Guest blog: “If I were a plant, would I…” – Rowan Groes

As of writing this article it has been almost nine months since the first official announcement of a partial lockdown in The Netherlands, due to the still ongoing COVID-19 pandemic. As a freelancer in the event industry and a master student at Utrecht University, it has been, as for many others an interesting time. Not only because there is still so much uncertainty for the future, but also because we have been made aware of who we are, how we work, how we influence our environment and the other way around. We are stuck inside our homes, are limited in physical and social contact and have to find alternative ways to get work done. This pandemic has forced us to rapidly change the way we live our daily lives. Some changes can be perceived as positive. Research led by the Joint Research Centre (JRC) for example observed how the lower emission of air pollution, as a result of less traffic during the lockdown, could result in an increase in crop production. The air seems to clear up, whereas the land and seas are filling up with waste from used masks and gloves that exit to protect humankind, but seems to do the opposite for nature.

Our environment is changing, but what is happening inside our homes? Inside the spaces that we see most right now. What things that are usually hidden in the background are now in our field of vision? What has been given life that otherwise seemed non-living? Can we look at those things in a similar way that Augusto Corrieri addresses how a rock can show movement and slow down time, how a butterfly can steal the show which it is not a part of and how the moon can recreate a musical composition based on its reflectional surface? (Corrieri 2017). And if we look at those things in a different way, can we also apply that perspective to ourselves?

A while ago an illustration by Reza Farazmand (also known as Poorly Drawn Lines) came across my social media feed. In this, we humans are compared to houseplants, but with more complicated emotions. I cannot deny nor confirm that plants do not have emotions, but I could connect with this idea of being a houseplant: stuck in one place, trying to catch the rays of sunlight coming through the window and needing water to survive (although sometimes getting that water tends to be forgotten). During a Transmission in Motion seminar on November 18th, 2020 Manuela Infante, who was the main guest, spoke about ‘Plant-based Dramaturgy’: a way of using dramaturgy that works with procedures such as branching, multitudes, layering, and phototropism. Procedures inspired by the way Infante looks at nature and how it behaves. She has used these procedures in multiple of her works, but the performance that she spoke most of during the seminar was Estado Vegetal (2019). In which at a certain point during the performance the performer turns herself into a plant, has a conversation with a plant, and eventually blends herself in with the other plants. We as humans might not ever be able to completely identify how plants and how they work. But what if we take this kind of mindset: a mindset wherein we analyze how nature behaves and identify ourselves with that observation. What if we during this pandemic become a plant? Maybe standing next to the other plants that are present in the space. If you imagine yourself as a plant, how would you describe your current state of being? Are you getting enough sunlight? Do you have access to water and are you able to grow in a nice pot? Or are you a bit neglected, longing for some attention, and entangled in your own roots? Now stop imagining yourself as a plant and ask yourself the same questions as a human.

Sometimes we cannot control where we stand, what the color of our pot is, or how the future will unfold itself, but we can control where we put our energy towards. Maybe we need to grow more to catch extra sunlight, maybe we have enough resources to grow some flowers, or maybe we are slowly destroying our environment around us by going places that we are not supposed to go to. In whatever state you may be, please remember: Plants don’t think in ideas, they think in movement. So stop thinking about how things can be better and start moving to something better.

References

• Corrieri, Augusto. 2017. “The rock, the butterfly, the moon, and the cloud: notes on dramaturgy in an ecological age.” In The Practice of Dramaturgy: Working on Actions in Performance, edited by Konstantina Georgelou, Danae Theodoridou and Efrosini Protopapa. 239-251. Amsterdam: Valiz.