I vividly remember the first time I had to dismantle an exhibition: at an Amsterdam gallery in 2015. To my surprise, it was an emotional experience, somehow akin to the process of mourning. I felt a profound sense of loss – that so many months and years of work were suddenly all coming down at once. The realization that these artworks, that I had carefully researched and brought together, would likely never again share the same space hit me hard. It was then that I truly understood just how attached I was to the idea of preserving things as they are, expecting them to last forever. I had often heard it said that without a catalogue or some other form of documentation, it's as if an exhibition never existed, leaving no trace behind. It was some ten years later that I first began to refer to exhibitions as ephemeral beings, embracing transience as an intrinsic part of their fabric.
In a broader sense, the concept of ephemerality plays many roles in the sphere of contemporary art; in this essay, I explore several art and design practices to scratch at some of those surfaces, leaving many others entirely uncharted. At its core, ephemerality refers to something that lasts or is used for only a short period of time. Synonyms include transitory, fleeting, and transient. Moments in time are often described as ephemeral, highlighting their impermanent nature. In contemporary art and design, we encounter numerous ephemeral movements and forms, from art that is time-based to design made from natural materials that dissolve and disappear over time. Temporary installations also embody ephemerality, intervening in a space before later being taken down, as if they had never intruded upon it at all. Whilst exhibitions are ephemeral in the physical realm, we’re still exploring the boundaries of what that ephemerality could mean in the digital realm: how might these virtual spaces satisfy the human inclination to preserve, despite our own impermanence?
Ephemeral Exhibitions
Exhibitions inherently possess an ephemeral quality. They begin with a vision, often an idea that takes shape through the work of artists, designers, architects – then through planning, curation and execution. This vision is often brought to life in a physical space, where it exists only briefly before being dismantled, leaving behind nothing but memories. After my first experience of bidding farewell to an exhibition, I was struck by the sadness of the empty physical space, once filled with artworks and bespoke scenography, then returned to its original state. However bittersweet, the recognition that all of our efforts would exist only in the memories of those who had experienced our show was also humbling. It felt as if part of me had been left behind in that now vacant space.
Temporary by nature, exhibitions are designed to create an impact on the spectator, to provoke perception, and even to stir up emotions. Once they are gone, they live on in photographs, catalogues, postcards and in the memories of those who attended. Without documentation, an exhibition could easily fade into obscurity, as if it had never happened at all. This ephemerality is both the challenge and the beauty of exhibitions – they are, in some way, like performances, with each installation becoming a singular and unrepeatable event. The transient nature of exhibitions also reflects the impermanence of life itself. Recognising that life, too, is fleeting helps remind us that it is important to appreciate passing moments, and the physicality of what stands before us.
Despite their fleeting existence, exhibitions strive to have a lasting impact: beyond an initial reaction. As John Dewey set out in his book Art as Experience, "The actual work of art is what the product does with and in experience" (Dewey, 1980, p. 206). An exhibition with art, then, is not just about the physical arrangement of objects in a space, but about the experience it creates in the minds and hearts of its viewers. Dewey also reminds us that "we have an experience when the material experienced runs its course to fulfillment" (Dewey, 1980, p. 205). Each exhibition, though temporary, is a complete experience – a whole that carries its own individualizing quality and self-sufficiency. It exists in a specific time and space, influencing and transforming those who engage with it.
If exhibitions are seen as experiences, then exhibitions can change the way people think, influence future artistic works, and contribute to an ongoing dialogue within the art world. The memories and experiences they generate can resonate long after the physical space has been cleared. In this sense, the ephemeral nature of exhibitions does not diminish their significance but more likely underscores the strength of temporary experiences to leave a lasting impression. As a curator, embracing the ephemerality of exhibitions means accepting that the art we present is part of a larger, ongoing conversation through experiences we share. Each exhibition is a momentary expression within that conversation, contributing its voice before fading away to make room for the next. This cycle of creation and dissolution is not only inevitable but also essential, as it reflects the dynamic, ever-changing nature of art and life itself.
Conserving Impermanence
Where curators primarily focus on the (re)presentation and interpretation of art and design, conservators play another important role in the art world, striving to preserve the physical presence of artworks across time. Art historians are tasked with this delicate balancing act: maintaining the appearance and structure of works that, by their very nature, are subject to decay, damage, or obsolescence. Whether working with ancient archaeological finds, Old Master paintings, 19th-century photography or avant-garde sculptures, conservators face the challenge of keeping the impermanent permanent.
Conservation is about a reluctance to let go of the past. It reflects a collective desire to preserve history, memory and cultural identity. As Heidegger observes, there is an inherent human desire to halt time, even as we recognize that "time does not let itself be halted" (Heidegger, Time and Being, 1962, p. 374). This tension is at the heart of conservation efforts: by stabilizing materials that are fragile or transitory, conservators are not just preserving objects but engaging in an act of defiance against the patina of time. Sometimes conservation efforts face the challenge posed by unconventional materials. For instance, contemporary sculptures may incorporate organic or synthetic elements that degrade over time. Photographs, too, are susceptible to fading and discoloration, especially when exposed to light and air. This is similar to many other forms of artistic practice, such as works on paper, textiles and fabrics, and nature-based works and bio art.
