The Seven Rituals of a Glimmering Sea
Royal College of Art
2023 - 2024
This proposal brings together a collection of active spaces, fluid follies, as a way to re-establish lost rituals on the island of Gotland in Sweden, taken away by domineering algae blooms in the Baltic Sea.
Continuing to develop from previous research in term one, I delved deeper into ecologies that thrive on, what we refer to as, toxicity, altering the dynamics of ecosystems. This then drew my attention to the Baltic Sea where algae blooms multiply, creating an area known as the world’s largest dead zone.
Dotted around Gotland Island are historic Fishing Stations that were originally used by farmers twice a year when they lent their hand to fishing. As fish populations declined, because of hypoxia and overfishing, by the 19th century fishing stations were no longer used for their original purpose and have now become tourist attractions and B&B’s. This has had subsequent effects on the rituals of people on the island. From rituals of travel and gathering to the intimate of tying rope and preparing to bathe. The water body has shifted human actions and building use.
Developed from this research, my proposal aims to re-establish both this lost ritual of life at the fishing stations, moving to and from land and sea, and propose new rituals that can harness a renewed love for the ever-evolving sea. Seven follies will act as catalysts for these rituals, bearing closeness to the futhark alphabet. Through interaction with the sea they will become activated at varied moments of the algae bloom cycle. By utilising the developing process of algae harvesting for bio-fertiliser, the current rituals celebrated on Gotland Island can be incorporated with the newly established rituals aligned with the algae blooms.
Bringing together these ever-shifting follies in the media of film, I used the broader meaning of phosphorus as a reference to the control is has on the island. In Ancient Greek, Phosphorus was the god of the planet Venus appearing as the ‘Morning Star’, in the sense of light-bringing. This influenced the atmosphere of the film, using lightness and darkness as ways to guide the story.
The Folktale
A time before today, this ocean body breathed with the rise and fall of nature’s elapsing cycles; inhaling the solar, exhaling the lunar. Glimmering waters of a kind sustained its power. The island of Gotland was once entangled in this force; dry land at night and a submerged Atlantis come daybreak.
In a far land, a discovery is taking place. The origins of life itself. Phosphorus, the light bringer, the morning star, the torch bearer, is extracted from the lively soils and multiplied within her rhythmic cycle of life-giving. A change occurs, she begins extracting life from some to provide life for others. But she is not to blame, there are puppet-masters at work and her hands are tied.
Seeping from the peripheries of the ocean body, the island of Gotland sits defenceless. They start to sense the unbalance of phosphorus’ presence, the dissipating life, the swirling clouds. There’s nothing they can do but surrender to the morning star.
As the island adjusts to their new way of being, something conjures in the shadows. Not yet seen, not yet heard but a mourning for loss presents itself in the crevices of Gotland. The loss of ritual, taken away by the overarching forces at play in the surrounding waters. The rituals of travel; the rituals of productivity; the rituals of patience; the rituals of feasting; the rituals of gathering; the rituals of resting. The people of the island mourn their changed livelihoods.
Some time ago, a farmer from the highlands of Gotland travelled to a fishing station at the tip of the island to gather with fellow companions. They exchanged tales of joy about their momentary lives at sea and decide to take a fishing boat out into the water. As they approached the shoreline, they noticed blue-green swirls dancing in the water. Thinking this as strange though harmless, they continued their voyage into the open sea, however, they caught not one fish that day. The green swirling cloud had eaten up all the oxygen that the fish survive on. The farmers returned to the shore disappointed and as time went on they stopped visiting the fishing station. They grew saddened by the loss of this ritual and angry at the causes behind the deteriorating health of their ocean. Phosphorus was the culprit, this churning mass of emerald green was algae and it thrived on the leaking estuaries of fertiliser-polluted rivers. One day, the farmers came to a conclusion: they must put a halt to their reliance on phosphorus to grow their fruit and vegetables and find an alternative method. The farmers discovered that phosphorus was trapped inside the algae, which they could harvest and develop as their own fertiliser. From then on new rituals evolved and spread, transforming the island and bringing people together.
The year began unusually to the times prior. As the first full moon rose after the first new moon after the winter solstice, communities gathered at their nearby fishing stations to set sail along the coastline. The purpose of their journey was to establish locations of algae harvesting, casting nets to capture the transient sea clouds. As winter turned to spring, the first bloom of algae arrived and vessels were prepared to reap what was caught. The ensuing voyages laced their way around the shoreline, collecting each filled net they passed. In the meantime, others were constructing a shelter to store the gathered algae, delivered as the vessels filled. After some weeks, the farmers returned home, content from their travels at sea and eager to share their stories.
