The World’s Green is Rotting Lime

The World’s Green is Rotting Lime is an ecopoetic audiovisual installation that speculates on future ecologies emerging from plastic pollution. The work follows the discovery of a new parasitic flower morphospecies that has evolved to adapt to the infiltrating amounts of microplastics found in the earth’s layers. The story takes place in the Cacupangan cave system in Pangasinan, the Philippines, a subterranean kilometers-long labyrinth of tunnels and underground rivers. Taking its color from the acidic green plastics of Mountain Dew soda bottles which are commonly upcycled and repurposed across rural provinces, the emergence of the flower reveals a history and future far beyond its isolated habitat.

The work resulted from the artist’s ongoing field research on coastal climate adaptation strategies between the Philippines and the Netherlands, uncovering how crisis adaptation is shaped by local environmental, economic, and cultural conditions. The work is inspired by conversations with writer Nicola Sebastian from artist residency Emerging Islands and geo-engineer Hagg Perez who both have been working in and with the region for years. We discussed the rapidly changing environment that the increasing tourist industry brings, the impact of climate crisis and the adaptation strategies of both human and non-human communities.

The title of the work takes reference to a line in ‘Ruins of a Great House’ by Saint Lucian poet Derek Walcott. Set on an old plantation built during the colonial era in the Caribbean, the poem compares the decay of the building to its colonial past. The interacti e scent design of the installation is created using a combination of various ingredients, such as Mountain Dew liquid, dried Rafflesia Arnoldii (corpse flower), dying orchid petals, and lime juice.

Context ‍

Standing high on garden fences or transformed into flowers, lanterns, stars, signs and other forms of decoration, but also a common sight on the shores and in the gutters, the bright plastic uranium color of Mountain Dew bottles has become an integral element of the island green color palette of the Philippines. It’s one of those things you can’t unsee once you’ve paid notice. The adaptive use of the plastic bottles reflects a certain kind of resilience, creativity and resourcefulness that characterises a lot of the island's communities mentality. Although labeled as ‘recyclable’, many plastic bottles such as the ones from Mountain Dew can only be recycled into low grade plastic with limited functional uses or are only accepted at specific recycling facilities, so many ‘recyclable’ plastics simply end up in landfills or the ocean.

And there are more plastic forces at play. Tracing geological traces of geo-engineering across the area, rural areas within the Philippines are rapidly changing as a result of commercial efforts to increase touristic infrastructure. Plastic plates are now a common material used to stabilise the earths layers. The plastic here replaced natural building resources due to trading deals between the Western contractors that guide this process and their plastic suppliers, also from the west. The region needs designated protected areas that prevent corporate and governmental greed to enforce profit over preservation. Hagg proposes promoting geotourism: tourism that sustains or enhances the distinctive geographical character of a place.

What happens when the remnants of our plastic world continue to infiltrate our ecosystems? Merging with rivers, oceans, forests and caves. I started imagining what a radical adaptation would look like. Caves, due to their isolates state, are a perfect hatching place for microclimates. The closed off conditions help species evolve a lot faster and more specific to their environment. We need to look for radical and queer strategies of survival. The work imagines a fictional cave flower that is part of one of the queerest flower species I know of so far: the corpse flower. Native to only a few countries in Southeast Asia – including The Philippines – the large parasitic flower mimics the smell of rotting flesh once it blooms to attract flies for their pollination and reproduction. It's entire survival is dependent on attaching itself to a specific vine it likes. If any species would find a way to survive a plastic infested cave system, I could imagine the corpse flower would find a way. Perhaps the discovery of such a species, in a not-so distant future, might help label its environment as a site for geotourism. Yet, if we get to a future this far, there might not be much left to be protected.