Cosmic Creations

In 1961, the Vostok 1 spaceship circled the Earth at a speed of 27,400 kilometres per hour in a flight that lasted 108 minutes. On board was Soviet pilot and cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin. The journey made him the first human to enter outer space. He is reported to have said: “I see Earth. It is so beautiful.” Eight years later, Neil Armstrong made history as the first person to walk on the moon. The pioneering real-time satellite image of the planet came in 1972, a picture known as the Blue Marble, representing the first-time humanity could witness the scale and spectacle of the globe. Together, these events go some way towards explaining the fascination with the cosmos that gripped so many in the latter half of the 20th century. However, the roots of this connection are found throughout history, with figures like Galileo pioneering the use of the telescope to discover the night sky in the 16th century. Humans have always looked up to the stars and tried to understand what is out there. Now, a new exhibition at Fotografiska Stockholm traces how artists have grappled with the eternal question of where in the vastness of space humanity belongs. The show includes work from 13 photographers, including renowned artists like Mackenzie Calle, Mónice Alcázar-Duarte, Darya Kawa and Mikael Owunna.

Every time we turn on the television, watch a film or pick up a book space is almost always present. Star Wars, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Interstellar, Star Trek are some of the most beloved films are set outside of our world. Classic authors like Frank Herbert, Douglas Adams, Ursula K. Le Guinn and Arthur C. Clarke, have long considered a life on other planets. If we look further than simply popular culture, astronomy dates back as far as 1,000 BCE and there is evidence of interest in the stars in early China, Central America and North Europe. Mikael Owunna (b. 1990) explores this phenomenon in work that delves into the intersection of science, art and traditional African cosmologies. The series Infinite Essence draws on Indigenous knowledge, passed down through generations, capturing their “cosmic grandeur, symbolism and presentations of Blackness as the divine source from which everything emerges.” The figures of people glow like constellations, lit up in patterns and shapes.

Michael Najjar (b. 1966) has spent his entire career dealing with the complex and critical ways in which technological developments are defining and drastically changing the early 21st century. The work visualises the influence of this progress on our future in space, pushing humanity further than it has ever gone before, using a combination of photography and digital simulation. At the same time, it grapples with the planet’s future in an era of climate crisis and geoengineering. He said: “I grew up particularly fascinated by space exploration, inspired by the moon landing, Star Trek, and the Shuttle missions. Today, I work closely with space engineers, scientists, and entrepreneurs to translate their visions of space exploration into artistic expression. As one of Virgin Galactic’s Future Astronauts, I will soon venture into space myself. The physical involvement and hands-on experience are fundamental elements of my artistic process.” The work is a catalogue of modern times, one of immense excitement and possibility as well as uncertainty and existential risk. 

Perhaps the most significant development in 21st century relationships with the universe is the introduction of “space tourism.” The latest fixation of the wealthiest in society is to reach enter orbit in the “billionaire space race.” In 2021, Virgin Galactic took company founder Richard Branson roughly 86km up, whilst Elon Musk created SpaceX, a company that is now considered the leading manufacturer of rocket launching systems. It’s a craze that not only encompasses humanity’s obsession with the cosmos, but also addresses eternal questions of wealth distribution and how we view the elite. The number of people attempting to enter space is constantly increasing and so too is the subsequent debris. There are currently 3,000 dead satellites in orbit, as well as 34,000 pieces of “space junk” larger than 10 centimetres. Even those who will never venture beyond the atmosphere influence space, as satellites are used for TV and phone signals. In 1978, NASA scientist Donald Kessler suggested there will be a point where there is too much rubbish  to safely enter orbit. In an age where more are seeking to do just that, there is every possibility that “space junk” will pose a real issue for astronauts.

The topic is one of the considerations of this exhibition. Photographer Rhiannon Adam (b. 1985) shares how she was chosen among millions of applications and as the only woman to take part in billionaire Yusaku Maezawa’s trip to the moon. She describes how space has long been accessible to the rich and superhuman, while here a group of civilians were for the first time going to travel to the moon and back to observe, create and gain new perspectives. This not only represented a next step in space travel in terms of who could fund and drive these trips, but also for their intentions. It was not designed for scientific research, but for artistic documentation and expression. Yet, the project was unexpectedly cancelled in June 2024, and the participants who had invested several years in preparing themselves were forced to pick up the pieces of their lives that had been on hold.

The universe will continue to dominate collective imagination, as society reaches new heights and grapple with ethical questions of expanding into space. The works included in Space strike a balance between the possibilities of technology and the myriad of potential futures. The show fosters a profound admiration for those who traverse the stars and an understanding of what this means for humanity.


SPACE is at Fotografiska Stockholm until 2 March: stockholm.fotografiska.com

Words: Emma Jacob


Image Credits:

The Gay Space Agency, 2024. © Mackenzie Calle.

The Fall of Ogo. © Mikael Owunna.

Mars on Earth. © Matjaž Tančič.

Mars on Earth. © Matjaž Tančič.

CAS A, Cecilia Ömalm & Göran Östlin.