In these cases, conservators must use techniques to slow, rather than stop, the inevitable decay. However, the work of conservators is not just about preserving the physical; it’s also about making informed decisions as to how much change is acceptable for a work to retain its identity. In some cases, the act of preservation seems to contradict the ephemeral nature of artworks. For example, some contemporary artists deliberately use materials that are meant to deteriorate over time, creating works that are intended to be temporary. Land artists such as Robert Smithson have themselves embraced decay as they intervene in natural landscapes, where the erosion of nature is a necessary process that must be allowed to unfold, rather than be halted by conservation efforts.
For these artists, impermanence is part of the message. In such instances, the role of the conservator becomes even more complex: should they intervene to preserve a work that was meant to decay? Or should they allow the natural process of deterioration to unfold, honoring the artist’s original intention? Heidegger’s insights into our desire to "preserve time" (Heidegger, Time and Being, 1962, p. 374) becomes especially relevant here, which speak to the deeper philosophical question of whether conservation should seek to arrest the natural lifecycle of an artwork.
This tension between preservation and impermanence is crucial to the philosophy of conservation. Despite the human impulse to protect and maintain the material evidence of our cultures, there is also an acknowledgment that not everything can or should be saved. As the art world continues to evolve, so too must the approaches and ethics of conservation, finding a balance between respecting the transient nature of some works and the desire to preserve them for future generations. At a time when younger generations are striving for minimalism, we still try to preserve time and collect what we can to “learn from the past”. The big question is, for how long are we to continue conserving to preserve time?
Where conservation is about embracing the inevitability of change as much as it is about preserving the art of the past, it also requires a deep understanding of materials, respect for artistic intent, and a nuanced approach to the impermanence that defines all things. As conservators continue their work, they remind us that while artworks may be fleeting, the efforts to preserve them are enduring – but we should also remain conscious of the tricky line between the will and the necessity to preserve.
Time-Based Art, Performance Art, Biodesign
At first glance, it might seem unusual to group time-based art, performance art, and biodesign together. However, their inherent relationship with ephemerality establishes a clear connection. These three artistic and design disciplines confront and collaborate with the concept of impermanence, embracing elements that extend beyond human control and highlight the transient nature of existence.
Time-Based Art
Time-Based Art encompasses works where time, duration or function are essential components. This category includes video, film, audio artworks, installations and any other pieces that exist only for the duration of their display, such as computer-based and mechanical works. Contemporary time-based media art unfolds over time, engaging viewers in a temporal experience that is both immersive and fleeting. These works present significant challenges in terms of collection, preservation and exhibition, as they often require specific technologies or environments to be fully realized. Furthermore, many time-based media artworks are allographic – they don’t exist as a single, unique original but rather come to life only when installed, making each iteration a distinct representation. Artists like Vito Acconci, Tacita Dean, Bruce Nauman, Nam June Paik, Pipilotti Rist and Bill Viola exemplify the delicate balance between time, technology and artistic intent. The Guggenheim Museum in New York is one of many institutions responding to these challenges, developing extensive preservation models for various types of video art to ensure that these time-based works can be experienced as intended, even as technology evolves.
Performance Art
Performance Art, which emerged as a recognized form in the 1970s, has roots tracing back to the futurist productions and Dada cabarets of the 1910s. Throughout the 20th century, performance art was often viewed as a radical departure from traditional art forms. The live, physical and impermanent nature of performance offered artists an alternative to the static permanence of painting and sculpture. In the post-war era, performance art became closely aligned with conceptual art, emphasizing immateriality and the ephemeral nature of the artistic gesture. Today, performance is an established part of the visual art world, not just as a medium but as a conceptual framework – a set of questions and concerns about how art interacts with people and the broader social context.
As theorist Jonah Westerman noted in 2016, “performance is not (and never was) a medium...but rather a set of questions and concerns about how art relates to people and the wider social world.” In my own work as a curator, working with dancers and performance artists has reinforced the idea that performance must be lived in the moment, echoing John Dewey’s philosophy that art is fundamentally experiential. Once a performance is filmed or documented, it becomes something different, a derivative of the original intent. The work of artists like Alexis Blake, whose multidisciplinary practice combines visual art, performance and dance, exemplifies this idea. Blake investigates how the body is represented and treated as an archive, critically examining, disrupting and re-negotiating this concept, reminding us ultimately that the archive itself is ephemeral, bound to the moment of its creation.
Bio Art and Design
Bio art and design represents a contemporary effort to merge natural processes with creative production, which was a cornerstone of some of the earliest human civilizations. However, the urgency of biodesign today has intensified in the face of climate change and the rapid depletion of natural resources. This field explores sustainable futures by integrating biology with design, offering solutions to the long-standing tension between economic growth and environmental protection. By working with living materials that change and evolve, biodesign inherently embraces ephemerality, acknowledging that all design is subject to the forces of time and nature.
