Introduction
Nature has always been the main theme in my artwork. My work is based on my love for nature, which brings me healing and hope. In recent years, I have often found myself surrounded by conversations about death. From the loss of friends’ family members to the passing of my own grandfather, I was led to reflect on life and how we should face death when it comes. To cope with my grandfather’s passing, I found comfort in turning to nature. According to the theory of interspecies entanglements, all life is interconnected. I believe that there is a transformative energy in nature that allows life to continue. When people die, they enter nature and are transformed into a new life form, continuing to be with us in a different way. In this way, death is not an end but part of a continuous cycle of birth, death, and rebirth, merging human life with nature. Combining with the myth of Nüwa creating humans from clay, if the soil is polluted, then so are we.
In this essay, I will explore how we can explore the interconnectedness of life forms through mythological stories, using fungi to rethink the new symbiosis between humans and the non-human world from a contemporary perspective of the Anthropocene. I will focus on three parts:
- Mythological Stories: Exploring life and nature’s cycle through myths.
- The Anthropocene: Rethinking the new relationship between humans and the non-human world from a contemporary perspective.
- New Symbiosis: Examining the new symbiosis between humans and plastic, highlighting how humans have become one with environmental pollution.
Mythology narrative
The question of where humans come from and where we go has always been a profound topic of exploration. This question concerns every individual’s life and our curiosity about what happens after death and whether reincarnation exists. I subscribe to the view that humans are ecologically intertwined with nature and that life is reborn in various forms within the natural world. The connection between our lives and nature can be traced back to ancient Chinese mythology.
In Chinese mythology, the story of Nüwa creating humanity is widely known, with references in texts like the Shan Hai Jing (Classic of Mountains and Seas) and Feng Su Tong (Book of Rites). These accounts describe a time when the earth was barren of human life, and Nüwa used yellow earth to mould the shape of humans. Due to physical limitations, she employed ropes to shape them into forms, granting them life (Shan Hai Jing, 2nd century BCE). Similarly, in the Western biblical account, the Book of Genesis states that God formed man from dust, declaring ‘For dust you are and to dust you will return’ (Genesis 3:19, New International Version), symbolizing the cyclical relationship between life and the material world. Both the Chinese myth of Nüwa and the biblical creation story use earth or dust as a symbolic origin of life, emphasizing the deep connection between humanity and nature. The earth serves not only as the material foundation of human life but also symbolizes our interconnectedness with the natural world. In my creative practice, I extract natural dyes, using brown dye made from alder cones to infuse my Fungi print with a sense of life emerging from the soil, symbolizing the inherent bond between life and nature. Artist Tanoa Sasraku similarly explores this connection by using earth pigments to capture the energy, mythology, and memories embedded in the British landscape. Her works, which undergo a process of layering, tearing, and immersion in natural elements like rivers, seas, or marshes, integrate the essence of these landscapes into the artwork itself.
In many mythological traditions, the soul or consciousness is often regarded as a higher form of existence, transcending material limitations and approaching “divinity” or “truth.” Yet, these myths also reflect the close bond between the human body and the material world, highlighting that our connection to nature extends beyond the physical to include the spiritual and soulful dimensions. This relationship between life and nature is recurrent in various cultures and religions, reminding us that life is not just an individual existence but is intricately intertwined and symbiotic with the surrounding natural world.
Just as we are buried in the earth after death, regardless of how our bodies are disposed of, we ultimately merge with nature. In nature, the death of an organism typically leads to its decomposition, transforming it into organic soil that, over time, accumulates to form the foundation for new life. Fungi emerge from death, symbolising the regenerative power of nature. This regenerative ability of fungi became particularly evident after the devastation of Hiroshima in 1945, when the first organism to appear from the rubble was a species of Matsutake mushroom. Therefore, my Mushrooms at Night series reflects this miraculous scene that I encountered in the forest—towering trees, fallen, decomposing, and from this chaos, mushrooms sprouted. This birth of mushrooms represents the rebirth of life through decay. Through the perspective of mushrooms, I express my understanding of ecological cycles: energy flows into the earth, transferring into new life forms. The relationship between humans and nature is deeply intertwined when humans connect with the fungal networks that form symbiotic relationships with plants. As Sheldrake (2020, p.15) notes, “Without the fungal network, trees cannot survive independently; all plants depend on this network to grow.” This interdependence of life is not limited to trees but extends to human life, reflecting how our life forms are shaped by these fungal networks.
