It’s summer. The sun is warm and the sky is clear. You’re walking along the Cairns esplanade, the boardwalk that separates the urban and natural realms. You turn to face the ocean, expecting a vast and mysterious stretch of cool blues and greens to the horizon. Instead you are greeted by the sight of receding tides that reveal the grim mudflats, littered with the scum of the sea and human detritus. Distressed by the scene, you turn towards the city’s edge and are barraged by bright colours and perfect depictions of the environment. For a moment you are swept up in the pretty images and imitations of nature and you are content to let yourself believe them. The more you see these things marked with fluoro price-tags, the more you begin to see the façade as it is and look past the lies. Because these depictions are lies, naïve to the truth of nature’s decline, they are souvenirs that serve only to promote and sell our environment to travellers with change.
Living in Far North Queensland I am often exposed to such gaudy knick-knacks that attempt to sell the unique environment at an affordable price to the constant stream of tourists to the region. Like most locals, I ignore these souvenirs. However, when the term ‘art’ is adopted to sell these products, I worry that the general understanding of the word has been forgotten. While many agree that the definition of art is open to interpretation, few would be likely to consider that the many kinds of souvenirs would fall under this umbrella. Obviously someone had to design and create the curios, but they usually lack the emotion, meaning or... The rest of this article is available to subscribers of Eyeline