This new online exhibition brings together the results from two of artist David Cass’ recent undertakings: an awareness-raising collaboration with sea-rise expert John Englander; and a project devised during the lockdown of 2020, in which Cass gathered photographs of sea from people around the world. Brought together, the outcome is both a social and educational artwork, exploring the ocean that connects us all, during an unprecedented and turbulent period. The last months have been not only devastating for our planet’s human population, but also for our oceans, which reached their hottest level in recorded history.

The great majority of the images featured here were captured by locals of seaside locations, or those who found themselves by the sea when the world went into lockdown last year. These are transporting images, they’re both uplifting and thought-provoking, many accompanied by notes from the person behind the lens, which can be found on Cass’ blog. Englander’s texts and the participants’ photographs combine to form a single narrative which is firmly of its time. The exhibition features one image from each participant, taken using digital, analogue and smartphone lenses. Audience involvement is becoming an important aspect of Cass’ art practice, and the enthusiasm of those who submitted images to the project and willingness to enter into dialogue is clear.

Englander’s texts have been arranged so as to offer bitesized ocean facts – particularly within the context of rising sea levels. The launch of the exhibition coincides with the release of his much anticipated second book, Moving to Higher Ground: Rising Sea Level & the Path Forward.

Coming Together

David Cass

As a lighthearted solution to the travel restrictions we’ve been facing as a result of the coronavirus pandemic, I launched an open call titled The Sea from Here at the beginning of the first lockdown, asking people who lived by the sea – or found themselves on a coast at the point of lockdown – to send me their view, without going out of their way to do so, or disobeying rules of social distancing; whether this was the sea they saw from the foot of their garden, or a phone-snap taken whilst out walking.

The project grew. Photos arrived from all over the world. And as travel rules changed, many who had been unable to take part in the project at the beginning sent pictures taken during brief seaside forays. While my partner and I spent almost all of 2020 confined to our central London flat, the near daily submissions to the project arriving in my inbox were uplifting and transporting – eye opening, too – often accompanied by notes and observations on how our coasts are changing as a result of development, subsidence or sea-rise.

Profound images and stories arrived. Danette Quartey sent in a series from Cannes, where she ended up stranded for several weeks, as international travel ground to a halt. Li-Ann Smal described the erosion she’s been witnessing since childhood in Greystones, Ireland. Just along the same coast, Niall Meehan made me feel part of his morning swim, sharing stunning images from within the water. Katie Mcalister sent photos taken during a cross-Channel relay. David Gange sent a ferocious seascape, taken from his kayak whilst holding onto rocks and using a reef for shelter. Alessa Brossmer and her artistic collaborator Jochen Orso sent an aerial image of an iceberg on Jökulsárlón (Glacier River Lagoon, Iceland) where they’ve been recording melting bergs. Paaluk Kreutzmann spoke of the difficulties faced by Greenlanders, with sea-ice melting earlier year on year. Jane Lethbridge’s shot shows ash coloured sand on Avoca beach in New South Wales in the aftermath of the region’s wildfires; Leslie Hickey’s was taken just after Oregon’s equally devastating blazes:

That day had the bluest sky, the deepest blue water. After almost two weeks of heavy wildfire smoke, it was a relief to just be there, without the apocalyptic yellow clouds and pink sunlight I had been living through. The sea was a revelation; everything was clean and beautiful and being there already felt like a memory.

My own contribution to the project was captured in late February of last year, just outside Taigh Chearsabhagh arts centre in North Uist, and just before the pandemic had started to take hold in Europe. It seemed something far off then, yet we were just weeks away from our lives being turned upside down. I remember the stillness of that early morning in Lochmaddy, watching the sun come up on my last day there, turning the bay golden.

“A glimpse into the unreachable. A wonderful collection of images to transport you to the edges of the terrestrial world.”

“For anyone who yearns for wide horizons ~ a brilliant environmental art project…”

“An inspirational and deeply poignant collection – images for the soul that reflect our interconnectedness with the ocean and the lands we inhabit.”

“What a fabulous collection of images. I can never get enough of looking at the ocean! Thank you so much for bringing this exhibition to the world. We are all joined by the oceans.”

“If you’re already missing the sea, these beautiful photos may help. If you’re not already missing the sea, you may be by the time you’ve seen these beautiful photos.”

“Incredibly moving documentation depicting environmental ocean changes told in world photographs.”

“…at a time when some of us feel so far apart it’s comforting to know we are all connected by this amazing body of water.”

“For all who love and perhaps miss the sea, take a look at this beautiful online exhibition featuring photos from all over the globe snapped by coastal dwellers during lockdown.”

“…very evocative images of our perilous coastal environment.”

“A rare and beautiful online exhibition indeed.”