Article by Merlina Rañi (Art & Science Curator and Writer)
Abstract: In 2024, activists Phoebe Pummers and Ana Holland (members of the organization Just Stop Oil) were sentenced to two years in prison for their controversial action at the National Gallery in 2022. This article analyzes the significance of this action within the intersection of art and activism it proposed, encompassing institutional critique, symbolic impact, and the mediation of discourse.
Tomato soup dripped over the protective glass of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers at the National Gallery as 21-year-old Phoebe Pummers articulated the urgency of acting against hydrocarbon consumption. The question, “Is art worth more than life?” resonated in the gallery and across social media, sparking widespread discomfort. This act, as controversial as it was symbolic, encapsulates the inherent tensions between art and activism.
Where Do Artistic Practice and Activism Intersect?
The case of Just Stop Oil offers a perspective from activism toward art. Their action at the National Gallery (among others) left behind questions about the limits of institutional aesthetics and their connection to values like justice, crucial to understanding the relationship between these two forms of knowledge production.
The intervention was criticized by those who defended the sanctity of art and those who questioned the effectiveness of such disruptive actions. However, one thing is clear: artistic institutions are not exempt from responsibility for current global issues. On the contrary, they play an essential role in shaping the social code, acting as spaces that set agendas, connect artistic work with communities, and mediate between its aesthetic power and the system in which it is embedded.
The fact that institutions manage the symbolic production of art based on the systems that sustain them transforms artists and cultural actors into subjects of their circuits. Thus, institutions have the capacity to produce subjectivity and discourse. In this sense, the “where” and “how” of art’s distribution are key elements for any critical practice.
The act of throwing soup on an iconic artwork exemplifies the dynamics between art and politics. By attacking a revered painting, the activists challenged the order of priorities and values upheld by these institutions, stating that the logics they reproduce contribute to an unsustainable future.
Although art is not restricted to museums, it is important to understand where the agendas that govern its production originate and the context of its circuits. Clarifying this landscape can serve as a meeting point between art and activism, raising questions such as: Can art address climate crisis and global inequality without becoming a functional tool of the system it critiques? Or, who is art for: the community or the institutions that shape its subjectivity?
Just Stop Oil
Should Artists Be Activists?
The debate over whether artists should take on an activist role brings many questions to light. It is a kind of rhetoric that pushes us into the challenging task of finding the autonomy of disciplines, where more questions arise, such as “Is there political art and non-political art?” These questions force us to renew definitions. History has shown that art has the power to spotlight social issues. Examples like Diego Rivera’s murals, Marc Lombardi’s drawings and Mona Hatoum’s installations or performances demonstrate that art can be a catalyst for change, capable of staging and generating meaning around pressing issues. However, there is a deeper consideration: the condition of being an artist is often too specific to address problems that belong to society as a whole. Whether an engineer, a history teacher, a grocery store owner, or an artist becomes an activist, it is equally significant. At the same time, this is first a personal choice that can be applied to their work.
From a certain perspective, art can transcend the repetitive discourses of power, but it depends substantially on the material conditions of its sociopolitical context. Faced with the emergence of a concrete crisis that surpasses the media thermometer, it seems necessary to escalate personal decisions into collective efforts, whether in the professional realm or as a political demand.
In this sense, artistic practice has the flexibility to articulate perspectives and knowledge, as well as the power to imprint images on the collective mind. While there are various ways to conceptualize the intersection between art and activism—from the sustainability of practices to social work and the visibility of issues—the key is that artistic practice can create fertile ground for imagination and thought. However, this space depends on its freedom from restrictions imposed by morality, the technical language of dissemination, or institutionalization. If its freedom is compromised, it risks becoming demagogic or empty discourse.
This challenge presents artists with the task of finding circuits, choosing battles, and preserving both the authenticity of their intentions and the sovereignty of their strategies. While the ethical rigor implicit in the “activist” label can become impractical due to factors like economic limitations or inevitable participation in the very system being critiqued, it is still valid as a creative process.
Choosing a politically committed artistic practice is challenging, but this challenge ultimately transcends art. It is part of everyday life, occurring at different scales and in various realms, and it cuts across society as a whole. Such commitment may not be the central theme for all artists, yet it influences and shapes their creative resources or even their way of thinking. Ultimately, what defines the relationship between art and activism is the decision to bring that commitment to the forefront, considering artistic production as part of a system of relations that includes society at large and its political framework. This factor not only challenges institutions but also art workers and audiences.
Representation and Agency: Future Intersections Between Art and Activism
Activism demands devotion, a willingness to face criticism and rejection from conservative sectors, as well as the consequences of civil disobedience. Meanwhile, art requires the creative effort to achieve a language of its own, under the looming danger of being subsumed by its own circulation system. The intersection of these practices creates an interplay between body and language that often involves sacrifice and the risk of being co-opted by institutional machinery. Problems that both art workers and the institutional body must work to resolve.
In Stella Succi’s text Art or Life, she asserts, “Neglecting the interpretative complexity of iconoclastic actions represents a missed opportunity for institutional self-criticism, all the more so when these gestures raise issues such us the ecological emergency, which has become central to museum practice, at least according to the most recent ICOM (International Council of Museums) definition of a museum.”[1] The ICOM definition published in 2022 emphasizes sustainability but makes no reference to the 38 attacks on artworks recorded that year.
While the relationship between these events and institutional decisions may be speculative, it is evident that activist actions exert pressure on public debate. These symbolic operations, which entail high costs for activists, can also drive the public to demand greater institutional commitment to the multiple crises we face, both in the material sense of sustainability and in its discursive role.
For art to be an emancipatory exercise, it is essential to rethink its relationship with the institutions that house it. Any art agent who wishes to address the issues of our time must consider how their actions might perpetuate or challenge existing structures.
[1] Succi, S. (2024). Art or life?. In Museums at the ecological turn (pp. 76-94). AMACI & Nero.
