Art is often thought of as a static concept… a painting, sculpture, or installation whose beauty is frozen in time, very much like the lovers painted in Keats’ Ode to a Grecian Urn. Yet if Van Gogh’s advice is to be heeded, and nature becomes the master, then art should, by nature, be fluid and evolving. But what if this idea could be taken even further? What if art could do its share to contribute to nature and give back a tiny fraction of so much that has been taken away from the planet’s land and oceans? This very idea is the driver behind the work of a unique artist – the English-Guyanese sculptor, environmentalist, and professional underwater photographer, Jason deCaires Taylor.
Taylor graduated from the London Institute of Arts in 1998 with a BA Honours in Sculpture, becoming the first of a new generation of artists to shift the concepts of the Land art movement into the realm of the marine environment. Over the past two decades, he has been one of the first artists to transform underwater realms into public art spaces and is best known for his numerous large-scale underwater museums and sculpture parks. His stunning sculptures are submerged in the waters surrounding numerous countries, including Mexico, Grenada, the UK, the Bahamas, the Maldives, Spain, Indonesia, Norway, France, Cyprus, and Australia.

To gain an understanding of the size, weight, and impact of his work, I suggest visiting his wonderful website, where you can view stills and videos of the many sculptures that now call the seabed home. They range from colossal faces (see the Cannes Underwater Eco-Museum in Île Sainte-Marguerite, France) to works featuring countless human figures lying together and forming a circle (Human Gyre, Museo Atlántico, Lanzarote, Spain). His art speaks of the powerful bond between human beings and the environment. The Human Gyre, for instance, begs us to consider the effect of plastic pollution on our oceans. A ‘gyre’ is a large system of rotating ocean currents, of which there are five in the world. However, the term is also used to refer to the collections of plastic waste and other debris found in higher concentrations in certain parts of the ocean.

Taylor is as much an environmental warrior as he is an artist. In our interview, he tells me that he chanced upon the idea of creating underwater sculptures while working as a diving instructor in the Caribbean. Indeed, few individuals other than divers and marine biologists are quite as aware of the devastating collapse currently faced by our oceans and marine ecosystems. Taylor’s website warns, “According to a study published in the journal Science, less than four per cent of the oceans remain unaffected by human activity. With a multitude of threats present, scientists are predicting a dramatic demise of 90 per cent of our natural reefs by 2050. Oceans and reefs are at the forefront of climate change – the canaries in the coal mine – and could be one of the first major ecosystems to be devastated by human activity.”

Another major threat is global warming, with The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change predicting that global sea levels may rise by as much as 69cm during the next 100 years. This phenomenon is already having a major impact on marine ecosystems, which, says Taylor, “are incredibly sensitive to small increases in temperature and can cause an El Niño effect, leading to the widespread bleaching of coral reefs.” Global warming leads to a rise in the number of tropical storms and hurricanes, which also devastate reef systems.

Then there are problems like ocean acidification, overfishing, pollution, and tourism impact. For instance, overfishing has led to an alarming decline in the number of numerous species that are key players in the underwater food chain. Methods like bottom trawling and dynamite fishing, he explains, are “the land equivalent of razing a forest to the ground… The removal of herbivorous fish, which normally graze on algae, is causing an abundance of algal blooms, which in turn transforms the ocean substrates, eventually smothering and destroying natural marine habitats and coral reefs.” Finally, we cannot ignore habitat loss caused by construction and development, the removal of vegetation, and other manmade stressors.

Many of Taylor’s artworks are placed in the ocean not just to serve as objects of beauty to behold but also as a means to create artificial reefs and, therefore, restore ecosystems. The works have a pH-neutral surface, similar to that of an inert rock that encourages life and evolves over time. Strains of white and pink coralline algae attach themselves to the sculptures, and eventually, a new reef is created. Taylor explains that when he visits installations from 15 years back, “I can barely recognise them…. They are covered in corals and surrounded by huge schools of fish. The more complex the sculpture is, the more fish live inside it.” In fact, many of his works have started a chain of events that foster the survival of numerous species. “In Norway, we installed a floating sculpture that became home to so many species – first came the oysters, and then the tunicates (commonly called sea squirts). Then, small fish began hiding under the structures. They, in turn, attracted the bigger fish like cod, as well as seagulls, who feasted on the oysters and mussels. More large-sized fish arrived, and finally, the biggest prey in this chain, the seals, began hunting the cod. From tiny species and shrimps all the way to an apex predator like the seal, the sculptures have given rise to a whole chain of life.”

One particularly impressive feature of his work is the bright colours of the different species that attach to it. “An artist always tried to find pigments that are true to natural colours, but some of the deepest, most vivid colours I’ve seen are those found underwater,” he says. One of the most marvellous colours is a deep blood-red, produced by a sponge that has attached to various sculptures. “It has veins and capillaries and has a translucent effect, like human skin,” Some species lend the sculptures movement. This is the case of tunicates, which attach upside-down, their filaments moving gracefully in the water.

The effect the sculptures have on the marine environment naturally necessitates the involvement of marine biologists, with whom Taylor collaborates closely. The size, shape, and texture of each sculpture have a big role to play in fostering ocean health, and every detail is customised depending on the environmental goal. He tells me, for instance, that in his sculpture in Norway, very small holes were created in the work so that juvenile cod could hide in them. “These holes have to be around six centimetres long,” he explains. Every sculpture has its own requirements since regional needs vary greatly.

When I recently spoke to Taylor, he was working on a piece for the island of Tokunoshima in the south of Japan. It is a 50-tonne sculpture of a pregnant woman, a subject that fits its new home so perfectly since, as he says, “the sea is the beginning of life. It is a womb, a nurturing place from which we all came millions of years ago.” His work was commissioned to help curb the problem of rural flight. “The island is known for its high birth rate and older population. Youths are moving to big cities, causing cultural and economic decline. My work is part of a strategy to instil local pride and involve more young people in the island’s cultural activities.”

Fascinatingly, Taylor funded all his own work in the beginning. “When I was a diving instructor in the Caribbean, I forged a good relationship with the government, and they allowed me to explore my own ideas and gave me free rein to create underwater sculptures. I realise now that if I had started somewhere like Australia or the UK, it would probably have been much more difficult because everything is so regulated. My earlier work was very experimental and was self-funded or made possible by small grants. Over the years, I managed to build up a body of work whose outcomes I could show to different countries.”

In the beginning, the artist moved from country to country, residing in the areas that housed his sculptures. Today, he has a studio near London. When a new project is commissioned, he travels to the area and makes decisions regarding the size, scheme, and design, finding inspiration from local references. The moulds for the sculptures are created at his UK studio and carefully exported to their destination in a container. “I fly out and put it all together,” he explains, adding that the works can take anywhere between six months to four years to create and install.

If you live in Spain and you’re keen to see Taylor’s work in person, head to the Museo Atlántico in Lanzarote, which is 12 metres deep. It was the first underwater museum in Europe, and it i s still the largest museum on the continent. Designed as a huge artificial reef, it comprises 10 different groups of sculptures, including The Rubicon – a group of 35 human figures walking towards a wall. The models used for these sculptures are residents of Lanzarote. Other famous works are the Raft of Lampedusa (a reference to the refugee crisis in Europe) and Los Jolateros (featuring children in boats who represent the fragile future faced by future generations). There are also several hybrid sculptures (half human, half cactus) depicting the intertwining of man and nature. Each piece is graced with deep symbolism; each is a cry for the need to protect the gifts that nature has bestowed upon us.