Butterflies and caterpillars in technological environments: Björk’s & Aleph’s ‘Nature Manifesto’
‘Nature Manifesto’
by Björk & Aleph
« it is an emergency
the apocalypse has already happened
and how we will act now is essential
after the mass extinction
we will start anew
our old comfort is gone
we will parade with mutated crickets in glowing radio-active harvests
migrate with wildebeests
amongst endangered orangutans
a new world
with an emergence of assemblages
and rhizomatic entanglements
with the altered voice of a beluga
and a dna-morphed seal
we will settle in sound fields of mosquitoes
we will find sensory reci-procity
in all ecological connective tissues
in a pioneering sound-strata
of mutant peacocks, bees, and lemurs
biology will reassemble in new ways
and micro-organisms will mate with other life-forms to heal and adapt
in fruiting bodies
and fields of sensory information
the web of life will unfold into a world of new solutions
as basalt columns absorb carbon
or as a lyrebird becomes a chainsaw
life wins
with or without us
after plagues and pandemics
there will be new modes of existence
of weaving our bodies into relations with our surroundings
of decomposing our old ways of life
and escape the feedback loop
with metabolic ingenuity
the howl of our biological ancestry
repossessed by animal spirits
we remedy lost bird calls
out of niche-replacements
amongst a tapestry of beings
a new bio-diversity is reached
we will terraform the planet
in a deep morpho-genesis
from an animist volcanic island
we will revel at doppler-effect dolphins speeding by
unseen wonders blooming
hyphean enigmatic entities
the memory of our genes
will form a call to action
mold a new paris climate accord
this time reachable
reach
let’s reach it »
the howl of our biological ancestry
In October 2024 a new type of butterfly species was discovered on the East Coast of the US. The yellow-coloured Pterourus bjorkae, with dark patterns and orange spots, is named in honour of Icelandic environmental activist, singer, songwriter, composer, record producer, music and fashion collaborator, actress and DJ Björk Guðmundsdóttir.[1] While the butterfly adopted her name, Björk took over the iconic Centre Pompidou ‘Chenille’, or ‘Caterpillar’: the huge mechanical escalator, designed to serve as a vertical outdoor path and primary artery, serving all levels and transporting the public upwards.
In the immersive sound piece and multimedia installation Nature Manifesto, Björk invites visitors to reconsider their role in preserving life on Earth. Curated by Aleph Molinari and Chloé Siganos, the piece inscribes Björk’s voice reading the manifesto with calls of extinct or endangered animals, harmonising with natural soundscapes. The mental landscape is produced in collaboration with the Institut de Recherche et Coordination Acoustique/Musique (IRCAM) and AI models, resonating a story of ecological urgency. Exhibited far away from nature in the metropolis of Paris, Björk wants to build a sonic bridge between the visitors and the vitality of these creatures and their environments. Rejecting the pessimistic vision of a post-apocalyptic future, she urges visitors to embrace an era of ‘post-optimism’ – a resilient future where plants and humans intertwine and evolve together. This sense of optimism and faith comes out of the poetic snippets and visuals shared by Björk, Aleph, and 3D animation artist Sam Balfus (Balfua) on social media, showing a figure in a white dress moving through a forest, while Bjork says: ‘In pioneering sound strata of mutant peacocks, bees, and lemurs, biology will assemble in new ways.’ (Fig. 1)
Fig. 1: Instagram post by Björk: https://www.instagram.com/bjork/reel/DCR0JKSoO-E/. 12 November 2024.
An escalator in the heart of Paris, an immersive sound installation created through IRCAM and AI, and animated forests shared across social media – what makes Nature Manifesto a compelling work for a manifesto on nature? Through the lens of ecological urgency, technology, and sound art, Nature Manifesto links to hyperobjects, affectology, and ecocriticism. It wants to analyse how technological advancements serve as a tool for narrating ecological urgency, but do these technological elements serve a positive purpose in advancing the message of ecological urgency, or do they complicate the artwork’s ethical stance?
