Our world is experiencing an environmental crisis largely fuelled by physical waste. Most households generate 13.8 million tonnes of municipal solid waste – better known as your everyday garbage – in a single year, according to the 2018 National Waste Report.
When we are aware of the damage waste causes to the environment, where does this leave us when it comes to the physical production of artworks? As an arts community, how can we continue to achieve the powerful benefits art brings to its practitioners and audiences – but in a way that places environmental sustainability at the forefront?
For some artists and designers in Australia, the answer may be hidden in the selection of sustainable materials or the innovative repurposing of products destined for landfill.
In Paul Yore’s works, for instance, we can see upcycling on overdrive, as the artist sources old plastic toys and sex dolls to build an immersive sociopolitical shrine. On the more organic side, the controversial Mike Parr repurposes human waste to use as core materials in his exhibitions – one such exhibit featured 70 buckets of urine. Melbourne’s Colourful Collective has even held performances displaying excessive quantities of plastic rubbish, some of which they found buried in a backyard.
But, larger exhibitions and live performances aside, we must also consider the environmental impact of the production of artworks designed for everyday use, and which people bring into their homes.
Intimacy in repurposed materials
Tasmanian jeweller Emma Bugg is one such designer who takes an inventive approach to her smaller-scale works. She has used Triassic-age sandstone, created a setting for rescued sapphires that were no longer loved, and even crafted a memento pendant containing human ashes.
In the works featuring in her latest exhibition Explorations in Concrete, Bugg used horse hair, found objects, and shells – repurposing materials produced in nature, rather than purchasing synthetics for her designs.
Bugg produces her art in small batches; and has spent about a decade specialising in concrete, working to a scale that she says produces ‘next to no waste’. She sometimes embeds unconventional objects into her designs, including sentimental materials supplied or sourced by her clients.
‘One natural product I enjoy using is cuttlefish, which I used as a material to cast metal into,’ Bugg said.
‘I offer a special experience where people can make their own wedding bands. I send them out on an adventure to source the cuttlefish found on certain beaches in Tasmania, and the cuttlefish is carved out to become the mould for their rings.’
Bugg finds value in bringing her clients into this sustainable production, and her works therefore become vessels for material and memory alike.
While Bugg generally selects materials based on her ethos and aesthetic, and her process is influenced largely by ‘ancient concrete methods’, the result is nevertheless the creation of lower-waste and wearable art.
‘Once it’s set in the form, I’d like to think that it will retain value as an object over time – and not become waste – by “trapping” it in the jewellery.’
Though Bugg confessed she’d be ‘more financially successful’ if she outsourced her jewellery designs, she finds efficiency in the way she handles her studio’s waste: ‘The scrap metal I accumulate is sent back to the factory and exchanged for credit for my next purchase.’
Additionally, Bugg packages her designs in recycled card, and stores them in reusable plastic containers. She has even reduced her waste when ordering metals by requesting the company deliver them to her in paper instead of plastic wrap – ‘and was pleasantly surprised when they obliged’.
When asked whether or not artists can truly be zero-waste in their practices, Bugg gave a thoughtful response: ‘Art is such a broad spectrum, but in theory I suppose the most sustainable form of art is performance-based art, where the person is the product and nothing is left behind.’
Of course, one might speculate the potential for waste even in performance art – packaging and plastics from make-up and costumes; fuel used by those driving to attend the performance; and even printed tickets, or food and beverage waste at the event.
However, Bugg advised fellow artists and designers to be ‘mindful of what we use, bring awareness to sustainability in practice, and use art as a tool to educate’. And it’s precisely this environmental consciousness that can serve as a step towards waste-free creative practices.
Sustainable choices for arts makers
Lauren and Oberon Carter are two of Australia’s leading names in the zero-waste community, having authored A Family Guide to Waste-Free Living and founded Zero Waste Tasmania. Yet they too understand the value in collecting objects of art and design – and inside their Tasmanian home can be found works produced by family and friends, as well as second-hand pieces.
‘We choose artworks that we’ll be happy to have in our home for a long time,’ Lauren Carter said.
It’s this mindful selection of objects that helps contribute to Lauren and Oberon living ‘completely waste and recycling free since 2015’.
‘We’ve learned that waste infiltrates every aspect of our lives, so working to avoid it can create lots of new habits that benefit the environment and community.’
But for creators of art, Lauren acknowledges that avoiding damaging materials – particularly in the production of sculptures and paintings or wall arts – ‘can be tricky’.
‘Better choices might include non-toxic and petroleum-free materials, or materials that are not single-use,’ she recommends.
‘This needs to be balanced with using materials that will maintain the integrity and longevity of the artwork, so seeking to leave minimal waste products in the production of the artwork is important.’
When curating a sustainable art studio, the ability to compost or upcycle the packaging should also be considered. Well-informed decisions about how to repurpose or dispose of art supplies such as tubes for paint, old brushes and metal scraps can help make a positive impact.
Of course, as Lauren advises, local councils or waste transfer facilities may be able to offer suggestions about disposal.
Aware of their impressive zero-waste lifestyle, I wondered whether Lauren felt the production of art – including its benefit to the artist, and the joy of the final product – outweighs the risk of waste.
Interestingly, Lauren is herself a designer and, with Oberon, a head gardener at Spiral Garden – an initiative which in part features an online store packed with art and craft supplies such as organic beeswax crayons, refillable wooden pens, and notebooks made with recycled paper.
‘Art has always been important to humans,’ Lauren explains.
‘That said, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to justify an excessive use of harmful materials in certain artworks. These materials are usually finite, so should be used sparingly.’
If you’re not one to get your hands dirty and make your own art, but still enjoy collecting or gifting it, a conversation with the artist you admire can reveal the way they incorporate sustainable practices into their studio.
After deciding to purchase their work of art, Lauren recommended displaying the piece appropriately so it doesn’t quickly degrade, and then disposing of it effectively at its end-of-life.
Even if you’re not an artist, you can still inject your own creativity into the challenge of a zero-waste goal.
‘I once had a large canvas I’d made that had not been correctly stored and unfortunately had some mould and irreparable damage,’ Lauren confesses.
‘So we removed the canvas and reused the frames to make our first chicken coop!’
At the end of the day, Lauren believed, it’s about how we can ‘best work in harmony with nature’ as we move forward together.
