Eco Activism Exhibition: “No Bats, No Chocolate” at Galerie 56

Galerie 56, New York — On view until 26 August 2024.
It’s not every day an exhibition invites you to kick off your shoes and cuddle a crocodile. But step into “No Bats, No Chocolate” at New York’s galerie 56, and you’re no longer just a viewer — you’re part of the ecosystem. Designed with care and ecological urgency, this surreal, sensory world by Porky Hefer doesn’t preach. It enchants — then confronts. We haven’t seen it in person yet, but if this travelling protest hits London, it’ll have Scarlet Destiny written all over it. It’s eco-activism, yes — but refracted through fantasy, craft, and the kind of tactile wonder that disarms even the most climate-weary soul.

Porky Hefer’s “No Bats, No Chocolate” is a touchable art experience where animal-shaped seats become climate messengers, spotlighting how deeply connected we are to the natural world.

The artist behind it, Porky Hefer, is no stranger to using the whimsical as a tool of provocation. In partnership with Southern Guild, the South African designer presents a cast of characterful creatures – walruses, bushbabies, bats and beavers – all rendered in colossal, handmade seating sculptures that straddle the line between furniture and living organism. These pieces invite play, pause, and conversation. But their soft edges conceal a hard truth: our relationship with the natural world is fractured, and the clock is ticking.

At the heart of Hefer’s exhibition is a deceptively sweet message: no bats, no chocolate. The phrase sounds like a nursery rhyme, but it's a wake-up call. Bats are crucial pollinators of cacao, the very plant that gives us chocolate. Their declining populations are a direct line to our increasingly unstable food systems. It’s a reminder that the smallest lives often underpin the largest pleasures. And it’s this interdependence — messy, beautiful, fragile — that Hefer wants us to feel, not just know.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by SheltonMindel℠ (@sheltonmindel)

Growing up on farms across southern Africa, Hefer was immersed in ecosystems where animals weren’t abstractions but daily cohabitants. His reverence for nature and frustration with humanity’s detachment from it, pulses through every curve of his designs. The creatures he builds aren’t perfect. Their eyes are asymmetrical, their limbs a little lopsided — intentionally so. They’re soulful, tactile, and distinctly individual. They remind us that nature isn’t manufactured. It’s wild, unpredictable, and brimming with personality.

That personality matters. In a time when the climate crisis feels abstract or paralysing, Hefer’s work reintroduces intimacy. You can’t scroll past a zebra you’ve just curled up inside. You can’t ignore a crocodile you’ve just leaned against, tail curling protectively behind your back. This kind of engagement is personal, especially for children, who Hefer sees as crucial to the planet’s future. The exhibition encourages imaginative interaction: a new kind of architecture, one where animals and humans exist not in dominance, but in dialogue.

Importantly, "No Bats, No Chocolate" doesn’t just show a better world, it models one. The pieces are handcrafted using sustainable methods, often in collaboration with South African artisans. In a global economy still obsessed with speed and sameness, Hefer’s approach insists on care, community, and craft. He’s not nostalgic. He’s radical. His work pushes back against sterile digital futures and the aesthetic of eco-activism as doom. Instead, he opts for joy, curiosity, and the belief that imagination is its own form of resistance. There’s a reason art like this matters right now. As ecological anxiety becomes an increasingly common part of daily life, art gives us another way to engage with the crisis, not through fear alone, but through connection, story, and touch. Hefer doesn’t downplay the severity of environmental collapse. But he knows that affection breeds action. If we can fall in love with a bat-shaped seat, maybe we’ll think twice about what it means to let its real-life counterpart vanish.

By the time you leave Galerie 56, your fingers will have brushed beaver fur spun from upcycled fibres. Your feet will have dangled from a wildebeest’s grin. And you’ll have seen — really seen — creatures many people never encounter in real life. And maybe — just maybe — you’ll start questioning the human-centred universe we’ve built. Because no bats means no cacao. No cacao, no cocoa. No cocoa? No chocolate.
This isn’t just an exhibition. It’s a glowing, tactile protest. One that asks, softly but seriously: What kind of world do we want to build? And who do we want to share it with?

Source: designboom.com