HOUSTON, Texas (CA NEWS) — The “River on Fire” exhibition brought together a special kind of artist, the kind creating work with deliberation and intention. I’m not talking about the merch-pushing art entrepreneurs; these are dedicated artists who understand the mission to do something more with their talents. They have to. They came to the show with their demonstrable right actions — unselfishly stepping forward to illustrate the ugly truths we all live with.

Fourteen of them, and not all from here. Houston, yes, but also New Orleans, Alberta, New York, Michigan, New Mexico, California and Puerto Rico, all of it landing in one room on Main Street.

DiverseWorks presented the show in the MATCH Gallery as part of the 2024 Texas Biennial, curated by Ashley DeHoyos Sauder. The premise came from the Cuyahoga River in Cleveland, which caught fire more than once in the 20th century. The 1969 fire is the one that stuck — it fed the movement that produced the EPA and, in 1972, the Clean Water Act.

Drawing on that history, “River on Fire” delves deep into pressing ecological issues that affect us all.

Let me say that again. That affects us all. Hello air breathers! Hello water drinkers! I’m talking to you!

The layers of our reality are interconnected, and we operate on many different levels within various platforms. As digital waves continue to wash over the media landscape, these artists presented works for people to engage with in real life, and they all did.

Here is the room, in full: Carolina Aranibar-Fernández (San Francisco), Brandon Ballengée (New Orleans), Alana Bartol (Calgary), Christina Battle (Edmonton), Hannah Chalew (New Orleans), Lili Chin (New York), Willow Naomi Curry (Houston), Heather L. Johnson (Houston), Ayanna Jolivet McCloud (Houston), Laura Napier (Ann Arbor), Kristi Rangel (Houston), Joe Robles IV (Pasadena), Manuel Alejandro Rodríguez-Delgado (Roswell/Puerto Rico) and Zuyva Sevilla (Albuquerque).

Willow Naomi Curry and Joe Robles IV work the ground closest to home. Robles hangs his family photographs against industrial imagery from Pasadena, which is where the refineries are, and where he is from. That is not a metaphor he had to reach for.

The beauty of the art show unfolded in front of me in ways you can’t appreciate here reading my words back to you. There were these jars arranged just so. Since the gallery is beautiful, it looked nice, but it reminded me of that classic horror scene when you get to the butchering shed to find pickled body parts in mason jars.

What’s in the jars?

Gulf of Mexico. That is Brandon Ballengée’s Abyss, and Ballengée is an artist and a marine biologist both. Since the Deepwater Horizon spill in 2010 his work has followed what happened to the fishes of the Gulf — a question that still does not have a complete answer. The jars hold preserved specimens, looking back at you.

And some of the jars are empty. On purpose. They stand for the species nobody has been able to count, the part of the Gulf that has never been measured. The empty jar is the honest part of the exhibit: this much we could collect, and this much is simply gone from what we know.

So it isn’t a horror show. It’s an accounting. And then you understand that the accounting is of us, here in Houston, and how it’s been happening. You couldn’t experience that on a handheld device, like you might be reading this. Art is community. Art is the person in front of you telling you why they did what they did. For hope. For the chance it might awaken the spirit of change in someone to do better.

The rest of what was on the walls. Lili Chin’s Cetacean Blue, a repurposed sail used as a screen for whale and dolphin footage. Zuyva Sevilla’s Sink 19, thermal-reactive wall panels run with heaters and fans — that’s the interactive installation I caused a whole scene playing with, though I think that was the point after all. Manuel Alejandro Rodríguez-Delgado’s Jíbaro, a mounted respirator with sound. Laura Napier’s Watersheds, a film that goes looking for the visual markers of pollution. Carolina Aranibar-Fernández’s Sembrando. Christina Battle’s the air we breathe. Hannah Chalew’s Feedback LOOP.

It was a pleasant evening at the MATCH Gallery — parking was easy for $20. I wish there was a spot reserved for the person operating the freelance photojournalist machine. I was warmly greeted by the DiverseWorks curator and team. The atmosphere was fun and engaging.

The conversation did not stop when the reception did. From November 8 to 10, 2024, DiverseWorks ran the River on Fire: Art + Climate Justice Symposium in that same gallery. Three days, free to walk into — workshops, panels, a keynote and a reception, on the legacy of oil and gas, the Gulf Coast as a precarious place to live, and what sustainable practice looks like for artists and curators.

Joe Robles IV spoke. So did Laura Napier, Ayanna Jolivet McCloud, Brandon Ballengée, Willow Naomi Curry, Hannah Chalew and Carolina Aranibar-Fernández. Dr. Kirsty Robertson gave the keynote. Aris Kian, Houston’s Poet Laureate, was on the programme. The show itself closed on November 16.

That is what these artists do with the conversation once they have started it. They keep having it, in the same room, for three more days, with the door open.

The empty jars are still empty.