Unveiling the Scent of Anxiety: The Sámi Artist Reimagines Tate's Exhibition Space with Arctic Deer Influenced Installation
Attendees to Tate Modern are used to unexpected experiences in its expansive Turbine Hall. They have sunbathed under an man-made sun, descended down amusement rides, and witnessed robotic sea creatures floating through the air. But this marks the initial time they will be immersing themselves in the detailed nose cavities of a reindeer. The current artistic project for this huge space—created by Native Sámi artist Máret Ánne Sara—encourages patrons into a labyrinthine construction modeled after the expanded interior of a reindeer's nose airways. Once inside, they can wander around or relax on pelts, listening on earphones to tribal seniors sharing tales and wisdom.
Why the Nose?
What's the focus on the nose? It could seem quirky, but the artwork celebrates a obscure biological feat: researchers have discovered that in less than one second, the reindeer's nose can raise the temperature of the ambient air it inhales by 80 degrees celsius, enabling the animal to thrive in harsh Arctic climates. Enlarging the nose to bigger than a person, Sara explains, "generates a perception of insignificance that you as a person are not in control over nature." She is a former reporter, children's author, and land defender, who hails from a pastoral family in the Norwegian Arctic. "Possibly that creates the possibility to alter your outlook or evoke some humbleness," she continues.
A Celebration to Traditional Ways
The labyrinthine design is part of a features in Sara's immersive art project showcasing the culture, science, and beliefs of the Sámi, Europe's only Indigenous people. Semi-nomadic, the Sámi count approximately 100,000 people spread across northern Norway, the Finnish Arctic, Sweden, and the Russian Arctic (an region they call Sápmi). They have faced persecution, forced assimilation, and suppression of their tongue by all four states. By focusing on the reindeer, an animal at the heart of the Sámi cosmology and origin tale, the art also highlights the group's challenges relating to the environmental emergency, land dispossession, and imperialism.
Symbolism in Components
At the extended entry incline, there's a towering, 26-metre formation of skins ensnared by utility lines. It represents a metaphor for the political and economic systems restricting the Sámi. Partly a utility pole, part spiritual ascent, this part of the installation, named Goavve-, points to the Sámi word for an harsh environmental condition, in which dense sheets of ice form as changing temperatures thaw and ice over the snow, encasing the reindeers' main cold-season food, lichen. The condition is a consequence of climate change, which is taking place up to at an accelerated rate in the Arctic than globally.
Three years ago, I met with Sara in the Norwegian far north during a icy season and went with Sámi herders on their snowmobiles in biting cold as they carried containers of animal nutrition on to the wind-scoured tundra to distribute by hand. The reindeer gathered round us, scratching the slippery ground in vain attempts for mossy pieces. This resource-intensive and demanding procedure is having a drastic impact on animal rearing—and on the animals' independence. Yet the choice is malnutrition. As goavvi winters become routine, reindeer are perishing—some from lack of food, others suffocating after plunging into streams through thinning ice sheets. On one level, the art is a monument to them. "With the layering of elements, in a way I'm bringing the condition to London," says Sara.
Diverging Worldviews
The installation also emphasizes the sharp contrast between the modern understanding of electricity as a asset to be utilized for economic benefit and survival and the Sámi outlook of energy as an innate essence in animals, humans, and land. Tate Modern's legacy as a fossil fuel plant is linked with this, as is what the Sámi consider environmental exploitation by Nordic countries. In their efforts to be leaders for renewable energy, these states have locked horns with the Sámi over the construction of windfarms, water power facilities, and digging operations on their native soil; the Sámi contend their human rights, livelihoods, and culture are at risk. "It's challenging being such a tiny group to protect your rights when the arguments are rooted in environmental protection," Sara comments. "Resource exploitation has adopted the language of environmentalism, but nonetheless it's just aiming to find alternative ways to persist in practices of use."
Personal Conflicts
The artist and her relatives have personally conflicted with the state authorities over its increasingly stringent regulations on reindeer management. Previously, Sara's sibling embarked on a set of unsuccessful lawsuits over the forced culling of his herd, ostensibly to stop vegetation depletion. To back him, Sara produced a four-year set of creations named Pile O'Sápmi featuring a massive curtain of 400 animal bones, which was shown at the 2017 art exhibition Documenta 14 and later acquired by the public gallery, where it hangs in the entryway.
Art as Awareness
For many Sámi, creative work is the only realm in which they can be understood by outsiders. In 2022, Sara was {one of three|among a group of|