding the subsequent launch of Letters to the Earth on 12 April and Extinction Rebellion’s actions from 15 April. We’d be aligned to Extinction Rebellion but independent from them; recognising the need both for radical action and to work with sector actors for systemic change.   

Artist led, our launch would be visually striking and dramaturgically bold. We’d take to the streets. There’d be a procession with heralds. We’d visit key cultural organisations and declare the emergency as we went: from Somerset House across Waterloo Bridge to the Southbank Centre, the National Theatre, Tate Modern and end at Shakespeare’s Globe. Heather and Dan (Ackroyd & Harvey) dreamed up a white horse with rider, wearing a grass coat.  

What were we called? We needed ‘declarers’ and a website, flyers and a twitter account.

A call to join the first wave of Culture Declares Emergency went out on 12 March; by 26 March we had 68 declarers, amongst them the Royal Court Theatre, Invisible Dust, the Museums Association, Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra, Akram Kahn, Anthony Gormley and Cardboard Citizens. On that day, there were 200. Two years on there are 1,500.

Artist Jackie Morris gifted an illustrated swallow; with help from Extinction Rebellion’s designers, we made woodblock prints on pink sashes, banners and high viz vests for our road stewards. We found seven declaring heralds and artist Mira Calix created, almost overnight, a soundscape, Sonum Vocis Magnum Parvo, downloadable on phones and mini speakers and played acoustically on small bells by 20 ‘guardians’.

By 3 April, we were ready to step into the street. Parking for a horse box had been located; grass coats were stitched and heralds had their scripts – drawn from the many letters written and submitted to the movement’s first campaign, Letters to the Earth.

Somerset House declared as we stepped out that morning and word came from Tate Modern that we’d be welcomed into the Turbine Hall. Horse and all. 

“There is no doubt”, declared our first herald, writer and environmental activist, Tamsin Omond, “humanity faces the combined catastrophes of climate change, a mass extinction of vital biodiversity, and a degradation of ecosystems. We are individuals and organisations from the arts and culture sector. We declare a climate and ecological emergency.”

 It felt good to be saying it out aloud. 

“We pledge to work with and support our community and local government in tackling this emergency, and we call on others to do the same.” We stated our intentions: ‘We will tell the truth. We will take action. We are committed to justice.”

Our artist heralds led the way. Judy Ling Wong held the traffic on Waterloo Bridge; Ishaka Kalokoh declared outside the South Bank Centre; Tamaryn Payne outside the National Theatre. At Tate Modern, Zena Edwards filled the Turbine Hall with courageous song: ‘I am an artist and I know where my voice belongs.’ At The Globe, young Ella Crowley read her Letter to the Earth and Anthony Simpson-Pike made a final declaration for the Gate Theatre.

Returning to collect banners and flags from Somerset House, thundering rain came down. Lightning cracked over Waterloo Bridge: it felt like a salutation from the sky.

Author Adam Weymouth’s words were apposite:

“…direct action…attempts to drive a knife through the sheen of the everyday and prise it open, so for just a moment new spaces are revealed, and new forms of thinking can emerge. In this liminal place, at the threshold between the commonplace structures of the everyday, the whole paradigm by which we set the clocks of our lives is called into question. This moment… is the birthplace of art, of revolution, of religion, of genius. It is, in short, where spirit lies."  

We’d driven a knife through the sheen of the everyday. And, it appeared, the weather system too.

In the two years that have followed, taking our lead and inspiration, Music has declared as well as Architects, Heritage, Business, Tourism, Health and more – creating a declaring professional movement. Culture Declares now has regional UK hubs and international hubs too. 

And we all now have our eyes set on COP26 this November; the postponed 26th UN Climate Change Conference of the Parties to be hosted in Glasgow, where the commitments to the Paris Agreement will be reviewed. It will soon become clear if the world has stepped up to the level of ambition required to keep our planet liveable.

Culture Declares is more than a list of declarers: it is a community where we draft campaigns, actions and advocacy to mobilise others in the cultural sector, the public and power holders. If you are an artist or a cultural organization, make your declaration. Join the movement to transform the UK cultural sector to one that is regenerative and just. Bring your passion, voice, skills and energy to work together to ensure social & environmental justice for everyone.

With COP26 looming, what is our next paradigm-shifting moment of action? What will you do?

Lucy Neal and Kay Michael are Co-founders of Culture Declares Emergency.
 culturedeclares.org