Mosquitoes and humans gather around a central sugar-plantation field. On the left mosquitoes swarm, in the centre is the plantation, and on the right side humans. The mosquitoes are almost the same size as the humans, and some of the humans’ bodies are elongated, echoing the mosquito forms. The net is lit so that the embroidered figures cast shadows onto the wall behind, creating a ghostly imprint.
The artist Vivian Caccuri lives in Brazil, in Rio de Janeiro, where mosquitoes are a constant presence. In the 16th century, Europeans colonised Brazil. Enslaved people were sent on ships from Africa to Brazil to work on the sugar plantations. The slave ships carried mosquitoes and spread yellow fever, malaria, dengue, and other diseases. Epidemics of mosquito-borne diseases were a product of colonialism, but also a major obstacle to it. Efforts to control these diseases led to the beginnings of tropical medicine.
Today, mosquitoes continue to flourish as the world’s biodiversity declines. The artist’s fascination with mosquitoes began with their sound. Why does the mosquito’s whine – made by the rapid flapping of their wings – trigger such feelings of irritation and repulsion? Does this fear have a colonial origin? At the top left of the textile, the sky is a-buzz with scrawny soundwaves: we can imagine the high-pitched hum of these quivering lines. They are crossed by a swarm of spiralling mosquito eggs that winds its way from top to bottom, threading through the humans like the trail of a mosquito on the hunt.
On the top right, the eggs become larvae, a gathering storm cloud threatening to rain down upon the humans. Hanging along the net’s hem are over 100 angular fragments of slate and aluminium slender tubes, hovering like wind chimes just above the floor. The artist walked the city streets and collected these cast-off materials. Aluminium chimes are used in samba, an Afro-Brazilian music style that expresses both resistance and joy.
We are frustrated with mosquitoes, but the artist invites us to imagine a different relationship with mosquitoes, in which we share an environment as equals. To learn to respect the power these tiny creatures have to shape our world, from the design of our cities to our genetic code. To acknowledge the powerful influence of mosquitoes. On the left side of the textile, mosquitoes tangle in pairs, their thick black bodies and spindly legs entwined. They look like they are dancing or fighting, but are actually mating.
The art is monochrome, but you can see a spot of red, a mosquito’s stomach swollen with bright red blood. In the centre, a plantation landscape spans the space like an empty battlefield. A lone male mosquito travels across this zone, surrounded by a faint green line. Male mosquitoes need sugar to survive and reproduce, and sugarcane plantations offer a plentiful supply. On the right side of the textile, the humans gather in clusters. Together they represent stereotyped Brazilian people inspired by colonial representations with Indigenous, African and European descent.
Have a look and find different bodies: some are naked with big round bottoms, full thighs and dangling breasts, or flapping penises. Others wear plumed headdresses and cloths around their waists. More dynamic pairs dance, accompanied by different music. Have a look!