In one example, Armenian biodesigner Shushanik Droshakiryan – who works with algae-based textiles – probes at the necessity of using traditional materials to mark significant life events, such as in the clothes associated with weddings and funerals. Often, wedding dresses are stored and forgotten, whilst burial clothes are chosen with little regard for their environmental impact. Droshakiryan’s alternative is clothing made from algae material that can be ritually returned to the earth, emphasizing a cyclical relationship with nature and a conscious embrace of impermanence.
Together, these three disciplines – time-based art, performance art, and biodesign – navigate the delicate dance with ephemerality. They confront the transient nature of existence, creating works that not only acknowledge but also celebrate the impermanence that defines our world. If some works are inherently bound to time, they challenge us to adopt an ephemeral gaze that is, paradoxically, permanent. This gaze requires us to accept that the fleeting and the transient are as integral to the human experience as the lasting and the enduring; that the impermanent is something to be deeply appreciated and embraced in its own right. This perspective thus invites us to reconsider the value we place on permanence in art and design, understanding that some of the most profound artistic experiences are unrepeatable. As our world continues to evolve, so too must our approach to art, embracing the ephemeral not as a loss, but as a vital and essential part of the creative process.
Eternal Digital
A counter-movement in the discussion of ephemerality is the rise of the digital world. More exhibitions are being curated that involve digital art, or that showcase a historical perspective in which specific themes and aesthetics are emphasized. Digital art is increasingly being acquired by museums and private collections. Additionally, digital twins of exhibitions are being created, allowing for the recording and revival of these experiences in the digital realm. According to Annet Dekker in her book Curating Digital Art, the digital represents a significant shift in attitude. She notes: “The introduction of different attitudes needs time, particularly in highly structured and authoritarian organizations. This trend can also be traced in the normalization of digital art within the establishment. If anything, the Web consists of numerous collectives and communities, each with their own activities, aesthetics, in-jokes, and rules.”
One of the most significant ways in which digital technology extends the life of exhibitions is through documentation. High-resolution photography, video recordings and 3D scanning all allow for exhibitions to be captured in exquisite detail. One particularly pertinent example comes from the collective Beyond Matter, which recreated the 2002 Iconoclash exhibition in the digital realm, originally displayed at ZKM Karlsruhe. The group’s digital recreation not only allows visitors to revisit the exhibition, but it also offers interactive layers and a gravity-based reshuffle, adding new dimensions to the original experience.
Virtual exhibitions go beyond mere documentation; they have further blurred the line between the ephemeral and the permanent. Museums and galleries can now create entirely digital exhibitions that exist solely online. These virtual shows can be revisited indefinitely, allowing them to transcend the limitations of time and space. The ability to curate and experience art in a digital environment also means that exhibitions can reach a global audience, far beyond the geographic limitations of a physical space. What was once an experience bound by time and location can now become a lasting part of the digital landscape, accessible to anyone with an internet connection.
However, the digital preservation of exhibitions is not without its critics. Some argue that the very ephemerality of exhibitions is what gives them their unique power and resonance. By extending their life through digital means, might we risk diluting the impact of the original experience, reducing it to just another piece of digital content in a world already saturated with information? Moreover, the digital realm is not immune to its own forms of impermanence: servers crash, files become corrupted, formats become obsolete. In this light, the supposed permanence of digital archives may be more fragile than it appears.
Conclusion
The exploration of ephemerality in contemporary art and design reveals a profound tension between the fleeting nature of physical experiences and the enduring capabilities of digital preservation. On one hand, the transitory nature of exhibitions, time-based art, performance art, and bio art and design embodies the impermanence that is intrinsic to both art and life. These ephemeral experiences remind us of the beauty and significance of the moment, the importance of change, and the inevitability of endings. They encourage us to embrace the transient, to find meaning in the temporary, and to accept the cycle of creation and dissolution that mirrors our own existence.
On the other hand, the digital age challenges this ephemerality by offering new tools to preserve and extend the life of these artistic experiences. Through digital documentation, virtual exhibitions and interactive technologies, what was once considered fleeting can now be revisited, reimagined and shared with a global audience. Digital archives ensure that the knowledge and impact of exhibitions are not lost to time, providing a lasting record that can influence future generations.
Yet, even in the digital realm, the fragility of preservation remains. The permanence offered by digital technology is itself subject to decay and obsolescence, reminding us that no form of preservation is absolute. Thus, the interplay between the ephemeral and the permanent continues to shape our understanding of art, pushing us to consider not just how we preserve experiences, but why we feel compelled to do so.
In the end, both the ephemeral and the permanent have their place in the world of contemporary art and design. They are not opposing forces, but rather complementary aspects of a broader narrative that reflects the complexities of human experience. As curators, artists and viewers, we navigate this duality, finding value in the transient moments of beauty and the enduring records that allow those moments to echo through time. The challenge and opportunity lies in balancing these forces, recognizing that while we may strive to hold onto the past, it is often its impermanence that shapes its power.
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