Camilio

Sag mir wo die Insekten sind

Reflections from the Stedelijk Museum and Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam

On 8 June 2025, I took part in the exhibition ‘Sag mir wo die Blumen sind’ by Anselm Kiefer in Amsterdam, a title borrowed from the haunting anti-war song written by Pete Seeger and famously sung by Marlene Dietrich. My performance, quiet and stitched, posed a question of my own:

Sag mir wo die Insekten sind,

Man vergiftet alles, bis zum Tod!

Wann wird man je verstehen?

These three lines, embroidered on the back of my jacket, are a deliberate condensation of a longer "poem" I wrote (changed the lyrics of Peete Seeger his song) in the weeks leading up to the performance:

Sag mir wo die Bienen sind,

Wo sind sie geblieben?

Sag mir wo die Insekten sind,

Was ist geschehen?

Sag mir wo die Bienen sind,

Die Menschheit besprüht alles mit Gift bis zum Tod!

Wann wird man je verstehen,

Wann wird man je verstehen?

The words echo the melancholic structure of Dietrich’s original, but redirect the sorrow towards another, contemporary tragedy, the disappearance of insects, and with it, the loss of life itself.

No insects, no flowers.

No flowers, no food.

No food, no animals and humans.

No Humans, no art.

Within the halls of the Stedelijk and Van Gogh Museums, surrounded by Kiefer’s powerful images of decay and renewal, my embroidered question felt like a soft but urgent intervention. Because while we celebrate beauty, we are also complicit in destroying it. The Dutch intensive agricultural system, lauded for its productivity, is simultaneously a major driver of biodiversity loss. Pesticides, monocultures, genetically modified crops, these have already wiped out 60 to 70 per cent of our insect populations. Which sadly (and alarming) is a sad trend world wide.

Without pollinators, no crops.

Without crops, no food.

Without food, no animals.

Without animals, no humanity.

Without humanity, no art.

From embroidery to conversation:
But the performance was not only in the fabric. It began in the conversations it sparked. I spoke with the embroiderer who carefully transformed the words into thread. A security guard stopped to ask what it meant. Two ticket scanners nodded knowingly as I passed. Five visitors approached me during the exhibition, all opening with the same words: What a beautiful jacket. Foto's where taken en people asked me where they could follow me on the socials.

That was the doorway. From there, conversations unfolded about insects, extinction, agriculture and responsibility. This is what I seek: art that opens dialogue where it might not otherwise occur.

What do we sponsor with our silence?
I was also struck by the tension between message and structure. These museums, vital institutions, still receive funding from companies with questionable environmental records: Rabobank, ABN Amro, Schiphol Group, Audi, Heineken, DHL, Hyundai, Samsung, ASML (amingst others).
Yes, I understand, it’s easier said than done. Criticize these sponsors and the whish to drop them and change them for greener alternatives.
But if cultural institutions want to remain credible voices on sustainability and ethics, their funding must reflect that integrity. We can dream of a greener future, but ultimately, it comes down to whether we dare to act on it.

Hope stitched in silence:
This performance was not loud.
Not grand.
It was small, intentional, slow, a quiet protest.
A whispered accusation in textile form:

Sag mir wo die Insekten sind,

Man vergiftet alles, bis zum Tod!

Wann wird man je verstehen?

Because everything is connected.

War, climate, agriculture, food, art.

Nothing stands alone.

The exhibition asked: Sag mir wo die Blumen sind —

My answer hung in the air, thread by thread:

Where the insects disappear, the flowers follow.

Performance by Camilo
8 June 2025, Amsterdam
In response to: Anselm Kiefer 'Sag mir wo die Blumen sind'
Stedelijk Museum & Van Gogh Museum