Beauty and the Buzzwords: The Art of Davos

AI-generated immersive visuals, electronic soundscapes, and orchestral music opened the annual congregation of the World Economic Forum in Davos last week (20-24 January). In one image displayed as part of the room-sized installation Studies from Large Nature Model: Glacier (2024) by Refik Anadol Studio [Fig. 1], a polar bear ventures into a vast mountainscape. Translucent colonnades of rhubarb and lime shimmer in bands across the sky, refracting light onto the snowy ridges below.

At first, the composition resembles the panoramic, paradisal visions of John Martin (1789-1854) [Fig. 2]. However, unlike Martin, behind this sublimity lurks trouble. Fondant white sheets are blemished with spaghetti bands of brown earth. In some places, the snow is no thicker than icing sugar. The polar bear appears forlorn, fur out-of-fashion with the transitioning landscape. Higher temperatures have blemished this Antarctic idyll.

Diminutive figures pepper the works of Martin, illustrating Biblical stories in stage-like scenes [Fig. 3]. Although the Refik Anadol image shares a similar composition, in that perspective places the viewer overlooking an open vista, humans are notably absent. Instead, the pitiful polar bear takes center stage. Captured in profile, the animal offers one eye to the viewer and the other to the valley. Encounter imbibes our own voyeurism with responsibility.

Devoid of human scapegoats, symbolizing environmental destruction, the finger points directly at us. This messaging resonates with the political bent of Davos which focuses on sustainability and DEI agendas, mirroring the priorities of university departments. The globalist bent of Davos is reinforced by its coordinated theme of Antarctica and the melting ice caps, in line with the UN’s International Year of Glaciers’ Preservation. It is no wonder that dazzling images provide a sexy gloss to this frosty theme, whose dry title makes it sound more Sahara than Siberia.

Environmental issues were pursued at Davos panel discussions and the publication of various reports. The nearly 3,000 attendees included over 50 heads of state and government, indicative of the coordinated international strategy. Speakers about the environment included figures such as the former US Vice-Present, Al Gore, who warned about greenhouse gas emissions as part of an expert panel session entitled “State of Climate and Nature”. Statistics generated by various reports warn about impending environmental catastrophe. Gore underlines the importance of these, explaining “You can only manage what you measure”.

Emphasis on statistics and clunky terminology is sadly out of touch with human response. The Bard himself understood this, when Hamlet laments: “Words, Words, Words.” Repetition indicates frustration in this line. Human meaning – and the consequent motivation – is derived from emotional connection, which is a driving force of stewardship and the imperative to act because of care rather than political imposition. Dry statistics and words are woefully inadequate. Care emanates from the individual response, from within, rather than a globalist strategy.

Unfortunately, the potential of Romantic imagery to raise questions of stewardship – a small ‘c’ conservative attitude towards the environment which is best argued by Roger Scruton in his concept of “oikophilia” (love of home)  – is deadened through the wan language of marketing at Davos, suggestive of its woke persona. Acronyms such as “DEI” and “ESI” are the current Esperanto: an international language that flattens individual expression and dilutes personal responsibility. According to the official webpage, “The concert amplifies the urgency of the climate crisis and creates a profound, lasting impact that stirs our emotions and drives us to act.” Generic activist lexicon does not capture the magnitude of the artistic task, whose imagery has the potential to promote environmental conservation as a small “c” (Scrutonian) conservative.

Ironically, the website description reads more as a product of AI than the AI-generated images themselves. Buzzwords – “urgency”, “climate crisis”, and “collective responsibility” – could be discovered in places as diverse as the back of cereal packets to Tate-governing policies. These hackneyed phrases commit injustice to the history of art, which itself provides insight into the complex forces that govern how humans perceive and act towards the environment.

Icy landscapes have captured the artistic imagination for centuries. The foregrounding of a polar climate as artistic subject is the product of a glacial pace, and certainly not reflective of an imminent “urgency” and “crisis”. Biblical stories belie these artistic manifestations, testament to our Christian heritage. God asks in the Book of Job (38:29), “From whose womb comes the ice? And the frost of heaven, who gives it birth?” The omnipotence of God contrasts to the suffering of Job whose strength lies in a metaphysical rather than physical source. References to childbirth in these questions convey a pushing force, also captured in The Sea of Ice (1823-4) by the German Romantic Caspar David Friedrich (1774-1840) [Fig. 4]. Ice sheets pile up in cacophonic torrents, overshadowing the shipwreck on the right-hand side. Under the crushing icy thrust, the ship – a product of human creation – is meek and easily lost.

In terms of imminence, or the modern stamp, what’s interesting about Davos’ opening ceremony is the fusion of technology and the arts. These visuals were displayed simultaneously with live musical performances – such as by the Morphing Chamber Orchestra – and digital soundscapes. Classical traditions were therefore brought into dialogue with modern methods of art production to strive towards recreating natural Beauty. Unlike Scruton, I do not despair at the prospect of contemporary art. Practicing artists should make new media speak a universal language.

The act of striving or yearning towards Beauty is a Romantic pursuit. Artificial intelligence is an interesting media to employ for these means because it had the capacity to produce over 10 million similar images to the one featured at the beginning [Fig. 1]. Mass imagery – each slightly different [Fig. 5] – reminisces the incessant sketching of real artists, each pencil mark contributing to the imaginative expression. Despite the absence of human hands in these AI-generated works, and arguably a reduced space for human imagination, the process is a striving towards Beauty.

One can only imagine the cost of staging such an immersive experience, which – equipped with cutting-edge technology – takes the pursuit of Beauty to a starry level. This layering of artforms at Davos also invokes another tradition, the Gesamtkunstwerk or “total work of art”. German Romantics fused artistic disciplines to heighten emotional effect. For example, the poem “Rose on the Heath” (Heidenröslein) (1771) by Goethe was set to music by Schubert:

The rose defended herself and pricked, / But no pain and lamentation helped her, / She just had to suffer it. / Rose, rose, red rose, / Rose in the meadow.

The piano melody from the accompanying D. 257 by Schubert weaves wonderfully with the sung poem, adding musical depth to the Romantic message. The somewhat minimal score by Schubert is elegant but impactful because it reflects the simplistic vocabulary and short lines of the poem. Poetic structure is given musical form.

Emotional heartstrings are plucked through the chords of Schubert, padded by Goethe’s words. This is an artistic manifestation of parallax, an astronomical method whereby the same celestial object is viewed from different angles to gain a better understanding. Layering different artforms gets us closer to the crux of human response – evoking feeling in various iterations – but at the same time, illuminates the inadequacy of human understanding. It’s a striving to capture meaning, that simplistic acronyms (DEI and ESI) bulldoze. Subtle rendering of emotions and Romantic invitation to self-reflection conflicts with the doom-mongering words of environmental activism. Urgency is inimical to self-reflection and the taking of personal responsibility. Humans turn into passive machines under such hyperbolic pressure, provoked to reflect in shame rather than respond with spirit.

The glacial speed of the Romantic tradition conflicts with the urgent lexicon that exhausts itself through its sensationalist messages, whilst setting a standard of perpetual inadequacy. This mismatch evidences a wider misunderstanding in culture. Two languages are at play; one is shouted loudly but the other actually means something.