Bloom Doom Gloom — Boom!

holding hope in our hands


Melinda Rackham Nov 01, 2025 Lantern making workshops facilitated by Mark Timberlake with Community Contemporary Inc and various community artists, creative produced by Zoe Brooks and Heidi Karo. Photo: Luke Greaves. the main event Ethereal pink, orange, blue, yellow, red and sparkly illuminated lanterns of rays, sharks, stripey leafy sea dragons and puffer fish constructed with bamboo and rice paper, glide above the waves of roving crowds at Toxic Surf’s opening event during the Nature Festival in McLaren Vale. Diverse and inter-generational, those assembled are drawn together through bearing daily witness to the devastation across 1,500kms of South Australian coastal and marine environments by a harmful algal bloom (HAB). This 8 month-long ecocide — downplayed by Government as a natural event — has no instant solution, nor an end in sight. After we are generously nourished by a vegan meal for many hundreds, scientists offer facts and glimpses of hope. Poets affect emotions, haunting laments ring out and First Nations Elders relay tales of respect, country and connection. Marine artist and activist videos screen on a white brick wall, small mobs of children roam joyously squawking like seagulls, dogs and humans make new friends. Amazingly a lone kangaroo heads up the lantern procession down the main street. Part festival and part wake, this is what community care, shared grief, and a love for sea country looks like. Inside Good Bank Gallery, the responses to atrocity, from both artists at all career stages and non-artist community members, are inspiring and powerful. Some celebrate the majesty of marine creatures; other construct abstract or narrative works; and some take philosophical and political perspectives. Dominating the front gallery, phospherent green vibrates from featured artist Christian Lock’s resin on fibreglass cloth work, aptly titled Undertaker. Way larger than human scale, this multi-layered portal into another dimension, resonates as an expansive oil slick, simultaneously reflecting our own image while drawing us into a malignant abyss. Christian Lock, Undertaker, polyester resin on fibreglass cloth, 186x 210 cm 2025, A surfer working with paints and materials from the surfing and car detailing industries — long concerned with transcendent processes — Lock’s full-frontal sensory assault of abstract rancid algae floating in murky depths, is countered by an even larger gestural grey scale synthetic polymer canvas Solaris, from his Oceanic series (2014-onwards). In this context, I can’t help but also read the shifting folds and morphs of ocean flows as oyster shells, creating hope that restoration of the original oyster reefs dredged from these waters a century ago, will temper the otherwise dire fate of a destroyed ecosystem. Christian Lock, Solaris, synthetic polymer on canvas, Detail, 300 x 300cm 2025 out of sight — out of mind Ocean health is often neglected in environmental discussions. We think tropical rain forests produce all the oxygen we breathe, but really more than half comes from microscopic marine algae. Plant as many trees as you like to offset carbon, but when rapidly warming oceans mix with excess nutrients and algae grows out of control into a harmful bloom, a balanced ecosystem tips. Water de-oxygenates creating dead zones — what gave life takes it away — as the bloom produces toxins which kill fish, shellfish, marine mammals and birds; and harms humans and other land mammals. Sea lovers like Lock, the Toxic Surf collective were some of the first to notice the foam, marine fish and mammals slain by this apocalyptic bloom on remote beaches. Along with citizen scientists and first nations stewards they drew attention to this marine disaster, which is the most destructive bloom experienced in Australian waters, and in the 10 worst recorded globally. By coming together with school kids, scientists, writers, conservationists, fisheries, seaside businesses and coastal residents, the individual distress of unprecedented destruction, is eased by both shared grief and shared action to protect and remediate sea country. Chloe Williams, Eco-systemic sabotage, with algae sequins. Karen the karenia mikimotoi -kills the fish, starves the mammals, and leaves the seabirds circling in hunger. She’s a biological blackout in a ballgown—the ocean’s worst party guest. She destroys fragile ecosystems and leaves her glitter in every gill, 2025, digital print R: Viewers enjoying the works in the gallery When the culprit — dinoflagellate Karenia Mikimotoi — is microscopic, conspiracy theories can proliferate. Using humour to break through unfathomable and unspeakable gloom, dedicated diver and