“Anthropophytomorphism” refers to the attribution of both human and plant-like characteristics to non-human entities. Derived from the Ancient Greek 'ánthrōpos' meaning 'human', 'φυτόν' (phyton) meaning 'plant' and '-morphosis' meaning 'form or shape,' it specifically refers to the emulation or transformation into a human and plant-like state, often used in contexts of art, design, biology, or metaphorical descriptions of human-nature interactions."
The exhibition “newroots” is an invitation to re-code the way see look at ourselves through a phyto-prism instead of an anthropogenic one. Taking the digital realm as the cherished environment for this new reality to take place, exhibited artists reveal themselves as seamlessly merged with minerals, animals, and plants. As Gandhi said, "Be the change that you wish to see in the world".
Transitioning anthropogenic avatars to phytomorphic representations has been intriguing and inspiring writers and artists for centuries. From the myth of Apollo and Daphné or XVIth century portraits by Arcimboldo, to speculative science fiction from the 80s with J.G. Ballard or more recently with “Les Furtifs” by Alain Damasio, or the video-game turned TV-show “The Last of Us”, the exploration of humanity merging with nature is part of our collective imagination. But it seems artists today are doing it on purpose as a quest to embody nature, transcending traditional boundaries to achieve a symbiosis that is at once imaginative and reflective of our collective environmental consciousness.
This evolution signifies a deepening biophilia within the digital realm. So what does "nature embodiment" mean in today's collective imagination? Is it mineral, animal, or vegetal? And could this be a key to fostering nature-empathy?
While previous cultures used nature embodiment as a common theme in mythologies or folklores, it seems the new characters of our stories are avatars. The transformation into phytomorphic avatars is not just an artistic endeavour; it's an act of environmental activism. Because, in embracing antropophytomorphism and calling the botanical within the digital, we start to see ourselves as part of a larger, interconnected ecosystem.
The exhibition "newroots: the antropophytomorphic age" is an invitation to rethink our digital identities as potential agents of environmental change, embodying the symbiotic relationship we aspire to have with nature.
The show begins with a question “what if nature has a gender?” inviting viewers to consider how the concept of gender could be applied to or seen within nature itself. As the first work to be presented,
SHORT SEASON by Claudia Hart (2023) connects visitors to a sensory spectacle in which breath becomes a narrative thread, a space-time where body and nature merge between beauty and anxiety. Then,
Strength in the Crystallisation by Harriet Davey (2021) shows us the culmination of a transition in which nature becomes a genre to be worn like an armour of crystals, as strong and fragile as our beings.
Narcissus and Echo by Micah Alhadeff (2023) offers a story told through a dance where nature, or our nature, plays on us with laughter and beauty.
The second space revolves around the question “why do we transition from anthropogenic avatars to phytomorphic representations?”. As a portal to a future where technology and flora coalesce, these artworks draw on the botanical and animal world as a translator of emotions.
Local Binaries by Lauren Moffat (2022) is an AR representation of the world that exists within nine women interviewed by the artist. Through geological forms, sounds, plant-life, weather systems comparisons, the artwork encourages embodied mindfulness.
ONCE A KING by Masbaco (2022) tells the story of a sovereign welcoming us into his kingdom, now giving way to trees and butterflies.
With the question “what does nature embodiment mean in today’s collective imagination?”, the third space stages the ultimate transformation of humans into plants or animals. It is a call to awaken to the natural world's presence within us, recognizing that to nurture the planet is to nurture ourselves.
CORPUS by Nancy Baker Cahill (2022) presents an AR building-tall human becoming plants or plants turned into human shape. Its breathing and slow movement recalls how trees are moving and staying still at the same time. Living in the
Undergrowth by Violet Bond (2022) celebrates the creatures crawling under our feets, often unseen, and now covering her face.
The Hybrid Branch by Solimán López x John James (2023) presents the hybridizations of a peach tree in the snow telling poetry, moving like a new type of creature, half human, half synthetic. The short film
REEF by Fabian Aerts (2022) is a celebration of life, nature and the seasons, where humans turn into submarines, corals and animals.
The last space shows artistic portrayal of landscapes, flora, and fauna as tools to help reclaim identities, spaces, and narratives that have been marginalised or erased.
In the video-game
Third World: The Bottom Dimension by Gabriel Massan (2023), the player is asked to extract two elements of the game which appear to be essential in the balance of the entire ecosystem. Is it up to the player to decide to follow the order and destroy the environment or to rebel and save it. With
Unknown Realm (2024) and
Portal de un nuevo mundo, Alfacenttauri aka Felipe Sepúlveda (2022) creates fantastic worlds inhabited by polymorphic and fluid creatures inviting us to explore new types of identities, ecosystems and new forms of nature in order to find salvation.
Diane Drubay, curator