In the Mycelium work, I depict the intricate and interwoven forms of fungi, which unexpectedly reveal the merging of two spaces—above and below ground. Through this visual representation, the work explores how organic matter underground is transformed into new energy, while showcasing the flow and interconnectedness of energy between human and non-human life forms in nature. This process brings to mind the drawings of Santiago Ramón y Cajal, who, through the use of microscopes to observe body tissues, presented images that resembled forests. The neuron networks he depicted were not only complex and beautiful but also densely connected, much like a “forest”, suggesting the similarity between the human body and nature. Similarly, the work of photographer Alicja Brodowicz presents a comparable exploration, where she contrasts the subtle structures of the human body with those in nature to explore the shared qualities between humans and the natural world. As she states: “We are not so different from the land we inhabit. We are not so different from the nature around us.” (Brodowicz, 2020).
Fay Ballard’s artwork Buried Below captures the landscape above her mother’s grave through drawing, influenced by psychoanalytic ideas that view creativity as a means of healing. By drawing, Ballard processes her grief and transforms her personal loss. This approach later influenced my Fungi lithograph series, where I employ drawing as a healing tool, using it to magnify the intricate structures of fungi and explore varied life forms. In a similar way, Robert Fludd (1574-1637) proposed that microcosmic and macrocosmic worlds are connected—a concept that I believe applies to fungi and life itself, with fungi embodying a bridge between life and death.
The Tibetan term “samsara” in the film Samsara symbolises life’s cyclical nature, encompassing the endless loop of birth and death. The film initially portrays the grandeur of the natural world but gradually transitions to a mechanised, modern landscape, revealing humanity’s exploitation and domination over nature. Scenes from industrial environments show cows repeatedly milked and sows confined in steel cages, endlessly providing milk to their piglets until the end of their lives. Through these depictions, the film highlights the exploitation of animals for human benefit, underscoring a disconnection from nature in a way that ironically neglects the fundamental essence of life itself.
Nietzsche’s theory of eternal recurrence posits that time is cyclical, with history repeating endlessly. Therefore, when humans intervene in nature and disrupt the organic environment that sustains the cycle of life and death, they are creating an irreversible moment in time, marking the arrival of what we call “history”.
Anthropocene
Tsing (2015) points out in Art & Ecology Now that although humans and nature were once an integrated whole, the expansion of civilisation and the overuse of Earth’s resources by humans have gradually eroded wilderness areas. The impact of technology on living beings has deepened, especially in the context of industrial agriculture and global transportation. As a result, the relationships between humans and the land, others, and each other have profoundly changed. Traditional cultural, geographical, and social boundaries have been redefined, with many formerly opposing domains, such as nature/culture, individual/community, and nation/international, becoming increasingly blurred.
The term “Anthropocene” is sometimes seen as a triumph of human ecological governance. However, Tsing argues that it is, in fact, the result of humanity unintentionally plunging the Earth into disorder. The emergence of the Anthropocene is not due to human biological characteristics but rather the rise of modern capitalism, which has driven the exploitative destruction of landscapes and ecosystems. Following the rise of capitalism, humans have closely linked the concept of “progress” with the alienating spread of technology, continually altering the relationship between humans and nature. Tsing also emphasises that humanity’s obsession with “progress” limits our understanding of non-human temporalities, ignoring the complex temporal relationships between living beings. Modern humans’ arrogance assumes that humans are the most important life forms on Earth, with the ability to change and dominate the world. This mindset elevates human “progress” as supreme, even suggesting that nature and other life forms should serve human objectives.
Tsing (2015) argues that if we let go of the singular pursuit of “progress”, we can discover multiple ways of “creating worlds”, which include not only human endeavours but also non-human ones. All life forms reshape the world through their cyclical growth, reproduction, and expansion, influencing and altering our planet. Tsing reminds us to learn to look around us, rather than simply forward, as this helps us better understand the impact of various livelihoods on the world and observe the diverse temporalities in nature, rather than merely following the human-centred idea of “progress”.
