Art is Atomic: Staying with Troubles in the Age of Anthropocene

Imagine a catastrophic supernova event eliminating all evidence of humankind and our history of possessing and transforming, the materials once again reduce themselves into an atomic state, and the sea devours the dark, scratched land. What remains is the ruins and excesses we once lived close to– so close that no one noticed– metals, broken neon signs, moldy carpet and spilled leftovers, stains, rust. These remnants of humanity now join the world of generous darkness, springs of chemical reactions, and undecipherable symbiosis. 

Artist Max Hooper Schneider is gleaning these forgotten anthropogenic ruins, crafting these miniature catastrophes from imagination, and sending them to the present. His installations of catastrophe are unconventional, as they are not completely negative or giving up hope. Rather the catastrophe, with the insurmountable power of destruction, is also breaking the hierarchy of things in the anthropocentric view. Things are no longer ranked by their usefulness, thus presenting more possibilities for symbiotic creations on both artistic and biological levels.

With this blurred boundary of agency, the materials in his installations are in recess yet the message is hyperactive: in The Extinction of Neon series, the broken neon signs lighten up the plastic flora, peeking through the cracks of dense artificial leaves and vines, tricking us into an almost impossible hope of photosynthesis. The Forensic Blossom series uses resin and fluorescent powder to transform food leftovers and the fungus growing on them into glowing, post-Anthropocene artifacts. This evokes a subliminal sense of hunger, as mushrooms consume the remnants of what was once humanity's fundamental life supply. In the Dendrite Bonsai series, dendrite copper grows over fresh fruits and vegetables, but the freshness resists assimilation by dehydrating and eventually dying, leaving a copper crust as the remnant of a dynamic process. These works not only dismantle the hierarchy of materials in the face of catastrophe but also blur the line between life and death.

The materials mounting up in Schneider’s work are abundant, yet in their most common and basic form. What makes a difference is how they make connections with each other: these assemblages are nonscalable, as Anna Tsing points out in her essay on nonscalability, nonscalable systems do not simply expand in uniform ways, nor are easily mass-produced or generalized across large areas. Schneider challenges the notion of scalability by creating intricate, non-uniform networks. This is evident in the huge broken neon sign that illuminates the details of the artificial plants, which coil and sprawl into a complex contemporary landscape.

Here, we are not simply passive viewers relying on our human subjectivity; rather, the assemblage of objects exerts its own agency, subtly instructing us on how to interpret and engage with this post-anthropocentric world. 

In Schneider's vision, the post-anthropocentric catastrophe disassembles the material world down to its atomic components, which he then uses to create his art. His works are composed of multiple interacting elements at the most fundamental level—both materially and conceptually. The undisturbed processes of atomic interaction are also visualized within his installations. For instance, the tips of electroplated fruits and bonsai retain remnants of copper in the form of electric strikes, while inside the copper crust, the real fruit and bonsai are slowly decaying. The installation appears stable on the surface, yet it undergoes constant transformation at the micro-level. The decay inside is juxtaposed with the seemingly static exterior. This tension between stasis and flux creates a new equilibrium that reflects the ongoing changes in the material. The reactions happening on the atomic level generate unexpected effects, highlighting how even the smallest interactions contribute to the visual and conceptual power of the work.

Notably, the process of designing and constructing Schneider’s installations does not involve any computer or AI assistance. The abundance and the uncanny sense of post-anthropocentrism in his work are not derived from pixels or code replicating at scale, but rather from biological processes like fossilization, growth, decay, and fermentation—often seen from a catastrophic perspective. Despite the absence of digital mediation, the hyperactive messages conveyed in his pieces are still universal and deeply emotional. Materials become a tool for interspecies translation, as Schneider carefully manipulates light, textures, and materials to evoke superimposed sensory experiences in each installation. In Rhizosphere, “gluts of steel tendrils extracted by diggers from scrap yards in Los Angeles are painted using color-shifting iridescent paint.”

Here, human experiences and memories of material extraction and abandonment are translated through gradual shifts in color, evoking a subtle sense of depth and burial. The seemingly simple yet weighty entanglements of the materials contribute to a profound, tactile resonance. These materials are translated into the Rhizosphere, a term referring to the complex network of soil, roots, and microorganisms beneath the earth’s surface. In this context, the history of these materials gains new metaphorical meaning as a representation of interconnectedness, both ecological and emotional.

Each sensation is endowed with specific and symbolic significance on the translation process, thus making the process not as neat, yet fruitful and inclusive in texture and ways of expression. The entangled materials are not merely physical objects but conduits of human memory and ecological awareness. Without the alienation or detachment that often accompanies digital experiences, Max Hooper Scheider’s works are continually reminding us the real uncanny is sitting right next to us, and what we need is not to regret the past nor fear the apocalyptic future, but a sensitivity to be truly present.

(Cover image:  Max Hooper Schneider, Dendrite Bonsai (Fern and Palm), 2024, Copper electroplated fruits, vegetables, and shrub assemblage, via https://www.thisiscolossal.com/2024/08/max-hooper-schneider-carnival-of-gestation/)