‘Living Sculptures’ Provide An Underwater Sanctuary, Education, and Tourism

Underwater artificial reef artist Celia Gregory

When UK-based artist Celia Gregory first took on scuba diving in 2001 in Zanzibar she was amazed to see how man-made artificial reefs can become a marine sanctuary, drawing tourists and creating real economic values to the surrounding community based on ecotourism.

“Of course as an artist I see it from an artistic perspective,” Gregory tells the Jakarta Globe.
For years Gregory had been a mosaic artist, working on architectural and landscape projects in the United Kingdom. But after her first diving experience, it wasn’t long until she began looking for ways to make artificial reefs as works of art, conveying messages of hope in the fight to save the world’s coral reefs.

“Creativity,” she continues, “has the power to inspire us into action.”

Her journey to create “underwater living sculptures” took her to Indonesia, at the heart of the so-called “coral reef triangle” where she met up with conservation activist Naneng Setiasih, who works as a manager for international NGO, the Coral Reef Alliance.

Naneng, Gregory says, taught her that coral conservation is much like gardening. Corals are first put in a nursery before they are strong enough to survive and grow on their own out at sea. Corals are also competitive and need an optimum distance from each other to increase their chances of survival.

Gregory also learned what materials are most suited for her work to promote coral growth and the fact that she needed to incorporate, in her sculptures, holes and cracks where little fish can hide from predators or seek shelter from the pounding waves.

“It’s an evolution,” she says of her creative process, adding that it is a constant learning experience through trials and errors filled with surprises, figuring out what works and what doesn’t.
Gregory came into Neneng’s life at a time when she was questioning the effectiveness of her mostly scientific approach to coral conservation.

“When I’m writing scientific journals, those who will read it are likely my peers… I’m reaching [out] to the same group of people I’m already working with,” she says.

“Which is why I was really thrilled to collaborate with Celia. We have to do something else to complement what we are already doing.”

According to Naneng, corals are disappearing from overfishing, the use of fish bombs and cyanides as well as pollution and climate change.

In Indonesia alone, 40 percent of the coral reefs are irreversibly damaged and the rest will be at risk by 2050, Naneng says. And that already alarming figure does not take into account the likeliness of an increase in the rate of destruction.

“Something needs to be done to stop this. And we are on a tight deadline to do so,” she says.
But the main problem is, most people can’t seem to relate to the scientific data.

“[The data is] too complicated,” Gregory says. “And the environmental story [conveyed by scientists and activists] is mostly negative; I think people are switching off.”

And so the two partnered, creating living artworks to spread the conservation message to a wider audience.

Among Gregory’s most renowned projects is “the Coral Goddess” in Pemuteran, Bali. The sculpture is of a woman resembling those found in Javanese or Balinese temples: seated in a meditative position surrounded by a wire mesh shaped like a giant lotus, which is now covered in coral.
The sculpture managed to attract a great deal of attention, featured in the cover of travel and diving magazines as well as newspapers the world over. It has successfully attracted tourists, divers and artists looking to create their own works of art to share on their websites and blogs.

It started a conversation about coral conservation, Gregory says, reaching a worldwide audience “that would otherwise not be interested in the subject.”

Her effort also attracted businesses like the UK-based cosmetics retailer Body Shop that sponsored Gregory’s most recent project, a giant sculpture titled “The Mermaid” installed in Bali’s Jemaluk Bay.

Gregory’ work also gets other artists and local volunteers on board in creating underwater galleries in Jemaluk Bay and Amed for divers to enjoy.

The galleries “started a change in societies where the projects are held,” she says. In the past, fishing communities who are now collaborating with the artist reeled in their daily catch without much consideration for the environment. But gradually, they switched to become coral nursers, planters and boat operators ferrying tourists looking to see the underwater works of art, helping to create a thriving economy based on ecotourism.

“Fishing communities which used to destroy the corals are now helping with conservation effort,” she says.

Gregory has also inspired Naneng to get creative in crafting her conservation messages. In 2010, Naneng published a novel targeting the teenage audience with a semi-autobiographical story line revolving around the issue of love, social justice and, of course, the environment.

“Whenever I get feedback from my colleagues about my journals, of course I’m happy. But when I got emails from my readers discussing the environment, there’s another level of excitement because I know I’m reaching out [to an audience],” she says.

But the two discovered that approaching local communities about changing their environmentally destructive habits requires a more traditional strategy; Gregory and Naneng listed the help of community leaders in areas which have been successful in ecotourism.

“So [our efforts will] not [come across] as foreigners preaching,” Gregory says.

The leaders were able to share their knowledge and convince other communities that, in the long run, they will benefit greatly by preserving their coral reefs.

“What I love about this project, the fish benefit [from it], people benefit. It’s more like an ecosystem; it’s expanding, it’s affluent, it’s bountiful,” she says.