The “industrial promise” typically refers to the commitment of industrialised societies to economic growth, technological advancement, and the improvement of human living conditions. Since the Industrial Revolution, society has gradually embraced this belief, assuming that through industrial processes, continuous progress and prosperity could be achieved. However, this promise has also brought about numerous ecological, social, and economic challenges, such as resource overconsumption and environmental pollution. As the new century progresses, the relationship between employment and nature appears increasingly contradictory. Despite the inevitability of economic and ecological crises, people continue to be preoccupied with survival issues. Even with employment measures in place, job levels in the United States are not as high as they were in the twentieth century. In the pursuit of survival and urban development, people have begun engaging in activities that destroy nature, such as deforestation, which further exacerbates environmental degradation. However, the destruction of the environment is not merely a local issue; it has the potential to threaten the survival of all, regardless of employment status.
Against this backdrop, the “industrial promise” is being reassessed, with growing scepticism about whether this promise can truly deliver sustainable prosperity, or whether a more diversified approach is needed to address the environmental and social issues brought about by industrialisation.
In The Mushroom at the End of the World: On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins, Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing explores how modern forestry transforms natural forests into “industrial resources”, thereby stripping them of their natural history (Tsing, 2015). Through a comparison of Finnish and Russian forests, she reveals the differing impacts of forest management ideologies on nature. In Finland, the forests appear exceptionally tidy, with no fallen trees or clutter, resembling an artificial plantation. This “neatness” is considered a manifestation of “modern discipline”, blurring the boundary between the natural and the artificial (Tsing, 2015). In contrast, the Russian forests appear more “chaotic”, with uneven tree growth and the forest floor covered in dead wood and moss, left untouched by human intervention. This contrast highlights two fundamentally different approaches to forest management: one that “manages” nature through clearing and orderly planting, and another that respects nature’s disorder and change.
Artist Marjolijn Dijkman also points out in Art & Ecology Now that the natural landscapes in the Netherlands are almost entirely human-designed, with what is often referred to as “nature” being altered or engineered (Dijkman, 2021). The “authenticity” of these landscapes is questioned, further blurring the lines between the natural and the artificial.
In Silent Spring, Rachel Carson states that modern society is in a long-standing state of decline, yet remains unaware of it, accepting phenomena that have become routine. She compares the current system to a “Faustian bargain”, trading long-term tragic costs for short-term gains. Carson notes that many pesticides are ineffective in reducing pest numbers; while there is an initial decline in pest populations, the pests eventually adapt to these chemicals through genetic mutation, rendering the pesticides ineffective. This view highlights humanity’s blindness and arrogance in its relationship with nature, overlooking nature’s self-regulating abilities and the long-term consequences of human actions (Carson, 1962).
In the animated short film ypok/The Lesson (1987), a group of invaders arrives on a new planet and plunders its resources. After killing the local creatures, they are eventually consumed by their own actions and transform into the very species they had killed. This narrative reminds me that if modern society continues to exploit nature without restraint, humans will eventually have to pay the price for their actions. In the animation, the invader picks an apple to eat but does not transform into an apple; however, after cutting down the apple tree, he turns into that tree. My interpretation is that humans can use natural resources in moderation, but excessive exploitation will lead to nature’s retaliation. Today, humanity’s actions have pushed nature to its limits—what will the cost be? As Carson (1962) argues in Silent Spring, maintaining natural balance is the primary force for human survival.
Tsing’s concept of “third nature” refers to life forms that continue to survive within the capitalist system, such as wild mushrooms, which grow resiliently in the ruins of capitalism. She opposes the view of nature and culture as opposites, emphasising that humans are also a part of nature. Humans need to reconsider the meaning of progress, move beyond the myth of controlling nature, and return to a symbiotic relationship with it. As Drury (2010) states, “humans are nature”; the challenge we face is how to address the issue of humans seeing themselves as separate from nature. The city is also part of nature; nature is not external to us but is with us at all times (Drury, 2010).
New symbiosis
In Field Death: Microbial “Destruction” in Polluted Soils (Zanzu, 2024), the author explores the introduction and persistence of industrial pollutants in soil, arguing that this issue is becoming increasingly urgent. While natural factors such as volcanic eruptions and mineral seepage contribute to soil pollution, the primary source is human activity, particularly agricultural practices, waste management, and the metallurgy and smelting industries. These activities disperse heavy metals such as copper, lead, nickel, zinc, cadmium, platinum, chromium, and arsenic into the environment, severely impacting ecosystems. Industrial waste and residues accumulate in the soil for extended periods, making it a lasting concern. Soil, as the source of life, binds humans and nature closely together. Once the land is contaminated, humans are inevitably affected by these pollutants (Zanzu, 2024).
