Unquestionably, art can be an effective tool when it comes to delivering a message to audiences. Alongside the various contemporary art installations and galleries that make up an arts festival, there are invariably many different viewpoints concerning a wide array of subjects. Among the almost 200 exhibits at Nuit Blanche, several installations had a simple message to deliver: save our planet.

A performance piece curated by Mark Neremberg of the Faculty of Music dealt with a pressing ecological concern: the health of our forests. Using logs and branches obtained from the City of Toronto—no trees were cut down for this event—the lobby of the Edward Johnson Building was transformed into a living forest. Students from the Faculty of Music delivered an improvised and organic soundtrack using a wide array of instruments, including cellos, violins, flutes, and even branches hit upon a table. Named Awakening the Electronic Forest, the exhibit had poetry and artwork (including a stirring image of a fetus with trees sprouting from its surface) on display. Wandering amongst the artificial forest, members of the audience observed a large group of talented musicians create a hypnotizing and droning sonic atmosphere. The exhibit expressed appreciation for Canada’s forests as well as worry for the state they are in and the wildlife they shelter.

Appropriately, the Bata Shoe Museum showcased an interactive display called Footnotes, designed by Talia Erlich. The exhibit challenged participants to consider the size their ecological footprint by allowing them to trace their feet on biodegradable cellophane or tinfoil and write a positive environmental message in the space. The museum was packed with people, and by midnight many rolls of cellophane with silver outlines of feet were hanging from the central staircase. Many of the messages were positive—“Hopefully my footprint will be as small as this one”—and it was interesting to read what others had written. But, it was difficult to tell how receptive people were to the idea, as messages ranged from bleak—“I hope we still have air to breathe in 100 years”—to sarcastic: “Save tinfoil and plastic.”

Although the environmental message was similar, it came across with varying degrees of strength. Boldly titled WHAT WILL YOU DO?, an exhibit on Queen Street allowed viewers to send text messages that were then displayed on a large screen. Intended for responses to the question “What will you do to stop climate change?”, most people used it as a public joke forum. With humourous messages like “I will call upon Captain Planet,” “I will stop using the moon as a backup plan,” and “I will move in with Al Gore,” the purpose of the exhibit quickly became diluted. Most passers-by found the messages amusing and it seemed as if many saw the display as a hypocritical waste of energy. This notion was confirmed when someone sent in the sarcastic message “I will erect a screen that displays text messages to the public.” Many seemed to enjoy watching the screen for a few minutes and getting a few laughs, but it was unclear if the message that the curators intended to communicate got across.

Environmental accounting is never a simple matter and is further complicated by the difficulty in measuring the impact of any environmental message. Having environmentally- conscious exhibits is clearly positive, but more could be done. Handing out pieces of a chocolate sculpture in plastic cups (although recyclable) is a wasteful counterpoint to green messages. Still, the clear concern and potential solutions for our sickly planet embodied in physical installations and interactive events is a good sign. Especially if half a million viewers take part of that message home with them.