Fig. 2: DAZED, 2015.
hyper-ballad
Influenced by the nature she grew up in in Iceland in 1965, Björk has always felt a deep sensitivity to the living world and the interweaving of nature and technology. In her music she explores the relationship between nature, technology, and humanity, and her deep commitment to preserving the natural world through art and activism. Björk’s advocacy aligns with Timothy Morton’s notion of the hyperobject.[2]
Disrupting
fixed or linear
models of space and time, hyperobjects are massively-distributed entities – such as the biosphere, climate change, and global warming – that are too expansive to be directly perceived or fully understood, yet with large consequences.
In Nature Manifesto, a hyperobject quality known as ‘molten’ emphasises how music can convey positive meaning.[3] The installation aims to create an ‘experience space’ by oscillating visitors through various interrelations of different entities.
Weaving together six floors of the museum, Nature Manifesto turns a place of passage into a multi-layered system of references for a post-optimistic future. While traversing up or down the escalator, which guides the visitor towards different narratives within other exhibitions, it is the combination of Björk’s voice reading the manifesto, harmonising with noises from extinct or endangered animals, giving a voice to silent nature, transforming its quietude into sound and resonating within our collective imagination. The sound emanates from speakers positioned along the sides and top of the plastic tube housing the escalator, replaying the three-minute manifesto continuously.
The visitor is bathed in green lightning installed on the sides of the escalator (Figs 3, 4). In the ridge of the space, where there is no access to other exhibition areas and the escalator only leads back down, Björk’s dialogue fades into the background. The cries of extinct and endangered animals blend with an uplifting soundscape, featuring major chords and complemented by a panoramic view of the Paris skyline. In the ridge, the soundscape and site-specificity work well together. Rather than separating itself from the space of its presentation, not only do the architectural – and metaphorical – features of the caterpillar, but also the view of Paris, enhance the goal of Nature Manifesto, entangling different entities and ‘reassembling biology in new ways’. This is emphasised even more by the imminent closing of the Centre Pompidou due to a five-year renovation project. Literally ‘making the space a chrysalis that will be embodied with the sound of the past and the promise of important mutations in the future’, as curator Chloé Siganos explains.[4]
Figs 3, 4: Escalator, Centre Pompidou. Photos by the author.
The exhibition design is directly tied to the traditional function of the Chenille. While the soundscape is intriguing, the escalator as a place of passage dominates. Visitors are often taking in one floor at a time, with not enough time to interact with the entire soundscape. Moreover, traveling between floors and in anticipation of the next exhibition, visitors likely do not get fully immersed. However, Nature Manifesto does suit the Chenille well. This argumentation is twofold.
First, Nature Manifesto is mainly reliant on sound. As the manifesto travels with the escalator – as an object of passage – it emphasises the move from single objects towards ecologies, from a single object of attention towards a multiplicity of viewpoints, or from the body towards others. Thereby describing the very relational, spatial, and temporal nature of sound itself. In this sense Nature Manifesto moves towards the dematerialised potential of events, actions, ideas, ephemera, and the politics inherent to space. Second, the varying ways in which visitors experience the sound piece reflects a dynamic and healthy biodiversity within a system of growth and decay. Some may engage with it only briefly, seamlessly integrating it into their journey through other exhibition narratives, while others might choose full immersion – ascending to the very ridge of the Chenille before traveling back down to absorb the complete manifesto. This fluid engagement highlights the manifesto’s openness to multiple interpretations and levels of participation.