Kelly Chorpening’s Old Friends and Plastic sparked my deep interest in the concepts of the Anthropocene and new symbiosis. In my own video work What’s on the Ground (2024), I document plastic waste found in the forest. As Kelly notes, “When she moved out of the dense urban environment of London, this change allowed her to encounter ‘nature,’ ironically making her encounter trash inevitable.” Plastic pollution is a persistent issue, infiltrating both our bodies and the environment. In 2004, the term “microplastics” was coined to describe plastic particles smaller than five millimetres. Microplastics have been discovered in municipal drinking water systems and are found floating in the air (Parker, 2024). “From the deepest part of the Mariana Trench to the summit of Mount Everest, microplastics are everywhere” (Aridi, 2020). Plastic pollution has become ubiquitous.
As Jozie Rotolo (2024) explains, fungi play a crucial role as decomposers in our ecosystems. They can break down complex substances, including plastics, by producing enzymes that break these materials into simple molecules, which the fungi then absorb. Fungi require a carbon source, and fortunately, plastic can serve as this source. Since the invention of plastic a century ago, it has shifted from being a convenient, time-saving material to a scourge of modern society, filling up our landfills. Fortunately, fungi have provided an alternative ecological solution, with studies revealing that oyster mushrooms can digest plastic, offering a potential way to address this issue (Defebaugh, 2022).
In my Fungi series of lithographs, I use fungi to express the themes of life’s rebirth, the entanglement with nature, and fungi’s potential for natural restoration, offering my imagination of the flow of life. I capture stills from my photographic work What’s on the Ground (2024) and combine plastic elements with photo transfer techniques to depict a new symbiosis between humans and nature within the context of the Anthropocene. These works address the relationships between life, fungi, and humanity’s connection with nature, while also exploring the reparative role fungi play with the soil. Through these expressions, I aim to convey the interconnection and dependency of life forms in the natural world.
In Entangled Life, I integrate all these elements within a “folding” installation format to represent the overlapping and entangling of life forms across different levels and material layers. This format reminds the viewer that life is not singular or linear but is a complex web full of entanglements and intersections. In the Inject Monoprint series, I focus on tree branches as a subject of my drawings. Not only do branches connect with underground fungal networks, but they also intertwine with tree roots, creating another expression of a neural network. The underground networks are often unseen, while the branches above ground are tangible, illustrating the extension and power of life in nature. In my work, branches are not merely visual elements but act as mediators to express the interdependence of life.
Human intervention in landscapes leaves behind a shared existence with nature, as seen in the work of artist Chris Jordan, who has long focused on the effects of mass consumption on land surfaces, particularly from waste disposal and the damage caused by consumer and industrial products. His work Venus’ Birth is made from 240,000 plastic bags, while Wave is created from 2.4 million pieces of plastic collected from the Pacific. These works powerfully highlight our symbiotic relationship with trash, reflecting the oppressive nature of human consumption on the environment. Jordan argues that although the scale of such consumption seems desolate, terrifying, and even ironically absurd, it hints at a remarkable complexity. His pieces awaken viewers to the awareness of environmental changes and remind us of our individual responsibility in protecting the planet’s future.
David Maisel, through his photography, explores the physical impact of industrial activities such as mining, logging, water recycling, and military testing on the land. His works, often taken from an aerial perspective, capture remote areas that are difficult to access, documenting the relationship between natural systems and human intervention. His Lakes project, which includes images of Owens Lake, shows the process of the lake being drained in the early 20th century to supply water to Los Angeles. Once a fertile valley, Owens Lake became a barren, arid landscape, with sandstorms from the dry lakebed spreading carcinogenic particles that severely polluted the air and water. The lake became a symbol of water scarcity, negating natural resources and leaving emptiness behind.
These images present an otherworldly beauty in the degradation of the environment, illustrating the profound impact of large-scale human activities on nature. Maisel’s aerial views reveal the intricate relationship between human behaviour and the natural world, where these landscapes serve as both records of physical phenomena and metaphors for environmental crisis. As he notes, this visual “sublimity” strikes the viewer with both awe and reverence.
