Changing Landscapes: Jesus Mari Lazkano’s Art in an Ecological Frame

In 2023, Spanish artist Jesus Mari Lazkano debuted Silent Pathways, an animated film at the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao. The film depicts the transformation of a pristine natural environment into a mechanised industrial landscape. Over eleven minutes, it juxtaposes serene brushstroke landscapes with stark digital overlays, a technique Lazkano calls “layered erosion.” This work draws on decades of his oil paintings, exhibited at institutions like the San Telmo Museoa in San Sebastián.

Lazkano’s environmental focus is longstanding. His 2012 solo exhibition Constructed Landscapes at the Guggenheim Bilbao explored similar themes. His canvases depict sites of transition: glaciers melting into rivers, forests bordered by highways, urban redevelopment reclaiming coastal wetlands. From his studio in Bergara, Gipuzkoa, Lazkano remarked, “I am painting the Anthropocene, where nature and civilisation grind against one another.”

The Anthropocene is a recurring subject in environmental art, but Lazkano avoids didacticism. He does not offer solutions; instead, he implores viewers to linger on the visual dissonance his works evoke. In Silent Pathways, wildflowers dissolve into scaffolding, the transition so gradual it feels inevitable. “What we see as decay might also be growth,” he contends. “That ambiguity interests me.”

Lazkano’s technical precision underscores this ambiguity. His oil paintings, often exceeding 2.5 metres wide, are constructed from observational sketches and archival photographs. For his 2020 canvas Thermal Memory, he recorded field studies near a decommissioned coal plant in Asturias. The painting juxtaposes cooling towers against a backdrop of forest regeneration, mirroring the tension between ruin and renewal found in his animated work.

Animation, new to Lazkano’s practice, has deepened his engagement with time. “Films move; paintings are still. But in both, you can compress decades into a moment,” he observed during the Guggenheim screening. This medium broadens his audience. While his oils are acquired by collectors and museums—recent auction records suggest prices upwards of €100,000 ($106,000)—his films circulate widely on festival circuits and digital platforms.

Critics note the influence of 19th-century Romanticism on Lazkano’s aesthetic, particularly Caspar David Friedrich. However, Lazkano resists being pigeonholed as a revivalist. Art historian María Luisa Martín argued that Lazkano “destabilises Romanticism’s sublimity by injecting it with unease. His clouds do not inspire; they threaten.”

Environmental scholars see Lazkano’s work as a cultural artifact in the climate crisis era. Dr. Ane Aizpuru, a lecturer in Environmental Humanities at the University of the Basque Country, traced parallels between Lazkano’s landscapes and the region’s contested energy projects. She pointed to Silent Pathways as a potent reminder of the Basque region’s industrial history. “Lazkano’s art doesn’t preach, but it reminds us that every transition leaves scars,” she said in an email exchange.

What distinguishes Lazkano’s environmental art is its porousness. His works absorb influences from art history, geology, cartography, and architecture. His interest in architecture is evident; he has collaborated with firms like RCR Arquitectes to explore the confluence of built and natural environments. Lazkano’s 2018 painting series Urban Horizons was partly inspired by site visits with architects redesigning industrial zones along the Nervión River.

Despite his global acclaim, Lazkano remains grounded in his local context. His Bergara studio is minutes from some of the Basque Country’s most contested ecological sites. The area’s patchwork of preserved woodlands and sprawling industrial parks mirrors the tensions in his work. “This is my laboratory,” he says. “I look out my window, and I see everything I need to paint.”

Where does Lazkano’s ecological vision lead? His trajectory suggests continued exploration across mediums. In 2024, his first major North American solo show will be hosted by the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Titled Unsettled Terrain, the exhibition will include both oils and animations, alongside a site-specific installation featuring salvaged materials from local demolition sites.

Yet, Lazkano remains reluctant to align with any particular movement. “I am not an activist,” he insists. “I paint because I don’t have answers, only questions.” This may be his work’s greatest strength: it invites us to consider our roles within a landscape that is shifting, scarred, and alive.