On March 10, 1914, 32-year-old Mary Richardson visited the National Gallery of Art in London in hopes of finally being able to view Diego Velázquez's “The Rokeby Venus” in person. Depicting a naked woman as she reclines across a luxuriously draped bed alongside a representation of Cupid, the work has a prominent place in the National Gallery’s collection as one of the only portrayals of nudity from 17th century Spanish art. Yet Richardson, a prominent suffragette of her time, did not intend to solely admire the painting at a distance. Enraged by the recent arrest of another suffragette, Emmeline Pankhurst, she began to wield a meat cleaver smuggled into the museum and attacked the canvas, leaving several gashes on the painting’s surface. Though the painting was successfully restored, contemporary writings and criticisms of the action featured heavily charged language, accusing Richardson of having committed an act as reprehensible as murder.
Although immediately resulting in controversy, most audiences today would retrospectively agree that Richardson’s protest against the glorification of the male gaze in defense of women’s fundamental rights resulted in positive change and awareness towards a growing issue. And so, despite having occurred a century prior, Richardson’s actions continue to inspire modern activists fighting for similar instances of progress. Most prominently, the same criticisms once used for the suffragette are being echoed today in the controversies surrounding Just Stop Oil, a climate change group drawing media attention for its attempts to vandalize and damage famous artworks by Monet, Van Gogh and Munch with substances as varied as soup, mashed potatoes and glue. Videos of these events have gone viral beyond the art world, garnering hundreds of thousands of views on social media, and subsequently, hundreds of outraged comments. Despite these parallels, how does Richardson’s method of activism actually compare to the actions of Just Stop Oil, and are they justified in their pursuit of global change?
In an age dominated by social media and the narratives it perpetuates across all aspects of society, it has become more and more difficult to draw the public’s attention toward pressing challenges. As a result, extravagant stunts and displays of action like those of Just Stop Oil have proliferated. As popular art history YouTuber The Canvas states in his video covering the subject, it is undeniable that the group’s intentions target a common societal interest in slowing down the rapid progression of climate change. Climate change affects the lives of everyone on the planet, regardless of national origin or political affiliation. Yet, despite receiving significantly greater political attention than 50 years ago, new international policies and diplomatic agreements still fail to match the drastic changes necessary to combat the amounts of pollution spread by large oil companies. As time passes and CO2 levels increase, future approaches to solving this issue will become even more difficult to achieve. From this perspective, it can be argued that the group’s radical approach to prompting an immediate dialogue around climate change — even if it angers many — is entirely justified considering the current lack of progress. Such a dialoge is essential if we want to save the planet. Even to the most outraged critics of Just Stop Oil, their words, asking “What is worth more, art or life? … Are you more concerned about the protection of a painting or the protection of our planet and people?” are admittedly quite thought-provoking.
Though their intentions and the conversations produced may be productive, the same cannot be said for the targets of their vandalism. Featuring a female subject, “The Rokeby Venus” and its use of the nude was ultimately designed to solely stimulate the male gaze, maintaining a centuries-old artistic tradition of objectifying women’s bodies for the sake of aesthetic pleasure. Thus, Richardson’s destruction of the painting can be interpreted as a direct reaction to its subject matter and its widespread, positive reception — an active act of protest against a painting that perpetuated problematic values. However, works like Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers,” Monet’s “Haystacks” or Constable’s “The Hay Wain” do not glorify climate change but rather the natural beauty found in the very landscapes the group is trying to protect. As a result, these acts of vandalism do not share the same provocative nature as the destruction of “The Rokeby Venus.” Instead, they appear as unorganized demonstrations of frustration unfairly directed toward artistic institutions.
As stated earlier, while any media attention on climate change is productive, most would agree that this impact can be greatly amplified with a different target. Why destroy unrelated artworks being enjoyed by museumgoers and their families instead of objects directly concerning oil mining CEOs, politicians and the institutions that support these environmentally harmful industries? Even if one dissects Just Stop Oil’s choice to throw soup on “Sunflowers” as a comment on how collective society treats and harms its own environment, this meaning will be lost by a majority of the public, leading to confusion regarding the group’s intentions.
However, this still does not account for how it affects average museumgoers who lose the opportunity to view the painting in real life, or the staff responsible for cleaning up the space and then restoring the work. In these cases, the anger directed towards Just Stop Oil is warranted, as individuals other than the group’s target become responsible for the fallout of their actions. As a result, the group’s radical approach to activism will certainly isolate many who may begin to associate climate change advocacy with chaos and the unlawful destruction of property.
The news coverage of Just Stop Oil is unprecedented. Within a short amount of time, their extreme displays have garnered mass attention outside of the art world and have initiated new conversations about the extent to which we genuinely care about climate change in comparison to less important, yet culturally significant, objects in museum collections. As irreversible global warming threatens the environmental stability of future generations, the group’s ultimate intentions are certainly valid. However, their flawed methods of protest fail to address or intimidate the true perpetrators behind these forces, instead isolating the public unity they critically need to create significant change. Although history has since softened on Mary Richardson’s vandalism, apart from the criticism of her contemporaries, is it certain that the same treatment will be applied to Just Stop Oil decades from now?
