Visiting Jane Willson’s latest exhibition, “Cozy Planet,” at her 355 29th St. studio feels less like stepping into a gallery, and more like exploring the living room of an eccentric Victorian aristocrat.
“It’s all based on the idea of cabinets of curiosity,” said Willson, 72, referring to the Renaissance trend of collecting eclectic objects for display. “They stuffed everything in there. They didn’t always have explanations. It could just be beautiful things.”
The space, where Willson has worked for about 14 years, is bursting with artwork and knick-knacks that, at first glance, seem unconnected to one another. Paintings and sculptures jostle for space on mismatched furniture alongside stuffed toys, newspaper clippings and old postcards. Other artifacts are hidden away in drawers, waiting to be uncovered by only the nosiest of visitors. Some pieces are labeled; most are not.
But the apparent tumult of Willson’s “Cozy Planet” exhibition, which can be visited for free by appointment, is an illusion. Each object has been carefully placed to serve the overarching theme, perhaps most clearly indicated by a sculpture in the middle of the room: a rubber globe boiling in a sea of plastic.
“’Cozy Planet’ is about the historical and also present-day things that the oil industry does to influence us to love oil,” said Willson. The name, she explained, is a kind of dark joke about spin from fossil fuel companies: “The world may be warming up, but that’s okay … it’s cozy!”
Willson, who has worked as an artist for decades, following a career as a writer for tech companies, decided to respond to that rhetoric by making a cozy space of her own: A “pop-up community museum” that chronicles climate misinformation and the damage wrought by Big Oil.
“We need to find some way not to stick our head in the sand and say, ‘It’s too big,’” she said. “It is too big. But we need to deal with it anyway. It’s either that, or our extinction.”
When the exhibition opened in October, Willson met her visitors with sugar cookies (stamped with cartoon oil rigs) and wine in hand. The conversations she had with her guests formed an important part of the art, she said: “The whole idea is to get people to think, to see the stories told by the oil companies, and to share ideas about what we can do.”
Willson’s guided tour of the exhibit helps the significance of each item click into place. The aforementioned stuffed toys are revealed to be from oil giant BP’s “Endangered Wildlife Friends” series. The newspaper clippings detail the aftermath of the 1914 Ludlow Massacre, where a militia killed the families of striking coal miners. The postcards show vistas of oil fields, framed as an aesthetic treat.
Willson — who grew up in Oakland, moved to Oregon, and then returned to the Bay Area in 1987 — has also incorporated pieces from her long artistic career. For example, a stylized lion that was once part of a 2017 exhibit in District Supervisor Hillary Ronen’s office has been recontextualized, and is now a symbol of humanity’s perceived dominance over nature.
“Stories are recycled. Materials are recycled. Themes are recycled,” explained Willson. Ancient mythology is reused and reframed a lot in the collection, hammering home the oil industry’s use of stories to justify its actions. Willson draws attention to the Mobil pegasus logo as an example, tying resource extraction right the way back to the mythical past.
The project was funded in part by the Puffin Foundation, which provides grants to artists around the country. And Willson is keen for the artwork to keep evolving.
“I like the idea of packaging this concept so that it could travel,” said Willson. “There are some basics that could move around quite easily, and then other parts could be added on in the communities it visits. That’s part of the fun!”
Another idea Willson has been throwing around is turning the ideas in her exhibition — mythology, oil giants, and all — into a play. “I’ve never written a play before,” she said, “but if I could work this up, then people could perform this thing as it traveled.”
The project, in its current form, is available to see for free upon request; Sunday afternoons are best. Willson can be reached through her website or email: jane@janewillson.com.
Jane finds beauty and inspiration in every trash bin and philosophy and controversy under every derrick. Her creativity can make my heart and brain bleed.
Excellent journalism! I have seen the exhibit by Jane Willson and strongly advise people to make an appointment to see Jane’s cabinet (‘room’) of curiousities. This is a very well thought out exhibit!