artist Chloe William’s digital freehand drawings anthropomorphise the nasty dark green Killer Karen microalges. The empathic colourful characters in her series of graphic works, some with very descriptive titles, have played a vital role in ecologist Faith Coleman’s presentations to Public Forums, Podcasts and a Citizens‘ Inquiry to bring understating of the scientific facts underpinning the disaster. a quiet massacre Some artworks such as Sally Amazon’s assemblage of dyed paper hand-made from pulped Murdoch owned NewsCorp articles on climate change denial ”minus the BS”, shells, textiles, and driftwood speaks of the burden — the weight of witnessing painful mass marine deaths of over 600 species — flesh and organs pink-red from internal hemorrhage. In Vanishing like a Cyan Sunday, Jade Harland lovingly paints the small dead Blue Weed Whiting which brilliantly flickered amongst the iconic Marino rocks before the bloom, saying: “At first the colours of the rocks appear calm and beautiful, but on closer look they reveal a quiet massacre.” L: Sally Amazon, What the Bloom took, detail, 2005 + R: Jade Harland, Vanishing like a Cyan Sunday, 11x14 in, 2025 Strangely, as Harland observes, a slay of perhaps 1 or 2 specific species will be vomited up daily; washed away at high tide; then replaced in the next few days by different species. The smaller fish with less gill capacity are the worst affected. But this is the tip of the bloomberg, as dive footage shows the bodies on the beach are a tiny fraction of what lies rotting on the sea floor. While local Councils whitewash the shoreline by removing tons of dead fish, the real work relies on under-resourced scientists and the massive efforts of citizen scientists documenting and reporting species deaths to iNaturalist and mounting vigils and campaigns. Everything helps - recreational fisher and mechanic Phil Bamford at Sultana Point has been saving lives by collecting last gasping fish to nurse and name in home tanks - demonstrating if water quality improves survival is possible. Scott Hedges, The Anthropocene 001, Digital Photographic Series, dimensions variable, 2025. Even a lucky sea turtle has been rehabilitated to the Adelaide zoo.- found by dedicated citizen scientist Scott Hedges and his family, who have spent countless hours this year walking along the Fleurieu Peninsula beaches. Scott struggled with a “feeling of helplessness when all you want to do is help“, taking action by “capturing images of the incredible marine life that called our coast home.” Scott is freely sharing his poignant fine-grained photographs — nature morte tableaus, rows of Sea Stars, circles of Weedy Sea Dragons — to spread awareness of the bloom’s devastation. DM him on Instagram to purchase any of these gorgeous still lives, with all funds raised going to marine conservation groups. Another turtle, Myrtle was constructed from plastic waste collected by Debbie Saegenschitter on Christies Beach over a period of 12 months. The increasing garbage circulating in our oceans, congeals into vortexes with permanent islands of chunky plastic waste and marine debris disintegrating into microplastics, threatening marine food webs. As many manga tales attest, when we dump waste in pristine waters, whatever disappears will inevitably resurface as something monstrous, wrecking havoc. Political leaders, such as Lilly Aisling’s finger painting of South Australia’s Premier, attempt to normalise our marine atrocity, while hundreds of unnatural disastrous bloom events are occurring across the planet. Mishaya Miles reminds us that we all stand in, and share that same beautiful global ocean. R: Lily Aisling Gregg, Piss Pete, oil on canvas 2025 + M: Debbie Saegenschitter, Myrtle the Turtle, 2025 + R: Mishaya Miles, An ode to the reef sharks, 2025. ship of fools Part maritime relic, part wreath, part revenge of the sea creatures as sharks jump from the finery — Susan Charlton’s exquisite assemblage Ship of Fools — alludes to arrogant western classifications of humans as better than and separate from. When dysfunctional thinking reigns, the ship is steered onto jagged rocks. An expression of horror, mourning and solidarity, this trophy made exclusively with found and gifted materials, reminds us planetary resources are finite, and demands they be respected. L: Westley Tully, The Last Supper, patinated cast bronze, classic frame, 63 x 78 x 4cm, detail, 2007, + R: Susan Charlton, Ship of Fools(karenai mikimotoi), found/gifted shield & jewellery, lettering by Cynthia Schwertsik, 32 x 22 x 4cm, 2025 While its indisputable now that human-caused climate-change has killed the fruits de mer, many, such as sculptor Westley Tully, have been portraying portents of ecological