Prepare to be mesmerized: Olafur Eliasson, the visionary artist, uses his art to ignite our collective hope for a better world. I was completely captivated by an enormous sun, its surface seemingly alive with tiny explosions. It's a breathtaking, yet slightly unsettling, experience.
In the mirrors surrounding this glowing orb, I noticed the artist himself, Olafur Eliasson, known globally for his installations that challenge our perception, taking selfies with the crowd.
This was the opening night of Presence, a major exhibition showcasing Eliasson's 30-year career, held at the Gallery of Modern Art (GOMA) in Meanjin/Brisbane. The exhibition features his iconic works, including Riverbed from 2014, a room filled with 100 tonnes of sand, river pebbles, and rock, alongside other immersive pieces that play with light, color, and movement, and photographs that highlight the climate crisis.
The sun, also titled Presence, immediately brought to mind The Weather Project, Eliasson's acclaimed 2003 installation at Tate Modern's Turbine Hall. That installation became a communal space, fostering a sense of shared humanity.
I had the chance to speak with Eliasson and the exhibition's curator, Geraldine Kirrihi Barlow, a few days earlier. Eliasson explained, "When you move, it moves. The sun is asking you to notice that your presence makes a difference. Your actions have consequences."
Eliasson sees the audience as active participants in his work. What you see depends on your perspective, a reminder that we all experience the world differently. One of the new works, Your Negotiable Vulnerability Seen From Two Perspectives (2025), uses light polarization to shift as you move, with colors changing and appearing.
Beauty (1993) transforms something as simple as dripping water into a transcendent experience. It's not magic, but the way the light interacts with the water droplets creates a rainbow.
Presence transforms the gallery into a journey of discovery. Many rooms are dimly lit, while others are bright.
Eliasson, who grew up between Denmark and Iceland, draws inspiration from the Icelandic landscapes. His photographs of Iceland anchor the exhibition in a reality that is both beautiful and confronting.
His Glacier Melt series, composed of 30 pairs of photographs taken 20 years apart (in 1999 and 2019), reveals the dramatic impact of climate change.
Riverbed takes on a new significance in this context. It's designed to disorient the eye, featuring a stream of water winding through the rocky landscape, representing what will remain when the glaciers are gone.
Eliasson hopes we can overcome our numbness to this reality. He rejects the idea that nature created inside a gallery is fundamentally different from nature outside, stating, "There is no outside and inside. There is only the world."
Here's where it gets controversial: Eliasson, despite his despair, calls himself a "prisoner of hope." He references Indigenous philosophies and the movement to grant legal rights to natural features.
Presence aims to offer both awareness and agency, fostering a sense of connection and possibility. Visitors can collaborate to build a collective dream city using 500,000 pieces of white Lego, Eliasson's The Cubic Structural Evolution Project (2004).
Barlow spent two months with Studio Olafur Eliasson, a unique collaboration. Eliasson would ask Barlow, "Where am I blind? What can you see that I can’t?"
Eliasson's generosity is evident in his conversations. He spoke with me for over an hour, exceeding the allotted time.
He hopes people feel a sense of peace after leaving GOMA. He says, "This gallery, like Iceland, is a place where I can exhale. That softening is the currency of tomorrow. That type of tenderness is actually fierce. And that is presence."
What do you think? Does art have the power to inspire hope and action in the face of global challenges? Share your thoughts in the comments!
