Webs of Life
Museo Aero Solar: for an Aerocene era
Tomás Saraceno at the Venice Biennale 2019
Acqua Alta: en Clave de Sol
Spider/Web Oracle Readings Program
“ON AIR live with…”
How to Entangle the Universe in a Spider Web
Stillness in Motion — Cloud Cities
On Space Time Foam
On the Roof: Cloud City
14 Billions (Working Title)
Avec qui venez-vous? Vinciane Despret in conversation with Tomás Saraceno
Up Close: Tomás Saraceno in conversation with Harriet A. Washington
Tomás Saraceno. Aria at Cinema Odeon
Beyond the Cradle 2019: Space and the Arts
Engadin Art Talks: Grace and Gravity
Galaxies Forming along Filaments, like Droplets along the Strands of a Spider’s Web
How to entangle the universe in a spider/web?
Arachnophilia Community Meeting with MIT Professor Markus J Buehler
Fly with Aerocene Pacha
Songs for the Air
Invertebrate Rights for “Down to Earth”
The Art of Noticing – Louisiana Channel Interviews Tomás Saraceno
How to hear the universe in a spider/web: A live concert for/by invertebrate rights
Spider/Web Pavilion 7
Art Basel Miami – Albedo | Hans Ulrich Obrist in conversation with Tomás Saraceno
On the Disappearance of Clouds
Sundial for Spatial Echoes
Webs of At-tent(s)ion
The Politics of Solar Rhythms: Cosmic Levitation
Living at the bottom of the ocean of air
Sounding the Air
Particular Matter(s) Jam Session
Tomás Saraceno’s Cloud Cities and Solar Balloon Travel – Interview with The Creators Project
Moving Beyond Materiality – MIT Visiting Artist Tomás Saraceno
A Thermodynamic Imaginary
Our Interplanetary Bodies
163,000 Light Years
Free the Air: Aerocene – Tomás Saraceno holds keynote speech at Herald Design Forum
Cosmic Jive: The Spider Sessions
Ring Bell — Solar Orchestra and the Wind Structures
Poetic Cosmos of the Breath
Tomás Saraceno: Event Horizon
02.06.2020 – 30.11.2021
An Event Horizon refers to a region of spacetime that marks a point of no return, when the gravitational pull makes any escape from a subsuming black hole impossible. As humans find themselves on the precipice of a point of no return on this planet, we should urgently learn to become, just like spider/webs, more sensitive to that which is at first glance unreadable and inaudible. This is to tune into, to pay at-tent(s)ion to the reverberations of cosmic events, to the guiding signals of non-humans, assembled as new tools for navigation. Which synaesthetic modes of perception do we need to re-sense the world we live with? Descending the stairs into Cisternerne, visitors watched as their shadow dissolved slowly into the surrounding darkness of engulfing echoes. Eyes waited to adjust, ears to wake up and movements to slow down: an invitation to enter the installation opened up channels of communication and sociality that border-cross between senses and species.
The current climate crisis is marked by a refiguration in the earth’s water. This element, essential to life, is responding to an atmosphere laden with the surge of human-made greenhouse gases. The ocean’s waters have expanded, glaciers and ice sheets have melted as a direct result of this warming climate. Sea levels have risen twenty-three centimeters since 1880, with almost half of that increase happening in the last twenty-five years. A thorough distribution of clean water is essential to a diverse assemblage of organisms and species. Yet, the erratic spread of water is at odds with sustainable futures. In flooded areas, water is abundant—and yet it is not potable, cannot be drunk, the life-giving properties we believe to be so basic to its character stripped from its essence. Floodwaters are transformed into poison, leaving wreckage in their wake. In Denmark, this threat is evidenced from multiple sources—not only from rising sea levels, estimated to rise up to seventy-five centimeters by 2100, but from heavy rains as well, which have caused flash floods, particularly in the country’s major cities. It is imperative that we find a way to change our actions, so that we stop changing the climate.
As we move into the future, what will our new normal be? In a world in which anthropogenic “natural” disasters run rampant, water often stands as foe more than friend, viral pandemics await at the ready, the answer may surprise us. It is time to try out new futures, new ways of movement—and in the art world, new ways to witness.
Have you ever navigated an exhibition by boat? Movement is different through water than on dry land. The boat lends itself naturally to the social distancing demanded of us now—antithetical to the crush of bodies we associate with openings, moving by boat inherently allows for distance, viewers moving together in units, slowly, witnessing their surroundings on nature’s own timeline.
We are standing at the edge of an Event Horizon, in more ways than one. Be it by flood or virus, the message from nature is clear—change is inevitable. What will our new normal be? Let it be harmonious, revolutionary. It is the only way we will survive.