The Art of Waste - Part I

Dumped almost ten metres high in an Oxfordshire field nearby River Cherwell, fly-tipped waste has recently caused an outcry in the media. [1] Understandably so, however, as we’ve crept into December I hesitate to be the bearer of bad news: Christmas, in the UK alone, generates nearly 700,000 tonnes of ‘waste’ a year… and it’s got to go somewhere. Consumerism operates in cycles of extraction, production, circulation and finally ‘disposal’, but the reality, as we know, is more complex. Throwing ‘away’ is a fallacy, and as philosopher Timothy Morton puts it:

“Now we know better: instead of the mythical land Away, we know that waste goes to the Pacific Ocean or the waste[...] treatment facility.” 

‘Waste studies’ is a field of multidisciplinary research that has emerged from this wasteland, defined as the ‘critical exploration of waste’. [2] A shift towards ecological thinking in contemporary art has led to a deeper interrogation of capitalism and its ‘waste’, considering how it relates to the terraforming of our planet, bodies and ecosystems. We are offered a chance to see, understand, and act on the (bodily, cultural, and societal) wastes, understanding that the exploitation of the material necessitates the exploitation of the living.

The critique of overconsumption, consumerism, and their by-products has a long history within art; from Barbara Kruger’s Untitled (I shop therefore I am) (1987) to El Anatsui’s Behind the Red Moon (2024). In her characteristic style, Kruger’s piece fused text and imagery, incorporating a play on the famous phrase by Descartes; ‘I think therefore I am.’ Descartes’ phrase was his attempt to describe an undeniable truth, and argued that our existence is proven by our capacity for thought. He argued that we build our realities upon this knowledge. Kruger’s modification challenges the audience to consider the extent to which our desires for buying and consuming products are replacing our critical thinking and genuine understanding of our own experiences. The image marries the text; a credit card sized text box held by a hand. The work suggests that the individual is a willing participant in their own oppression through their consumerist actions. Whilst Kruger employs the tools of marketing to critique it, she ultimately places the burden of responsibility on the individual.

Barbara Kruger – Untitled (I Shop Therefore I Am), 1987, Photo by F Delventhal

According to Jacques Rancière, our perception of the world is determined by a dominant social order. This ‘distribution of the sensible’ dictates what or who can be seen, said, and heard. Gineprini suggests that consumer culture uses this framework in a continuous process of devaluing and replacing items (and people) in our perceptual fields to maintain the illusion that objects simply disappear after their disposal. [3] Making waste visible subverts this normative ‘sensible’ and challenges our established modes of interpreting reality. However Kruger’s piece was eventually co-opted by consumer culture when a brand stole her work [4], turning it into a cynical nod to ’no ethical consumption under capitalism’, or worse, an endorsement of consumer culture. The piece may have become a product, rather than a disruption of consumerist ignorance, precisely because it avoided a direct encounter or confrontation with waste.

Mary Mattingly’s collage series ‘House and Universe’  (2012-2016) grapples with the reality of consumerism in a different way. Her own possessions are transformed into bundled sculptural masses which she then performs with; interacting with them in different environments. The resulting photographs serve as a record of her personal consumption and reflect our pervasive reliance on consumer chains. Mattingly provides a perspective on the complexity of ecological systems and excessive consumption by unselfconsciously placing waste in relation to the human body. Rather than assigning blame, her work observes the relationship between human and waste. Just like a hermit crab trying to navigate through life, she reveals the very tools of the ‘enemy’ - consumer culture - as a part of our path. 

Mary Mattingly, Life of Objects, 2013 (Part of the House and Universe series) © Mary Mattingly

Hermit crab using plastic as a shell, CC Colin and Sarah Northway, https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/ 

Someone has since been arrested over the Cherwell fly-tipping, but the problem is much larger than an individual shirking the costs/efforts of a waste management facility. The rubbish heap by the UK river will be cleared, but there is a large chance it will end up dumped elsewhere, and likely on the land of people living in poorer countries. In 2024, the UK exported 598 million kgs of plastic rubbish, a figure larger than the previous year, according to a report by the Environmental Investigation Agency. [5] 

‘Waste’ is a colonial issue; in fact, this has its own term: ‘Waste Colonialism’ which describes the ‘domination of land for the use of waste disposal’. [6] As consumption continues to rise, certain types of waste (plastic especially) can only be either incinerated or dumped. And if dumping isn’t allowed, it is incinerated and produces a huge carbon footprint - not to mention the cost to health, especially in communities that weren’t even responsible for its production in the first place.

Anthropologist Mary Douglas describes the phenomenon of ‘dirt’ as something that is considered ‘out of place’ and therefore inherently violating our ideal reality. Things aren’t inherently ‘dirty’ but only become so when they exist on the periphery of a specific system. ‘Waste’ is therefore also used to describe anything that disrupts the ‘distribution of the sensible’. It ranges in meaning (from barren or empty land to the excesses of consumerism) and those who handle it also become ‘tainted by it’, according to waste-theorist Susan Morrison. [7] ‘Waste’ humans who do not fit the ‘social order’ of Western Colonialism are assigned to live amongst waste.