and rhizomatic entanglements
Nature Manifesto is created using technological advancements and AI. Next to incorporating a ‘black box’ of complexity, it raises important questions about how to approach the growing synergy between technology and ecology. Looking closely at a section from Nature Manifesto:
a new world
with an emergence of assemblages
and rhizomatic entanglements
with the altered voice of a beluga
and a dna-morphed seal
we will settle in sound fields of mosquitoes
we will find sensory reci-procity
in all ecological connective tissues
in a pioneering sound-strata
of mutant peacocks, bees, and lemurs
This highlights how assemblages are networks which produce, shape, and experience sound, often emphasising the interconnected and fluid relationships between human and non-human actors. Indeed, sound can render interdependencies that can confront listeners with the invisibility of which they are part. Sound does not exist within a vacuum: the technological components, spatial factors, human listeners, environmental elements, cultural and social influences all influence how Nature Manifesto produces meaning.[5]
Resisting hierarchical structures and embracing multiplicity and interconnectedness, Nature Manifesto resonates with media studies scholar Marie-Luise Angerer’s idea of a permeable, dynamic system where sentience and agency are distributed across all matter, and where human and non-human entities coexist in a constantly shifting web of relations.[6] In this model, the individual is not central; instead, it is the network of connections – of intra-actions – that shapes our understanding of agency, perception, and existence. Reflecting Angerer’s notion of ‘affectology’ as a lens to understand our relationship with technology and ecology in a world where humans are no longer the dominant force, such a reimagining of a new narrative calls for a new way of thinking about ecology and technology – not as separate realms, but as a rhizomatic, intra-active system where all entities sense, influence, and evolve together.
we will parade with mutated crickets in glowing radio-active harvests
Research in ecocriticism is often based on the establishment of the natural world in direct opposition to the urban environment. In this dichotomy, the urban environment is characterised as the destructive, alienating, unnatural world in which the human is completely detached from nature.[7] Building on Angerer’s argumentation that natural and technological agencies are deeply entangled, reappraisals of ecological significance are being ascribed to urban landscapes, reminding city dwellers of our placements within ecosystems and the importance of understanding urban life and culture.[8]
Exhibiting Nature Manifesto in the Pompidou supports this idea: using a contemporary art museum, with a view upon a classic metropole such as Paris to create a more positive role for humankind, emphasising their connection with animals. Björk acknowledged the challenges of situating her work within the ‘machinic’ architecture of Centre Pompidou: the plastic tubes, metallic structures, and escalators seem to counter her environmental concerns.[9] Yet, this environment also reinforces the exhibition’s thematic concerns – being a reminder to urban dwellers of our entanglement within ecosystems, rather than positioning humanity in opposition to nature.
In line with this collaboration, ecocriticism has also begun to explore cultural portrayals of human technology as a positive ecological force, engaging with ‘restorationist’ practices or ‘ecomusicology’. The latter being the case for Nature Manifesto, in which the voices of extinct animals are brought back. However, the intended sense of collaboration with the animals could easily escape the visitor, unless one is already familiar with the manifesto’s conceptual framework. Without prior knowledge, the immersive potential of this exchange risks being lost, leaving the experience more awkward than visceral. Similarly, while advocating for a post-optimistic future, the manifesto’s reliance on technology – including AI and the restoration of extinct animal voices – brings inherent contradictions. The manifesto engages with themes such as radioactivity harvests and resource exploitation, which, in turn, lead to further environmental degradation, but the use of AI in the project risks deepening these environmental crises it aims to address, as it necessitates the extraction of natural resources, exacerbating resource depletion and contributing to the extinction of species.
