Dustin Yellin speaks about his project The Bridge, which would combat climate change.
Our country is currently inhabiting two realities: one, where people are aware that climate change poses a very real and immediate threat to our way of life, and another, whose adherents refuse to acknowledge scientific evidence. Educational initiatives, public awareness campaigns, and legislative measures all fail to do what is needed: inspire those who deny the climate crisis to rethink their opinions. Something more visceral, more affecting is needed—something like art. Public art that makes a statement about climate change will force the latter to quite literally come face to face with one of the most pressing issues to all of mankind. And Dustin Yellin may be making a piece of art powerful enough to change the world.
Last summer, I was able to visit Yellin’s studio in Red Hook, Brooklyn (perks of a very cool internship), where I learned of Yellin’s newest project—taking an oil tanker, flipping it vertically, and submerging half of it in a body of water. The proposed monument would be taller than the Statue of Liberty and would generate over 20 billion dollars of revenue each year from its visitors who could travel to the top of this monument—money that would go towards combating climate change.
Yellin’s monument would not only bring attention to climate change, nor would it simply provide money to combat the issue—the inside of the oil tanker would serve as a museum of sorts, inspiring and converting visitors through its uniquely immersive educational component. What, other than art, has the ability to do all of that?
I had the honor of speaking with Dustin and we discussed how mass appeal is key. Yellin’s thesis behind The Bridge is that it “preaches not to the choir” and avoids the echo chamber of contemporary discourse on climate change. Yellin explained: “The sons and daughters of Trump supporters who don’t even believe [in climate change].... Their kids will still be like, ‘I want to go to the top of the boat.’ That’s what I like: it will capture the imaginations of all because anyone is going to want to go up a boat; and then it is about what happens, what you learn, and what you experience through that process.” Yellin went on to describe his plans for the interior of The Bridge, which would include projections of “satellite data of the earth changing.” There would be an observation deck and roof garden, with plants, a waterfall, a wind turbine, and a series of internal ramps where visitors can walk or scooter past other art installations that make commentaries on Climate change. Yellin explains, “For the bridge I think a lot of it would be mixed with not only art, but with real science communications, methodology like satellites and data, things like this.”
Yellin believes that curiosity leads to learning, and I have to agree. “I like the idea of curiosity being the fundamental kernel of learning,” Yellin says. The key to reaching people, and teaching people, is sparking their curiosity, which is why art can effect change more than any political policy, PR campaign, or solely educational initiative. In other words, interdisciplinary projects with deep public engagement have the potential to inspire curiosity in everyone; and, through that curiosity, we have the power to change minds.
Climate Initiatives aim to combat climate inaction by promoting research about infrastructure changes—but what if the best way to combat climate inaction isn’t through more research or scholarship? What if we can create traction by directly converting nonbelievers?
Yellin explains his goal is not just to create a site of discussion or of conversion for its visitors, but also to actually raise money to combat climate change. Yellin explains, “The biggest critique, that will be for this project, is well how on Earth do you want to spend 300 million dollars to put a ship up, wouldn’t that 300 million dollars do X, Y and Z. Which it would, that being said though, I love the idea of sustainability so I love the idea of besides convergence and discourse, I love the idea that if it’s in the right place modestly a billion visitors a year, modestly at 40 dollars each, modestly after operations creating something like 20 billion dollars a year, that could go to deforestation to conservation to legislation, so that’s part of the project that is not so much discussed in the articles that have been out there but is a big piece of it, is the idea that through the participation, a family of five goes up and spends for 30 or 40 bucks each to go for this crazy experience and then they realize through their visiting and going up the elevators up the bridge that they preserved one acre in the amazon or they helped X, Y and Z up the needle.”
While scientific advancement and policy change are the metrics that make the greatest tangible impact on how much we are worsening climate change each year, the policy changes we need will not pass without conversion. Every green deal gets stalled by political infighting, and if history has shown us anything, it is that big public policy changes only pass when they are accompanied by public pressure. Only by converting more nonbelievers into believers can we come together to tackle the climate crisis. And by creating public art with that goal in mind, art may make nonbelievers come face-to-face with climate change and spark their curiosity. To optimize education and public awareness surrounding Climate Change, and thus help effect real cultural change, more should experiment with interdisciplinary arts initiatives exploring the issue.
The interdisciplinary approach of The Bridge is very much in line with the spirit of Brown and its students who take advantage of the Open Curriculum year after year. Yellin advises Brown students to “really push things beyond what seems possible and to galvanize everyone around you to do the same.”
Brown’s Percent-for-Art program has thoughtfully integrated site-specific public art onto campus since 2004. In honor of the 20th anniversary of this program, I sat down with the former director and artists involved to reflect on some of the program’s diverse projects and to gain insight into their perspectives on public art at Brown and beyond.
By examining various historical and cultural practices in regards to fashion, textiles, and fabric-making, Chloe discusses the different ways fiber arts express community and identity in material or design choices.
Responding to the tense familial relations in Tina Barney’s "Jill and Polly in the Bathroom" and Larry Sultan’s "My Mother Posing for Me."