Take a Dive into Caribbean Waters: Seascape Poetics

    When I think of the Caribbean ocean, the picturesque scene of white sandy beaches, sparsely dotted with palm trees, and a turquoise blue ocean that stretches into the sky, is the default image that comes to mind. Tourists in bathing suits and sun hats leave trails of footprints in the sand, to be washed away when waves gently lap at the shore. Yet, I don’t think it odd that the identity of an entire area is defined by the people who visit from other countries. What of the locals? More importantly, who are the locals? By exploring the artworks in Seascape Poetics, we form an understanding of why this exclusion of locals exists, and get a picture of what life in the Caribbean is like outside of tourist spots. 

    Bettina Pérez Martinez is the curator of the virtual exhibit Seascape Poetics. Utilizing 3d imagery and 360 degree images, we are taken to that very picturesque seaside. Clicking through the images takes us into a cabin, along the beach, and even under the waves, to view the various artworks Martinez has chosen to exhibit. Like a museum, the exhibited works - all made by contemporary Caribbean artists - each have some text describing the context of the work and briefly explain its intended meaning. Audio commentary by Martinez and her assistant, Simone Cambridge, are also available. With these resources at hand, it is easier for us as the viewer to interpret the message of the exhibition as a whole, rather than the meaning of each individual work.

Jack, Deborah. Still from Drawn by Water. 2018

    Within the cabin are two video works, Drawn by Water (2018) by Deborah Jack and Labadee (2017) by Jiori Minaya. The first is highly contemporary in nature, featuring a rumbling audio track overlaid on images of waves crashing against the shores of Caribbean beaches and the Netherlands. This greyscale video is the subtle jab that cracks the preconceived image we may have of the Caribbean islands. The lack of color makes the two normally visually distinct shorelines ambiguous, a reminder that the Netherlands had once been a colonizer, bringing the two areas under its rule. Moreover, having this black and white piece presented first helps us break away from the image of white sands and turquoise waters. Labadee is the second hit in this one-two punch that shatters the idea that the Caribbean is only a tourist playground. Taking the form of a documentary style video, it depicts the lives of locals amidst tourists. Despite the area being their home, the locals are not allowed into the tourist grounds, kept out by a barbed wire fence as though they were a liability. Those who do appear on the grounds have paid a fee to do business there, yet often make no profits, as the tourists’ needs are covered by the cruise line that brought them there. Even in the era of post-colonialism, the locals, whose ancestors were shipped here during the slave trade, seem to be outsiders in the land they’ve grown up in. The ethics of tourism is brought in question; should tourism exist if it brings little, if any, benefit to the local population? There is almost a kind of sinful aspect to how Caribbean tourism is viewed compared to, say, European tourism. People are there to laze and gorge in a walled-off paradise; there is little desire to understand the origin or culture.

    The next two works, Flood Aftermath (2020) by Lionel Cruet and Transformations 1 (2014) by Nadia Huggins, are still images, presented on the beach, and under the water. Starting with Flood Aftermath, it is most intriguing to see its medium, acrylic and house paint on polyethylene tarp. The tarp, provided by rescue efforts to Puerto Rico in the aftermath of hurricane Maria to temporarily cover damaged roofs, ended up becoming a permanent solution, as the government subsequently appeared to abandon further rescue and restoration efforts. The medium, and the dilapidated homes painted on the tarps, not only speak of the lost sense identity of Puerto Ricans - cared not for by their local government or the US government that they are supposedly also governed by - but also how they are at the mercy of the ocean. In Transformations 1, a pair of photographs depicts a person’s face against a sea urchin crawling along the skeletal remains of a dead coral reef. The previous relationship is reversed; the ocean is drastically impacted by human actions. By being submerged in water in this part of the exhibition, just as the subjects in the photos are, we are brought all the closer to understanding the intimate relationship Caribbean islanders have with the ocean and its ecosystem. 

Cruet, Lionel. Flood Aftermath. 2020.

    It is in the pattern of criticality that the exhibit continues, breaking apart old knowledge, and attempting to amend that with something new. Our typical assumption of a tropical paradise has been stripped down, and the struggles of the local peoples, at the mercy of cruise lines, their government, and nature, has been brought to the forefront of our new image of the Caribbean islands. Now, with our knowledge freshly melted down like molten metal, the remaining two works, Virtual ISLANDS (2019) by Olivia McGilchrist, and Mouth to Mouth (2020) by Jeffrey Meris, will need to re-forge our understanding into a different form. Virtual ISLANDS is a video work, adapted from a VR presentation. The video shows land and water mixed together such that it is difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins. As the video proceeds, code, flowcharts, and unintelligible notes appear in the imagery, as though this virtual world were breaking apart and we were seeing the scribblings of an intelligent creator of the world, indifferent to our confusion. This work, despite being intentionally obscure, neatly brings together several of the previously exhibited ideas. An intimate connection to the ocean, the sense of lost identity as we float between one unknown place to another, and the apparent control of a higher power - in this case the United States - that is more interested in its own designs than providing tangible aid. The last work, Mouth to Mouth, a sculpture made of steel and plastic bottles, is a memorial for the drowned victims of a capsized Haitian migrant ship heading for America. The bottles, once filled with water, now with air, represent the lungs of the victims, once filled with air, now drowned with water. By bringing us morbidly close to the fate of these migrants, we are not only reminded that they are as human as we are, but that they are desperate enough to take a treacherous voyage to an unwelcoming land. 

Meris, Jeffrey. 3D rendering of Mouth to Mouth sculpture. 2020

    Martinez has curated an exhibit that is as easy as possible for a viewer to re-evaluate any preconceptions of the Caribbean area and its people. By nature of the flow of the virtual exhibit, each work is presented in the order they are meant to, with no opportunity to deviate from this path. It's a pedagogical work, which aims to make us understand the lack of national identity the Caribbean islanders possess. They are made strangers in their own land, and uncared for by those who govern them. It seems to be the fate of the colonized to be exploited and forgotten. In this case, their very people are covered over by advertisements of a lush, tropical getaway so often that we may forget that they exist. To treat the Caribbean peoples with respect, to travel in a way that benefits them instead of American cruise lines, could eventually bring the wealth and stability the area needs so that they can deal with the aftermath of tropical storms, or not need to voyage on a rickety boat. 

Works Cited

Martínez, Bettina Pérez. Seascape Poetics. CaPSL at Concordia University, 2021, https://seascapepoetics.com/. Accessed 16, April 2021.