Conclusion
From a mythological perspective, I began to explore the relationship between humans and nature, emphasizing that humans and nature are an inseparable whole. At the same time, I analysed the process by which humans, in the pursuit of progress, have resorted to environmental destruction. In this process, pollutants such as plastic and river contamination have gradually become remnants, symbolising our erosion of nature. Through the works of various artists, I examined the new symbiosis in the Anthropocene—humanity coexisting with the natural environment it has damaged. In my own artistic practice, particularly in works like Entangled Life and the Fungi series, I delved into the entanglement between human and natural life and the possibilities of this new symbiosis.
Soil, as the origin of life, represents the purity of nature and the cycle of life. However, pollution and environmental degradation ultimately affect us, as humanity and nature are inherently one—we live in symbiosis with the pollution we have created. In this process, new symbiosis not only reflects a profound ecological reflection but also touches on the potential for human action and ecological restoration. Despite the immense damage caused to nature in the pursuit of development, we must eventually coexist with the polluted environment we have created. This new symbiosis represents our acceptance of the consequences of our actions. It may be seen as a punishment for our behaviour, or perhaps as a path toward self-redemption.
References
Books
Carson, R. (1962). Silent Spring. Houghton Mifflin.
Drury, R. (2010). The Natural World: Human and Nature in the Anthropocene. Routledge.
Drury, A. (2010). The Greening of the Urban Environment: Re-thinking the City and Nature. London: Routledge.
Haraway, D. (2015). ‘Anthropocene, Capitalocene, Plantationocene, Chthulucene: Making Kin.’ Environmental Humanities, 6(1), 159-165.
Sheldrake, R. (2020). Entangled Life: How Fungi Make Our Worlds, Change Our Minds, and Shape Our Futures. Vintage.
Tsing, A. L. (2015). The Mushroom at the End of the World: On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins. Princeton University Press.
Thompson, N. (2014). Art & Ecology Now. Thames & Hudson.
Articles and Journals
Aridi, R. (2020). ‘Microplastics found from deepest ocean trench to Everest,’ National Geographic, 20 January. Available at: https://www.nationalgeographic.com(Accessed: 27 October 2024).
Defebaugh, S. (2022). ‘Fungi may hold the key to plastic degradation,’ Eco-Friendly Solutions, 5 February. Available at: https://www.ecofriendlysolutions.com (Accessed: 27 October 2024).
Kelly, A. (2024). ‘Walking through Nature: A Reflection on Trash and Beauty.’ Available at: https://www.walkingthroughnature.com (Accessed: 15 May 2024).
Parker, L. (2024). ‘Microplastics found in air and water,’ The Guardian, 15 April. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com (Accessed: 27 October 2024).
Rotolo, J. (2024). ‘Fungi’s role in breaking down plastics,’ Journal of Environmental Biology, 18 March. Available at: https://www.journalofbiology.com (Accessed: 27 October 2024).
Study.com, n.d. Nuwa in Chinese mythology: Role & family worship. Available at:https://study.com/academy/lesson/nuwa-chinese-mythology-role-family-worship.html [Accessed 26 Oct. 2024].
Zanzu, S. (2024). ‘The death of the field: “Destruction” of microorganisms in polluted soils,’ Environmental Science Quarterly, 19 October, pp. 42-53. Available at: https://doi.org/10.2307/jj.8595643.11 (Accessed: 12 October 2024).
Films
Fricke, R. and Magidson, M. (2011). Samsara. United States: Magidson Films.
Sahakyants, R. (1987). The Lesson [animated short film]. Armenia: Armenfilm.
Other Sources
Jordan, C. (2024). Born from Waste: The Art of Consumption. New York: EcoArt Publications.
Maisel, D. (2024). Lakes: Photographs of Environmental Change. Chicago: Nature Press.
Rotolo, J. (2024). ‘The role of fungi in ecological restoration,’ Environmental Science Journal, 58(2), pp. 340-358.
Zanzu, L. (2024). Field Death: Microbial “Destruction” in Polluted Soils. New York: Environmental Press.
About the author
Huiyan Zhang is an artist based in London and China, graduating in 2024 with an MA in Fine Art Printmaking from Camberwell College of Arts. Her work explores the interconnectedness of nature, focusing on themes of loss, rebirth, and decay, inspired by fungi and microscopic life forms.
Using photography, video, and drawing, Huiyan incorporates experimentation in her printmaking process to create layered works. Influenced by Merlin Sheldrake’s writings and Wim van Egmond’s macro photography, she highlights the entanglement of human life with nature and environmental challenges.
Website: https://huiyanzhang.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ivyhuiyan_zhang/