Imbolc - Feb 2022

During this event we prepared for getting out of hibernation by celebrating the Gaelic festivity Imbolc, which announces the arrival of the sun. On Wednesday the 2nd of February we came together in for a screening of the film ‘Wild Relatives’ by Jumana Manna (which will involve popcorn;). The film counts the relocation of an agricultural research center from Aleppo (Syria) to Lebanon. The seeds replanted in the Bekaa valley in Lebanon are taken from the Svalbard Global Seed Vault in Norway, which safeguards seeds from all over the world for cases of emergency. ‘Wild Relatives’ traces connections between the Artic and Lebanon while problematizing the labour relations involved. The film was followed by a short discussion where artist Anh Dao will share about her research on the relationship between flora, capitalism, and colonialism and give advice on which seeds to plant on the rooftop. We also presented our plans for the build-up of the Rooftop Garden, ending with a short ritual to welcome the arrival of spring.

See the full report below.

The Gaelic festivity Imbolc takes place on the 1st of February, about halfway between the winter solstice and the spring equinox and announces the return of the sun. As the earth is slowly awakening during this time, we took the occasion to think about the seeds to plant in spring. For this small event we prepared the 1e Inbreiding with blankets, pillows, and garlands and offered popcorn and other snacks.

We gathered with a small group, lying, or sitting on the floor, to watch the film ‘Wild Relatives’ by Jumana Manna. The film investigates the relocation of an agricultural research centre from Aleppo to the Bekaa valley in Lebanon, as a consequence of the Syrian war. To this end, seeds were retrieved from the Svalbard Global Seed Vault in Norway, also known as doomsday vault, that safeguards seeds from all over the world for emergencies. Beautifully shot, the film juxtaposes images of the researchers in the agricultural centre, refugee women working in the fields, local farmers from the valley who struggle to sustain themselves, and the Norwegian village that houses the seed vault, tracing the journey of the seeds across continents.

The screening was followed by a discussion; some of the participants were fascinated by one of the farmers from the Bekaa valley who built his own heirloom seed bank and established links of mutual support with other farmers in the area, thereby attempting to resist the commercialization and standardisation of seeds enforced by global seed governance. This was followed by a discussion about the uniformity of vegetables in the supermarket, being selectively bred to suit industrial production and distribution processes. We then introduced our guest Anh Dao, an artist, film maker, and recent Piet Zwart graduate who wrote her thesis on the relationship between colonialism, capitalism, and flora. When thinking about the seeds to plant on the rooftop Anh suggested choosing them intentionally, to learn about the history of the plants, and investigate which ones are native to the Netherlands. She also explained how calling plants ‘weeds’ is a misconception, the word ‘weed’ designates harmful and invasive species, while most of the plants we refer to as ‘weeds’ enhance the health of the soil, so we should call them ‘wild plants’ instead. For example, dandelions, which grow in the most hostile environments, like cracks in asphalt, are edible plants.

Anh’s research was also concerned with the discourse around ‘nativity’, as it is hard to determine how long a plant needs to be settled in a certain environment to be called ‘native’. The official definition says that plants which got introduced longer than 500 years ago are native, but some plants which used to grow in Northern Europe before the Ice Age didn’t make their way back over the Alps after the region started warming up again and were brought back later by humans, which complicates the definition. Anh also pointed out how many indigenous names for plants, and with this much knowledge, were lost due to colonisation and the consequential spread of the Latin naming system. One participant noted that the original coffee plant, from which all the coffee that is planted and consumed today stems, is located in Amsterdam due to colonial theft.

When we asked Anh what she would plant on the Rooftop Garden, she answered flowers for the bees and native plants, explaining that what’s beneficial for the local flora differs between geographical contexts, in Europe the concept of indigenous plants is vaguer, compared to, for example, her native Canada. The importance of seeds and their power also became apparent in an example Anh gave about enslaved women who braided seeds for yams and wild rice into their hair to bring them over the Atlantic and grow their own food.

We also wanted to share our plans for the design of the Rooftop Garden with the group. It was important for us to choose a design that we could realise in large parts ourselves and with the WdKA community. Next to the raised beds already present on the rooftop we were planning to add lower and higher raised beds that could shelter different types of local vegetables, flowers, and herbs. To lower the noise from the ventilation, which, despite being encased by wood panels, permeates through the whole space, and makes it difficult to have conversations, we were planning on organising workshops to build a mycelium and moss wall that would absorb at least part of the sound. The tent, now covering big parts of the rooftop, would also need to be moved, and shadow would be provided by a pergola overgrown with climbing plants. Further, we were planning on transforming the inaccessible area of the rooftop, now covered with gravel, into a green roof, and build an insect hotel, planters, and a stage for concert during further workshops. The event was ended abruptly by a loudspeaker announcement signalling the closing of the building.