In Tine Poppe’s Gilded Lilies, the age-old artistic tradition of the nature morte—or ‘still life’—gets a sobering update. Juxtaposing cut flowers bought from the local florist in the photographer’s home turf of Oslo with printed-backdrops of her images taken in landscapes that have been affected by the climate crisis, her flower portraits are both beautiful and devastating.
Photographed in the process of wilting in foreign landscapes they do not belong to, Poppe draws attention to the industrial roots of most flowers grown today and the artificial processes they are subjected to in the pursuit of perfection. Unlike the still lifes of the past, the mortality these call us to reflect upon is not our own, but rather that of the plants and landscapes we live amongst—and the role we play in their destruction.
In this interview for LensCulture, Poppe speaks to Sophie Wright about the seed of the project, the artistic and historical references that inspire her and the process of trying to find a language to speak about the environment.
Sophie Wright: How did you get into photography? Did your background shape your practice in any way?
Tine Poppe: I got into photography while working as a graphic designer in a publishing company many years ago. At the time, my brother was a documentary photographer (he is now a filmmaker) and he kindly lent me one of his cameras to play with. I joined a course in photography and quickly got obsessed.
My employer at the time pushed me into deep water by sending me on photography assignments that I was not at all qualified to do! But there’s no better way of learning than making tons of mistakes. In my work as a designer for all those years, I spent a lot of time designing the covers of novels. I think this practice of minimizing the content of a novel into one frame has been very useful for me as a photographer.
SW: Your project Gilded Lilies has a botanical slant, but across your career the subjects you have occupied yourself have been broad. How would you describe the main interests that drive your practice? And why is photography your chosen way of exploring them?
TP: What drives my practice has been changing over the years. After a few years of working in the field of commercial photography, I felt the urge to make images that were more meaningful than advertising. This first led me to documenting drug addicts. As time went on, I became engaged in the lives of asylum seekers and refugees. These are heavy topics that led to the realization of many sad truths about unjust politics and racism.
To add some lightness to my practice, I started experimenting with shooting wild flowers and the amazing micro universes one can discover from the ground and upwards—like seeing the world from an insect’s perspective. Since then I have had a great love for photographing flowers; in their fragility they have the ability to express all kinds of emotions, from deep love and passion to violence and assault. Photography has become my language and I enjoy exploring and playing with the medium.
SW: What was the seed for Gilded Lilies?
TP: It was a TED Talk called Not so Rosy about the environmental impact of cut flowers, that deals with how the industry has changed from growing flowers in local nurseries to digitally-run, industrial-scale greenhouses in Africa and South America—in countries where water supplies are getting scarcer and cultivating flowers requires large amounts of water. The flowers we buy to decorate our homes have usually travelled thousands of miles in refrigerated holds in airplanes or lorries at great environmental cost, just to cheer up our living rooms for a few days before they are thrown into the bin.
SW: In different ways, a lot of your work explores the problematic relationship we have to the ecological crisis we are living through—an issue that it still feels difficult to visualize in all its magnitude and complexity. What would you say informs and shapes your visual approach?
TP: The climate crisis has had me really worried for a long time. In my paid work, I have been travelling to countries where climate change has already been transforming the lives of people profoundly for years. I found people there, though less privileged, were far more informed about this issue than most well-educated people I knew from my own country. Recently the effects of higher temperatures have been accelerating and we have no time left to postpone acting on the major changes that will slow down the process. My visual approach is a result of experiments, instinct and waiting. Waiting for the flowers in their decay to express something more interesting than perfection.
SW: The project holds an interest in the symbolism of flowers at its heart. Can you tell me a bit about the historical underpinnings of the work and how you relate it to the environment we are living in today?
TP: Historically flowers were used to deliver messages that couldn’t be said out loud. Each flower had its own meaning, as did the condition of the flowers and how they were delivered. They are still an important part of all major life events and perform a major part in most world religions. Hindus use flowers in their prayers, ceremonies and celebrations. The lotus flower symbolizes the highest spiritual elevation in both Buddhism and Hinduism. Christian brides carry flowers as a symbol of fertility and flowers are used as metaphors of the purity of Mary and the sufferings of Jesus. Flowers feature as metaphors in the holy scriptures of many religions. Gilded Lilies is like these old traditions—silently delivering a message. A message that has been shouted out loud by UN Secretary-General António Guterres and 98% of the scientists in the world. But the leaders of the world seem to have closed their ears and this makes the powerless—like myself—very frightened.
SW: Each image is a composite of two different elements. Can you elaborate on your work process and the concept that informs it?
TP: The cut flowers were portrayed in front of prints of my own images from landscapes that have changed appearance since the images were shot, due to floods, draughts, fires, landslides or earthquakes. This idea draws on a longstanding tradition in photography—shooting portraits in front of painted or drawn landscapes was commonly used in the early days of photography.
SW: What was your criteria for picking the type of flowers you photographed and how did you pair them with the landscapes they sit within?
TP: The flowers were picked randomly according to what my local florist was selling at the time of the shoot. Cut flowers are usually genetically modified and have never had any contact with nature or landscapes. The printed backdrops are only there to remind you that they once belonged to a natural surrounding, so I did not feel obliged to portray the flowers in their original natural habitats.
Some of the landscapes that feature in the backdrops were shot in Nepal a few weeks before a large earthquake. Others were shot in Malawi, a country that has been haunted by climate-related droughts and floods for years and, since January 2023, has experienced a record number of floods. A few of the landscapes were shot in my own country, Norway—one from a beach inside the Arctic Circle and another from one of the many mountain valleys that were hit by landslides and flooding due to extreme weather only a few days ago. Looking at the climate crisis related catastrophes across the world this summer, it seems there are no longer any particularly fragile areas: the entire planet is equally fragile.
SW: Can you tell me about the title: Gilded Lilies?
TP: The title refers to the idiom ‘gilding the lily’ which means to improve or decorate something that is already perfect, therefore spoiling it. Nowadays cut flowers are genetically modified to improve commercial interest for the consumers, improving floral anatomy and morphology, giving the flowers new colors, inducing early flowering, enhancing their fragrance or longevity, stress tolerance and disease resistance.
SW: Are there any influences or references you were looking at whilst making the project? Both photographic and non-photographic.
TP: I choose misty or foggy landscapes as backgrounds to these flower portraits to make them slightly resemble the aerial perspective of renaissance paintings. Renaissance literally means ‘rebirth’ and the era is among others defined by increased interest in nature.
SW: The resulting images are both profoundly beautiful and disturbing. What do you hope the viewer takes away from their encounter with the project?
TP: I hope they see the messages the flowers express and are reminded of the priceless beauty and fragility of our amazing environment that we are on the tipping point of losing.
