Told Ya So: The prescient posters of the environmental movement

Last year was the warmest in written history. The graphic artists of the environmental movement tried to warn us. Their posters were intended to scare people with images of ecological ruins, or glorified nature, clean air and water, sunshine and greenery. Some offered earworm-like slogans and terrifying images. Whatever their approach – smart, witty, somber, blunt, even sexy – they looked for an image, a phrase, that could change enough minds to literally save the world.

Through February 25, an exhibition at Poster House in Manhattan demonstrates these visual and rhetorical styles and how they reflect the evolving strategies of the evolving movement. There are 33 posters on display, along with dozens of stamps and a pair of Vivienne Westwood socks.

Environmentalism began to sharpen its voice in the 1970s, with roots in the counterculture and protests against the Vietnam War. Robert Rauschenberg designed the official poster for the first Earth Day, in 1970. In a deadpan appeal to patriotism, stark scenes of spoiled ecologies frame a bald eagle. The earliest work in the exhibition, a call for clean water from 1961 by Hans Erni, shows a hideous skull in a drinking glass. The choice, the artists argued, was between peace and poison.

This is environmentalism as a marketing problem. First, people need to know about your product; then you have to convince them that they need it. Perhaps a healthy planet seems like a self-evident good. “Give Earth a Chance,” reads a 1970 poster by Milton Glaser; the large blue marble that we all live in is drawn floating in a living room. As Earth Days and global conclaves tick by on the posters, it starts to feel like awareness isn’t enough. The tones of the posters are souring. A sober illustration by Yen-chang Cheng & Hung-yu Chen from 2008 shows a baby polar bear floating on the corpse of its mother.

Flashes of optimism and calls to rally around children and animals characterize several examples from the 1980s, including a pro-boom poster by Eric Carle, known for ‘The Very Hungry Caterpillar’. In Rauschenberg’s 1992 print for the United Nations Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro, a baby takes a nap in a stroller. “I pledge to make the Earth a safe and hospitable home for present and future generations,” it reads.

You also begin to suspect that there are counterforces at work – what Vince Packard, a journalist critical of consumerism, called “hidden persuaders” in his book. Book from 1957 – who could sell an anvil to someone who is drowning?

All material shown stems from sincere beliefs – or does it? On the back wall hangs a poster version of the famous TV spot “Crying Indian,” with a lone tear running down Iron Eyes Cody’s weathered cheek. A wall label tells you something you might know — that this “Native American” is actually an Italian-American actor — and something you might not know: the Keep America Beautiful group behind the ad is a consortium of beverage companies.

This context places the text in a different light. “People start with pollution,” the poster reads. “People can stop it.” The campaign sought to shift responsibility towards litter, and away from brands’ single-use packaging. Likewise, the idea of ​​a ‘carbon footprint’, where individual consumers become the problem rather than the fossil fuels they sell, is the invention of spin doctors (the mega-firm Ogilvy & Mather), hired by BP in 2004.

Gradually, environmentalists wised up. The show includes examples of the so-called culture jamming mode, developed by activists in the 1990s. (Think Adbusters magazine or the Yes Men.)

A perfect parody of a Volkswagen advertisement by British designer Barnbrook is one of several who crept into the bus stops of Paris prior to the COP21 climate conference. There is the usual car and above that the well-known Volkswagen font. But the text reads: “We’re sorry we got caught,” a reference to the automaker’s emissions fraud scandal and a rebuke of his own sans-serif apology posted in newspapers just days earlier. The idea is not so much to attract hearts to green causes, but to protect minds from greenwashing.

But advertising agencies are also creative. The most morally ambiguous poster is a 2017 spread showing a woman in high heels posing with a megaphone on. a luxury speedboat while right behind her a fishing vessel drags in a whale and bloodies the sea. “For people with environmental awareness,” the copy reads. “And $72,000.” A vicious burst of green-washed luxury? No, it’s an ad, created by Ogilvy & Mather, for a hybrid electric Lexus.

Perhaps realizing they can’t outdo corporate PR, some contemporary poster makers are ditching the blue-sky thinking and bitter humor to tout specific policies. Gavin Snider’s 2019 earth-toned design depicts a vibrant scene centered around the giant globe fountain built in Flushing Meadows Corona Park for the 1964 World’s Fair. It simply reads: “The Green New Deal.” In 2023, Jan Martijn Burger’s poster urging fossil fuel divestments adopted the nostalgic style of WPA Printmakers. In the arc that this show traces, the atmosphere of environmentalism gradually fades into joy.

We tried to warn you! Posters about the environmental crisis, 1970-2020 Through February 25 at Poster House, 119 West 23rd Street, Manhattan; 917-722-2439; posterhouse.org.