8 minute read

Just Water? Introduction

Some Thames, 2000 (detail), 80 inkjet prints on lacquered paper, 63.5 × 96.5 cm each © Roni Horn, courtesy of the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Xavier Hufkens. ING Collection

Text by Marcel Feil

In light of the vast fluid expanses that cover two thirds of its surface, our planet ought really to be called ‘Ocean’ rather than ‘Earth’. In fact, an extra-terrestrial observer might instead choose the name ‘Cloud’, given the accumulation of water droplets and ice crystals that hides more than 60% of it from view.

Some Thames, 2000 (detail), 80 inkjet prints on lacquered paper, 63.5 × 96.5 cm each © Roni Horn, courtesy of the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Xavier Hufkens. ING Collection

Powered by the sun, an endless dynamic process of evaporation, condensation, rainfall and the strengthening or weakening of currents occurs on and around the planet. In its various manifestations, water takes all sorts of routes across the surface of the earth, a place unique among heavenly bodies, as far as we know, precisely because it is covered in oceans and icecaps, as well as deserts and land shrouded by vegetation.

Water and its circulation, the hydrological cycle, are characteristic of our planet and a precondition of life upon it. There is a tendency to talk of the hydrological cycle in the singular, but in fact it’s a multitudinous phenomenon. Some cycles take only a few days, while others can last for months, years, millennia, even millions of years. A combination of powerful sunlight and persistent trade winds causes thousands of tons of seawater per square kilometre to evaporate in the tropics every day. Some of it rains back into the sea within a few hours, but on average water stays in the atmosphere for at least a week before returning to the earth’s surface. Water held in the atmosphere for around ten days can travel long distances, often far inland. If it falls onto mountaintops in the form of snow, months may pass before it thaws and returns to the sea via streams and rivers. Sometimes the snow may instead be compacted into glaciers, taking centuries to reach the coast, and water that seeps underground can remain there for thousands of years before re-emerging.

SHAPING THE LAND’S SURFACE AND HUMAN HABITS

Along with the movement of tectonic plates and neverending winds, it is water that shapes the earth’s crust. Massive quantities of ice that covered the earth for millennia have slowly scraped over the planet’s surface, raging rivers and gentle streams have been carved into it on their way to lower-lying land, waterfalls have pounded ceaselessly and rain has gently seeped through soft rocks year after year – all these things have shaped the earth like a sculptor. Looking out over the Grand Canyon you become aware of the astonishing formative power of water, a force matched only by the activities of human beings. The invention of farming, which altered human lives fundamentally, also reconfigured the face of the earth, but again, water and the control of water lay at the root of the change.

Some Thames, 2000 (detail), 80 inkjet prints on lacquered paper, 63.5 × 96.5 cm each © Roni Horn, courtesy of the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Xavier Hufkens. ING Collection

Agriculture requires a reasonably reliable source of water, even if supplies cannot be completely controlled. Where water flows freely, humans may be tempted to stop, plant crops and settle. As long as the river continues to flow, farmers can irrigate their crops either directly from it or from water sources nearby. Ditches can be dug to divert water, and these may eventually develop into complex irrigation systems.

The expansion of agriculture was in most cases accompanied by the domestication of animals. Donkeys, oxen, buffalo and horses helped in the cultivation of land and at the same time enriched the food supply, making it possible to feed a steadily increasing population. Then supplies could be stockpiled and trade could develop and expand. Increasing security and prosperity allowed people to engage in work not directly related to food production. As well as warriors and priests, there was eventually room for bookkeepers, architects, scientists, astronomers and poets. Thousands of years ago, along the great rivers – the Nile, the Euphrates and the Tigris, and the major waterways of China and the Indian subcontinent – prosperous and advanced civilisations often used ingenious irrigation systems to provide their populations with clean water. No wonder water occupies a central place in almost all religions and belief systems. Water is the source of all life. It purifies the soul and washes away sins, and from the earliest of times water sources have been associated with healing. There is evidence of religious worship around wells and springs at various sites in western Europe from the Neolithic period to the Bronze Age.

Some Thames, 2000 (detail), 80 inkjet prints on lacquered paper, 63.5 × 96.5 cm each © Roni Horn, courtesy of the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Xavier Hufkens. ING Collection

India is the supreme example of a country of water pilgrims. Its traditions are centuries old and vast numbers of people observe them. The holiest places lie along the banks of the Ganges or one of the many other rivers that feature in Hindu worship. The holiest festival is Kumbh Mela, held every two years at Allahabad, where the Ganges, the Yamuna and the mythical underground river the Saraswati flow together. On 24 January 2001 Kumbh Mela was the occasion of the biggest ever gathering of people. Astrologers had determined that it would be the best date on which to bathe in this confluence of rivers, a time when submersion would be most likely to bring happiness and good fortune. When the day came, between 20 and 25 million people cleansed themselves of their sins by bathing in the water that they believe embraces all life, from before birth to the cosmic outcome after death.

Some Thames, 2000 (detail), 80 inkjet prints on lacquered paper, 63.5 × 96.5 cm each © Roni Horn, courtesy of the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Xavier Hufkens. ING Collection

Water is so fascinating because it is a natural phenomenon and at the same time, in the very same form, a social factor of increasing importance.

