“Americans just want Venezuelan oil” …who doesn’t?
Venezuela, a country flattened into resource, measured only by what can be taken.
You can’t grieve something that was never yours. The coast remembers what headlines will never understand. The sea gathers fragments thrown into the waves, songs of desire for better days and the dreams of the lives left behind.

Under crisis, no narrative is seamless.

​

Set in the waters off the coast of Venezuela, this piece utilises a petrol-laden seashell as an archival basin. The vessel collects the stories of people who have had to leave over the past 27 years, representing anthropological sediment that has sunk to the bottom of the sea. Whilst chaos reigns above, the sea maintains a quiet calm, a witness to the turmoil above.

 

The piece’s exterior represents the extraction narratives we see play out time and time again when Venezuela is discussed in the media. A broken country, fighting itself, and only deemed important when resources are involved. All this weight, hanging by an impossible thread as people continue to live and survive despite endless adversities.

 

Yet all the shiny petrol, gold, and lithium do not matter to Venezuelans; what matters is the heart of the people and the connections that have been severed due to crisis and corruption. The love felt at a distance is more valuable than any material resource could ever be.