This critique resonates with T.J. Demos’ examination of art exhibitions involving environmentalism, in which he argues that efforts to address climate change through exhibitions can inadvertently contribute to the very issues they aim to solve. Demos, however, acknowledges the urgency of such exhibitions, as they facilitate research into solutions while also engaging the public.[10] With the dawn of artificial intelligence and other resource-intensive technologies in artworks like Nature Manifesto, it becomes uncertain whether these works can truly act as positive forces. The exploitation caused by the materials and technologies used might overshadow the ecological message, creating a tension between the work’s intention and its environmental impact. While Björk has addressed the role of artificial intelligence in Nature Manifesto, and acknowledged the recurring pessimism that often accompanies emerging technologies, she takes a more nuanced stance, by emphasising that the ethical implications of AI must be examined on multiple levels – social, personal, and political – rather than reducing the debate to a simple binary of acceptance or rejection. She frames AI as a continuous process, one that demands critical engagement rather than definitive conclusions.[11]
In parts of the piece, IRCAM employed what is described as ‘frugal’ AI – supposedly consuming the same amount of energy as a Google search – though not all AI usage within the work adheres to this principle. As artificial intelligence becomes increasingly embedded in everyday life, it is imperative to cultivate an ongoing, critical curiosity about how to develop more ethical and sustainable technological practices within contemporary society. Nature Manifesto ventures an active sense of participation, suggesting that we are part of the narrative. Using AI to address ecological concerns, the key of the installation’s success lies in using the technology with a moral compass. AI is seen as another tool that will be woven into the fabric of our daily lives, and rather than avoiding it, we should focus on educating ourselves about its moral use. While this technical advancement undoubtedly raises questions around automation and artistic consent, Nature Manifesto feels like an example of the technology being employed responsibly, allowing it to explore urgent ecological themes without compromising its ethical grounding.
of weaving our bodies into relations with our surroundings
While I was on the escalator, my mind was not thinking about these connections to hyperobjects, affectology, and ecocriticism. Nature Manifesto has a plotline – one that grows increasingly optimistic – but the plot itself feels secondary. I realised that the plot is not the medium for bringing the message to its visitors. You move up and down the escalator until what begins as language transforms into resonance. The words are just ways to access an emotion, a meaning, a feeling. The purest form is the sound itself – the shape that the sound makes in the constantly transforming space around you, or the way it presses inward as the surrounding weight of the structure closes in, like in the ridge of the Chenille. It is the sound that is important in the space, the eerie, chaotic cries of endangered and extinct animals, yet articulating a positive future.
This optimism is not meant to be captured in words – much like a warm home cannot be expressed in bricks – but is rather transmitted through presence, through the sheer force of belief which is embodied in the performer.
Elina Doodeman (Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam)
References
Angerer, M. Ecology of affect: Intensive milieus and contingent encounters. meson press, 2017.
Andrews, G. ‘Björk to Morton to Aphex Twin: Music as a Positive Hyperobject’, New Zealand Geographer, Vol. 80, 2, 2024: 117-122; https://doi.org/10.1111/nzg.12399.
DAZED. ’Björk’s Letters with Timothy Morton’, 2015: https://www.dazeddigital.com/music/gallery/20196/3/bjork-s-letters-with-timothy-morton (accessed on 3 December 2024).
Demos, T. ‘The Politics of Sustainability: Art and Ecology’ in Radical nature: Art and architecture for a changing planet 1969-2009, edited by F. Manacorda. London: Barbican Art Gallery, 2009: 16-30.
Gilmurray, J. ‘Ecology and Environmentalism in Contemporary Sound Art’, doctoral dissertation, University of the Arts London, 2018.
LaBelle, B. ‘Auditory Relations’ in The sound studies reader, edited by J. Sterne. London-New York: Routledge, 2003: 468-474.
Morton, T. Hyperobjects: Philosophy and ecology after the end of the world. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2013.
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Schafer, R. ‘The Soundscape’ in The sound studies reader, edited by J. Sterne. London-New York: Routledge, 2003: 95-103.
Voegelin, S. ‘Sonic Epistemologies: Confrontations with the Invisible’, Open Philosophy, 7, 1, 2024: 1-13; https://doi.org/10.1515/opphil-2024-0002.
Waite, T. ‘Björk: The Apocalypse Has Already Happened… But We Have to Go Forward’, DAZED, 3 December 2024: https://www.dazeddigital.com/music/article/65618/1/bjork-apocalypse-has-already-happened-nature-manifesto-pompidou-aleph-molinari (accessed on 8 February 2025).
1 Pavulaan 2024.
2 Morton 2013.
3 Andrews 2024.
4 Waite 2024.
5 Schafer 2003.
6 Angerer 2017.
7 Gilmurray 2018.
8 Angerer 2017.
9 Waite 2024.
10 Demos 2009.
11 Waite 2024.