despair for a long time. His skeletal bronze fish in The Last Supper (2007), which are loosely reminiscent of a scripture scroll, lament how much of humanities stewardship of planetary resources have led to a famine of the soul. DJ and documentary film maker Dan Monceaux’s Toxic Relationship has prompted even non-drinking gallery visitors to chant spontaneously as they stand fixated on the flashing red, orange, yellow and white matrix of a LED backpack hung from the gallery wall. —TAKE—DUMP—BURN—BLOOM—TAKE—DUMP—BURN—BLOOM —warns that our relationship with the sea must evolve if we expect it to continue to provide for us. Dan declares “Change isn’t coming. It’s here” Sharing the same sensibilities in perhaps a more genteel way are Rebecca McEwan’s cheekily titled series (sh)ucked - tiny tales told in black and white encaustic wax and pencil — refined seascapes delicately nestled inside pastel lipped oyster shells. At once precarious and perfect, they are timely reminders that hope really is held in our hands. L: Dan Monceaux, Toxic Relationship, programemd LED, 2025 + R: Rebecca McEwan, (sh)ucked, oyster shells encaustic wax, pencil, paint, dimensions variable, 2025. future proof A staple of Australian life, the beach represents childhood fun and adventure, and adult relaxation, romance and reflection. Now with the toxic bloom embedded into the coming summer, that’s changed for everyone. After some school students spoke about their concerns at the City of Onkaparinga’s August Council Meeting, Deputy Mayor Lauren Jew took a collection of 200 young peoples artworks to the Prime Minister and other MPs in Canberra. These small, heartfelt and formidable drawings are a testament to a new generation’s awareness of the challenges sea country faces into the future. Artist Sair Bean facilitated transforming creatures from their wall of artworks inside the gallery into the Good Bank community mural. Elements from children's artwork became a mural by Sair Bean at Goodbank Gallery Parent, environmental activist, artist and surfer Zoe Brooks sends a simple powerful message to “Plant Sea Grass” in white on oyster shell grey canvass in a bespoke Double Diamond yellow powder coated aluminium tray frame. Seagrasses are terrestrial flowering plants that decided to go back underwater 70 to 100 million years ago. Spreading in meadows, they are carbon sink superheros 35 times more efficient than tropical rainforests; provide a nursery for marine life; and reduce human negligence by soaking up polluting nutrients. While oyster bed restoration and sea grass planting are vital, they are not an instant fix. Sea temperatures from uncurtailed carbon emissions are still rising. However change starts with awareness; grief and anxiety are lessened with community; care begins with connection. The doom and gloom of the bloom have energized a boom of sea country supporters, people of all ages and beliefs who may nothing else in common, to act, to act now and keep acting to reduce carbon, contain pollution and remediate where we can. L: Zoe Brooks, Plant Seagrass, acrylic on canvas, 2025 + R: Zoe Brooks, Heidi Karo, Freya Davies-Ardill, Sophie Hyatt, The Stories and Science behind the Algal Bloom, QR Walls, details2025 The last words come from the driving forces behind the Toxic Surf movement - Zoe Brooks, artist and educator Heidi Karo, linguist and musician Freya Davies-Ardill, eco-resilience facilitator Sophie Hayat, and Annabelle Tukta. Having been supported by a plethora of good will, expertise, time, resources and media coverage from individuals and organizations locally, across the peninsulars, the state and nation in addressing environmental disaster, they created fish shaped QR honour wall. Lie on the recycled neoprene sofa below, and scan for scientific articles, videos and news reports and connect to community, environmental and marine organizations. Toxic Surf invite us all to join their community-led movement of ocean lovers. This exhibition has been so popular that its been extended for another month until late November, with another gallery shared lunch for all on 22 November 2025. Let’s let scientific and First Nations knowledge guide us in restoring and protecting the precious places that sustain plants, animals, people and culture - our Sea Country. Melinda Rackham Written on unceded Kaurna Yetra / Adelaide October 2025 Goodbank Gallery and Toxic Surf Linktree Thank you Toxic Surf and all involved for your commitment to our oceans and our planet. Quotes are drawn from artist’s Instagram pages. Subscribe to Melinda Rackham telling tales from adoption + art, nature + network, still + streaming worlds. Type your email... 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