We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Brooke Ripley. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Brooke below.

Brooke, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Can you talk to us about a project that’s meant a lot to you?

As both an environmentalist and an artist, it can feel like I’m torn between two worlds. Creating can feel antithetical to environmentalism, especially when our sourcing and production systems enact so much harm on our environment.

There was a time when I doubted my ability to create in a way that aligned with my ideals, in a way that would not harm the environment and could even have a positive impact on the environment. Because of this, I wasn’t sure that I could create in a meaningful way.

At this point, I had created the work Revival Tract, which is a land art piece in which I replaced a traditional lawn with a native plant paradise. This piece asserted our space within the environment and the ability of a piece of land to serve us alongside the local ecology. This piece aligned with my ideals and benefited the environment, but it was nothing like the paintings I had made in the past, so I feared I would have to give up on my traditional sense of art to create meaningful work.

Eventually, I realized that to paint in a meaningful way does not mean that it must immediately benefit the ecology, because that is not always feasible. Instead, I should focus on reducing the impact of my art, be intentional with what I create, and ensure that all of my work can at the very least can return to the soil.

So, I redefined my practice. I researched the material composition of everything I use and swapped anything that was plasticized, i.e. unable to biodegrade properly, with biodegradable alternatives. I no longer prioritized the convenience of acrylic gesso over the environment- I switched to rabbit skin glue and took the time to prepare each batch of natural gesso, reflecting on its materiality as I did so.

I began to take accountability for my work and its impact. With canvas as my primary painting surface, I saved every piece of scrap I had. I created a laser-engraved canvas book, felted with cotton bolls, to confess my guilt with this material. I cried as I questioned what this impact would look like in the number of people displaced in the Maldives.

To create meaningfully is to recognize the entire impact of every work, rather than just the idea I want to convey through the work. As I advocate for a better world, through educational works on native biodiversity, land art, and paintings of the future, I also push for more sustainable materials as I reject the conveniences of a plastic world.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I am a fine artist and an environmentalist. I have been living low-waste for nearly five years and I’m working to educate others on the Anthropocene, the geologic epoch defined by humankind’s impact on the environment. Through my work, I advocate for native biodiversity and collective responsibility for the climate crisis.

My recent solo exhibition “Generation Zero”, reflected on the consequences that the generations to come will suffer if we do not act, while simultaneously offering hope and education through interactive Ecoregion puzzles and documentation of Revival Tract. This exhibition was inspired by my research on the Anthropocene and the Seven Generation Principle from Haudenosaunee beliefs.

A trademark of my work is the canvas label tags that accompany each piece. These label tags serve as a point of education for the viewer, as I share QR codes to the research I am referencing and disclose my work’s impact through a material statement that is unique to each work.

My art comes from a place of tension. A tension that arises from my culpability in the climate crisis, my desire to raise awareness, and the constant guilt of creating. To create is to rearrange, uptake, and remove parts of the environment for the sake of something “new”. My art wrestles with this guilt and recognizes how the climate crisis harms not only the environment but also all of us. To create in a meaningful way then, I must imbue each piece with a part of this recognition. It is to say to the environment, to humans and nonhumans alike “I see this harm, and I am sorry”. In doing so, I propose a way to feel the Anthropocene.

Any resources you can share with us that might be helpful to other creatives?

This might sound a bit simple, but I wish I had realized the impact of reading sooner. I read quite a lot in elementary and high school- it was a joy. I stopped reading when I got “serious” towards the end of high school and thought that reading was a distraction from my art. I believed that any time I spent reading should be spent painting or drawing instead.

In undergrad, I had the typical assigned readings and theory, but I only read what was required so I could focus on my art. Then come grad school, my professors are talking about these great books that inspired them, so I started to pick back up on reading. I had believed for so long that it was a waste of time in comparison to my art, but I have found that I am the most inspired after reading. I began checking out any and every book on environmental systems and climate change. Most of the books were nonfiction, so I was worried they would be dry, but I ended up clinging to every single word. When authors would reference any other books, I would go ahead and pick that book up next.

It’s one thing to see data or someone’s research article, but its another thing to read the book they wrote about discovering this data and its implications. It helped me to understand environmental complexities and our position within them and my artistic practice wouldn’t be where it is now without it.

In your view, what can society to do to best support artists, creatives and a thriving creative ecosystem?

The best thing we can do to support a creative ecosystem is to talk with artists. Interdisciplinary connections can lead to the most innovative solutions and it can strengthen our community bonds. I’ve learned this through my time working with True Pigments, which is a social enterprise that has brought artists, engineers, and community members to clean up a river and create iron oxide pigment from Acid Mine Drainage.

If it weren’t for this interdisciplinary collaboration, we wouldn’t have the funding to clean up the river. Through this project, we have inspired and educated others, created art that responds to this crisis, and have had beautiful dialogue with community members about the past, present, and future of this river and the surrounding areas.

As an artist, I often feel that I don’t have the resources to create the best representations of the climate crisis and that maybe I’m a bit unqualified. But, I know that my work can inspire others and that I care enough to make the work. Likewise, there are scientists, researchers, writers, engineers, etc. out there who have the research to prove how dire a situation is but don’t know how to reach the masses or make people care.

This collaboration works best when we’re in the same space and can bounce ideas off of each other, but reading is also a way to bridge the gaps between us. To support a thriving creative ecosystem, we have to stay engaged with the world around us. Get out, tell people about our outlandish ideas and, every once and a while, we’ll find someone who needs our energy and alternative communication to pair their experience and/or research with.

Contact Info:

• Website: brookeripley.net
• Instagram: @brookeripley.fineart
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/brooke-ripley-54582b170/