Some Thames, 2000 (detail), 80 inkjet prints on lacquered paper, 63.5 × 96.5 cm each © Roni Horn, courtesy of the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Xavier Hufkens. ING Collection

NATURE AND CULTURE

Water is nature and water is culture. It is never just one or the other, always both. Water is so fascinating because it is a natural phenomenon and at the same time, in the very same form, a social factor of increasing importance. Water is H 2 O in nature, in remote waterfalls, just as it is H 2 O in human communities, where it pours out of the tap, flushes our toilets and has a part to play in modern policy decisions and the completion of megaprojects. By the simple fact that water exists, the dominant and often rigid distinction between nature and culture is revealed to be artificial.

That water undermines the dichotomy between nature and culture is an indication of the potential it has to address pressing issues in a wide range of areas. Nature is increasingly being cultivated, exploited and abused, and the same holds true for water. The consequences are inevitable. The more humans seek control over water and attempt to socialise it, the more it exerts its power over all aspects of society. From Hurricane Katrina to persistent drought in California, from floods in Bangladesh and desertification in northern China to the disappearance of islands in Micronesia and pre dictions of climate change, many social challenges manifest themselves first and most acutely as issues related to water.

Some Thames, 2000 (detail), 80 inkjet prints on lacquered paper, 63.5 × 96.5 cm each © Roni Horn, courtesy of the artist, Hauser & Wirth, and Xavier Hufkens. ING Collection

There is an increasing awareness that climate change is making itself felt within the space of a single human lifetime and having a direct impact on social life. The human population increased from about one million in 6000 BC to one billion in 1900 and more than six billion in 2000. Within the next 50 years there will probably be some nine billion people on earth, but the amount of water is still the same as when humans first came onto the scene as hunter-gatherers. The question of who controls the available and always variable supply of water has therefore become increasingly important. In 1950 few regions suffered from acute water shortages, even in the Middle East. The expectation is that by around 2025 more than 80% of the global population will be struggling to secure sufficient supplies. The figure may be a reflection of the kind of alarmist talk heard more and more often, but there can be no doubt that in large parts of the world there is a growing discrepancy between the demand for water and the amount available. When water is plentiful it does not matter too much with whom you share a river, lake, or spring, but when water becomes less freely available, the coordination of its use is increasingly crucial and complex.

GEOPOLITICS BECOME HYDROPOLITICS

In the twentieth-century, along with population growth, three other worldwide revolutions had an unprecedented impact on the demand for water. First, irrigation was globalised; five times as much land is now reliant on artificial irrigation as was the case 100 years ago. Without this development, mass famine would have struck far more often. Second, urbanisation has become a global phenomenon and is happening with increasing speed, with the result that more than half of the world’s population now lives in urban areas, where water management is crucial. Third, global industrialisation is making dramatic new demands, with far more water needed for use in manufacturing, cooling, cleansing and so on. Together these developments cause ever greater competition for control over water, so issues of quantity, quality and distribution are high on the international agenda. Devising conceptual, scientific, political and economic frameworks within which this can happen is the great challenge of our time.

Although no one yet knows what such frameworks should look like, it is clear that current uncertainty about the future of our water supplies has become a social fact with immense implications. Future developments around major rivers and places where large lakes and aquifers are to be found, and their consequences for existing power relationships and for the ways in which power is acquired and consolidated, will be drastic and far-reaching. We are already seeing their impact on political relationships between countries, between China, India and Pakistan, for example, between Turkey and Iraq, and between Israel and Jordan. Political relationships within countries are affected too, as can be seen in connection with the recent water shortage in Johannesburg. Worldwide uncertainty over future water supplies affects countless decisionmaking processes and will increasingly influence geopolitics. States and regions fearful of having insufficient clean water in the future will act differently from those that do not expect to be directly affected. And every change in the climate sooner or later changes the water landscape.

DICHOTOMIES OF WATER

Water is both concrete and intangible. It is constantly in motion and continually altering its form and character. While a river generally remains the same, the water in it is different from one moment to the next. Water can be threatening or charming, clear or murky, thirstquenching or asphyxiating. Water gives and water takes away. Nevertheless, the most striking feature of water is its uniformity. Whether part of the hydrological cycle or of the social cycle, whether carefully controlled or falling in thunderous waterfalls in remote areas, water is in essence always the same. That essence is universal and the same for everyone, past and present. So, yes it is ‘just’ water. It is the values and meanings attached to it that rule out the just. We must learn our lesson and try harder than ever to deal responsibly and respectfully with this vital and magical fluid, so that it does not avenge itself upon us.

Roni Horn is an American artist, whose work explores the exchange between art and the viewer’s perception. For Horn, identities can vary with changes in weather, and human kind and nature can act as a mirror. Horn first visited Iceland in the 1980s. Since then, it has continued to play the role of setting, muse, and subject in her work.

The series Some Thames is a collection of photographs of the English river, and is again rooted in her exploration of the notion of identity. Presented together, the pictures create a veritable mosaic of subdued brown, green and blue hues. To Horn “identity is a river”, it flows, changes and is endlessly diverse. Giving it a fixed name of the Thames is contrary, as if it were a constant body of water.