Soil – an exhibition at Somerset House, London – until 13th April 2025
Going to Somerset House in London is always a treat – not least because the building is almost a history lesson in itself.* But this time I was going down in more than one way…
I believe I have a rich history with soil. My mother grew up on a farm in the Fens, and every time we visited we’d see the dark peaty soil of the fens where almost everything would grow. Every so often, if we were lucky, we’d catch the black wood of a tree that had risen from the peat. Bog oaks, we’d shout.
The Soil Exhibition is designed to get us to look again at soil and it works. Or at least it did for me. It’s fabulous – three levels of fabulousness full of more than 50 artists exploring all aspects of soil. And just being in the space was atmospheric.
It’s a museum more than an exhibition – from the proud Iron Age sword from the Fens (my home country) to a psychedelic journey showing fungi roots breaking down matter to enrich the soil. I could have listened to Merlin Sheldrake’s commentary for hours. And then all the reminders everywhere of how alive soil is, even when we don’t see anything moving doesn’t mean there’s nothing there.
Silly really to have favourites, but as a writer (rather than a reporter) I always find it interesting to let my attention drift and see where it ends up. For me, I got obsessed with jackie sumell’s The Solitary Gardens. Over a 12 year correspondence, jackie asked a prisoner in solitary confinement at the Louisiana State Penitentiary, Herman “Chopper” Wallace, to imagine his dream home. Together, and still only by correspondence, the pair designed a space full of soil, plants and freedom. Tragically Herman Wallace had been wrongfully convicted of killing a prison guard. He spent 41 years in solitary confinement, and then in 2013, three days after his conviction was over-turned and he was set free, he succumbed to liver cancer.
In his memory, jackie has developed The Solitary Gardens project, pairing incarcerated people with volunteers to collaborate in making gardens based on the blueprint of a typical solitary cell – a plan designed by Warren ‘Chopper’ Palmer. You can see some of them here.
On the website, there’s an extract of a letter from 2006:
“Jackie, in your letter you asked me: “What sort of house does a man who has lived in a 6’ x 9’ cell for over 30-years dream of?!”— In the front of the house I have 3-squares of gardens. The gardens are the easiest for me to imagine, and I can see they would be certain to be full of gardenias, carnations and tulips. This is of the utmost importance. I would like for guests to be able to smile and walk through flowers all year long.”
On a completely different scale, it made me think of the wonderful Lyveden New Bield, designed by Thomas Tresham when he was imprisoned for his faith in Ely Prison.
Another exhibit that caught my heart was 12 photographs by Ken Griffiths of an elderly couple, The Sweetmans, by the cottage garden outside their house in 1974. The last one stopped my breath a bit because it just showed Mr Sweetman, until I looked closely and saw Mrs Sweetman at the window sheltering from the cold. It was a real example of seasonal cycles, recording not just the plants but the story of those who cultivate them.
When I did a little research, I gave a little gasp when I saw on Ken Griffiths’s website that Mr Sweetman called his wife, ‘Mother’. I’m not sure why but that seemed just perfect.
And then there was Fatima Alaiwat’s Smellscape: Rhythms with Bokashi. The artist used her practice of composting orange peel to concentrate on her sensory awareness and the emotions she went through mixed with the practical act of imrpoving the soil’s quality. She worked with the researcher, Maria Puig de la Bellacasa, who pointed out ‘what soil is thought to be affects the ways in which it is cared for, and vice versa, modes of care have effects in what soils become.” There’s a wonderful essay by Fatima on her process here.
There was so much more, and so much to look up, particularly the work of co-curators, the Land Gardeners. I’ve also been listening to the three-part podcast The Common Ground. I’ll definitely be back, but more immediately, I was inspired to get some seed potatoes to ‘chit’ in my own garden’s soil for this year.
And here’s what I wrote in response:
When your mother grew up on a farm
She’ll cuddle your soft toy while telling you how she used to be able to direct a pitchfork so exactly that it would spear the life out of any mole that ventured near the farm. No blood, she crows, swiping her finger across her own neck. Your uncle will visit with pockets bulging not with sweets but potatoes for you to grow. Those stalks are called eyes, your mother will instruct as you bury them until they’re blind. She’ll get you to stand still for hours to learn how the wind blows and ask boyfriends what the soil’s like where they grew up. She’ll prefer a shoot grown in water over any perfect bouquet just so she can see the roots. She’ll laugh at jokes about missing fingers, tells stories about agricultural workers who carry their own severed arms into A&E, but still lets you manage machinery in the same way as she’ll teach you later to drive a car, always looking as far behind as forward. And later after she’s gone, you’ll go out into the garden to check the wind and find your daughter already there, worried about how cold the ground is. Your roots are still growing strong, Mum. What is the soil like where you are now?
- Somerset House was given to Anne of Denmark in 1603 by her husband, King James I. She commissioned Inigo James to redesign parts of the palace, and she also created a garden with waterworks, a fountain, and a grotto. There’s a portrait of her in the nearby National Portrait Gallery – I’ve sometimes gone to the gallery from Somerset House, just to imagine what it would once have been like. Although I don’t imagine that dress has ever seen much soil!
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