In the cool months of early spring that year, limestone boulders travelled from up land to establish their enduring life on the coastline. These became the foundations for a place of protection, built of wood from the dense forests. This folly waited patiently for its purpose and after some months, once the green clouds at sea had surpassed, the voyages of algae harvesting were set on their course to arrive. One-by-one, the filled nets were fed up through the centre of the shelter, securing themselves in preparation for the elapsing seasons. As time went on, through the earthly cycles, the algae began to dry as the shelter breathed the winds from the south and west. The harsh winter months arrived abruptly that year. Concerned for the protection of their gathered algae, the nearby village rushed to the folly, closing, securing and fastening its shell. The algae remained safe over a long, dark winter.
Spring was welcomed after the new moon rose again and the farmers returned to the fishing station to observe the endurance of their protective folly. To their joy, the harvested algae was bone dry and in a ready state to be transported. As spring became summer, preparations were made for the following year. As the land was reaped of its produce, the next folly arose in the farmland atop solitary limestone boulders, a presence that will in turn surpass any future follies. This folly’s purpose functioned in the processing of dried algae into fertiliser, though first it waited patiently dormant for its moment to be awakened. Meanwhile, the seas green clouds eased and the dried harvested algae was eager to be taken inland. By foot, boat and truck deliveries were made to the prepared folly and it quickly amassed a mountain of algae, more than enough to feed the land. Processes ensued and when the following Spring arrived, algae traversed the land in alternate form, enriching phosphorus into the soil. The plants were delighted and the harvest was abundant that year.
Tall grasses swayed on Gotlands rolling fields. The air was warm and the sun high, and there was a moment of stillness in the waters. Summer solstice was celebrated with a renewed sense of hope and togetherness that year as new rituals took place. A community gathered from nearby towns and villages, as they did years prior, to take part in the festival of haymaking. To commence the festival a wooden framework was built, larger than any before. This folly became a skeletal ghost of past feasting halls and sat waiting for its grassy cloak. Next followed the reaping of the tall grasses from the surrounding fields, gathered and piled high on the folly, casting shade from the high sun on the long summer days. Months past and the grasses became brittle as they dried to hay. During this time, celebrations of the harvested produce and midsummer ensued in the forms of grand feasts and dances. To close this time of festivities, in high spirits the people of in land led a procession from the folly, leaving it bear of its cloak as they carried the hay to a place of renewal.
The stones lay bear in a spiral labyrinth as the winter snow was cleared. That year the solstice was celebrated with processions of light, casting shadows in the darkest days. Memories of the harvests of summer encapsulated the community as they reminisced on drawn out days together under the sunlight. As the new year approached, the hay from the summer past was brought and laid onto the stone spiral, binding and weaving to amass a grand mound. The new moon rose and the spiral was lit. A mighty glow shone on the faces of all that observed the dancing flames reaching to touch the inky sky. The jubilation of light and the promise of rebirth. The following day, the presence of the night prior had settled to a thick carpet of ash. The ash was gathered and distributed to nearby farms for it to be spread across their land, encouraging growth and prosperity in their crop that year.
Time past and the island settled into a cycle of re-established rituals. Down by the coastline, people began assembling at a fishing station each year to welcome a revived space of gathering. Limestone boulders marked the points of sun rise and set, and lunar symbols were placed atop tall wooden pylons. All aligning with the earthly cycles. Convivial feasts would occur here and mass shoreline cleans of stranded algae blooms in the warmer months, taking ownership of their local waters once again. Traces remained as the structure travelled to its neighbouring fishing station as the new year arrived.
The waters churned with emerald clouds as signs of spring emerged. This folly was to be observed from afar when this occurred, prioritising the health of the community. As the air warmed through months passing, the water began to clear and a time of rest from the working of the land was greatly welcomed. This folly became a bath house where people swam, wallowed and bathed in the chill water. As summer came to a close, the folly was abandoned once again to allow for the bloom to take hold; the time of nature’s cycle. A moment of celebration activated the folly in the winter months. A celebration of light in the darkness. St Lucia’s day.
A time before today, this ocean body breathed with the rise and fall of nature’s elapsing cycles; inhaling the solar, exhaling the lunar. Glimmering waters of a kind sustained its power. The island of Gotland was once entangled in this force, and now it is at peace with it once again. But for how long? Disturbance still holds a presence in the phosphoric cycles of the ocean edges. Only time will tell