‘The Gleaners and I’, or ‘Les Glaneurs et la glaneuse’, (2000) is a French documentary film by artist and film-maker Agnès Varda that explores these categories of waste through the practice of ‘gleaning’. Historically, gleaning began as the gathering of any remaining produce after a farm’s harvest period, but has since expanded to include any reclamation of waste, rural or urban. The film follows Varda as she interacts with various sites of gleaning and gleaners; those ‘waste’ humans who live in proximity to ‘waste’. 

Still from The Gleaners and I, Agnes Varda, 2000, © Agnes Varda

The film documents gleaners that visit a potato farm, where potatoes that are otherwise thrown ‘away’ or left to rot in giant heaps are saved from their demise. Agnes Varda picks up a heart shaped potato, and holds it to the camera - perhaps the irregular shape designates it as ‘waste’ as it disrupts the image of the ideal potato? Either driven by necessity or motivated by art or ethics, the gleaners featured in the film collect the crops that remain after the harvest, or food or items that would otherwise be thrown ‘away’. It is a rather striking reckoning with the masses of waste that have existed and continue to grow in our ‘leaky’ production systems. The act of gleaning is a rebellious one; reusing and re-claiming waste - but the fact is that the majority of ‘waste’ is not seen or gleaned upon. For example in the EU only 65% of WEEE* is collected and recycled, with the other 35% (2.2 million tonnes) thrown ‘away’ - often illegally exported to countries in the global south to be disposed of dangerously. [5] 

Beyond its stark portrayal of waste across the food systems, ‘The Gleaners and I’ also quietly tells the stories of people that are proximal to waste. The film also brings into question Kruger’s notion that consumerism obscures our own thinking/perspectives; Varda ‘gleans’ these moments with her camera and maintains her perspective within the film. She does not claim to be a neutral observer and recognises her own relationship to waste, suggesting that “the artist who collects materials from the roadside is, in a sense, a gleaner too.”

El Anatsui's signature works are his large metallic sculptures composed of thousands of discarded bottle caps connected by copper wire. His works similarly ‘glean’ waste; reconnecting politics with everyday life through his material choices and use of recycled materials. Anatsui’s work tackles themes of oppression and over-consumption, recentering of ‘out of place’ materials and people. The materials he uses have repeatedly encountered human touch and carry the history of their trade routes. Shiny metallic curtains with symbols of a natural landscape from afar become reminders of a global industry built on colonial trade routes when viewed up close. The endless bottle caps sourced from alcohol bottles reference the slave trade (products were traded for people) as well as the trauma that ensued. Anatsui’s pieces consider the history and interconnectedness of these consumer relationships with everyday life and their long lasting legacies; re-framing what we consider to be waste or what we allow to be visible.

El Anatsui ©, In the World, But don’t know the World? (2009), October Gallery.

The distinction between what is seen and what remains hidden is never a neutral act. Certain experiences and people are centered and acknowledged, whilst others are rendered invisible or pushed to the periphery. This paradigm upholds the agenda of endless production, consumption and ‘disposal’ and is enforced by institutions, and even held within the design of the physical spaces we live in, the architecture of our cities. By noticing ‘waste’ we may begin to reframe our relationship to it, and reconsider what we think we know about it.

References:

[1] Gilyeat, Dave, and Jamie Morris. “Trucks Seen Dumping Mountain of Waste in Kidlington for Months.” BBC News, November 19, 2025. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cly25ed0155o.  

[2] Gille, Zsuzsa, and Josh Lepawsky. The Routledge Handbook of Waste Studies, 2021. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003019077. 

[3] Gineprini, Lorenzo. “Aesthetics and Politics of Waste: Rejects in Consumer Society’s Distribution of the Sensible.” The Nordic Journal of Aesthetics 33, no. 68 (December 19, 2024). https://doi.org/10.7146/nja.v33i68.152363. 

[4] Stoeffel, Kat. “I Think About When Barbara Kruger Dragged Supreme a Lot.” The Cut, November 6, 2017. https://www.thecut.com/2017/11/i-think-about-when-barbara-kruger-dragged-supreme-a-lot.html. 

[5] Directorate-General for Environment. “Staff Working Document Evaluation of the Directive 2012/19/EU on Waste Electrical and Electronic Equipment (WEEE).” European Commission, July 2, 2025. https://environment.ec.europa.eu/publications/staff-working-document-evaluation-directive-201219eu-waste-electrical-and-electronic-equipment-weee_en.

[6] Mutti, Adele. “Waste Colonialism: A Brief History | Earth.Org.” Earth.Org, August 14, 2025. https://earth.org/waste-colonialism-a-brief-history-of-dumping-rich-countries-trash-in-the-global-south/. 

[7] Morrison, Susan. “Waste in Literature and Culture: Aesthetics, Form, and Ethics.” Europe Now Journal, May 6, 2019. https://www.europenowjournal.org/2019/05/06/waste-in-literature-and-culture-aesthetics-form-and-ethics/.