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| 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.
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