Meanwhile, art installations curated by Kaye reminded us why such measures were being taken. Attendees could place their faces in an Auntie Sallie Aunt Sally Board and pose as Shell Employees posing in front of a burning forest. Large billboards asked the million-dollar question: ‘What if we blew up some oil pipelines, then kissed under some wind turbines?’ The weather forecast for tomorrow was displayed, showing flash floods, and forest fires.

It was a fine display of talking the talk and walking the walk, fitting of a project put together by a band in Massive Attack who have been doing just that for decades. And as Kaye reflected with us on her experience of working with a bucket-list collaborator, and upon a professional life spent in both art and activism, the importance of why those two important practices must remain in sync was repeatedly underlined.

Meanwhile, art installations curated by Kaye seen inside the festival, could also be found around Bristol itself, as the messages remind ticket-holders and passers-by why such measures were being taken and need to be taken more often. Inside the festival grounds, crowd members placed their faces in an Auntie Sallie through holes in a modern take on aunt sally boards and posed as Shell employees in front of a burning forest. Out on the streets, large billboards asked the million-dollar question: ‘What if we blew up some oil pipelines, then kissed under some wind turbines?’ The weather forecast for tomorrow was displayed, showing flash floods, and forest fires.

The wide-reaching collaboration has been a fine display of talking the talk and walking the walk, fitting of a project put together by a band in Massive Attack who have been doing just that for decades. And as Kaye reflected with us on her experience of working with a bucket-list collaborator, and upon a professional life spent in both art and activism, the importance of why those two important practices must remain in sync was repeatedly underlined.

Can you start by introducing yourself in your own words?

I’m Kaye Dunnings, the Creative Director at Shangri-La, Glastonbury. I’ve been doing this for 17 years now, creating spaces that merge art, activism, and sustainability in festival culture. 

A lot of people will have come across Shragri-La over the years in various forms, but for those who haven’t, how would you explain it?

Shangri-La is more than just an area at a festival – it’s a world built on community and creativity. Over 1200 people collaborate to make it happen, from artists to performers to builders. The aim is to represent underrepresented voices and push boundaries, whether it’s through art or activism. We strive to reuse materials and reduce waste, trying to make a meaningful change in an industry that can be very wasteful.

How important is it to you to merge art and activism?

For me, art and activism are inextricably linked. Artists have the power to amplify voices that aren’t always heard and can challenge societal norms. At Shangri-La, I’ve always worked to integrate activism into spaces that wouldn’t traditionally feature it – like raves and parties. Art has the ability to ask questions and make people think without being preachy.

The collaboration with Massive Attack has seen you curate a host of visual art for a music festival. When it comes to climate change, do you think visual art has an especially important role to play?

Visual imagery is crucial. It transcends language barriers and can connect with people on a universal level. Humour and satire, like the work of Darren Cullen or Ella Baron, help make serious issues like climate change more accessible. It’s all about relating big global issues, like what’s happening in the Congo or with the climate, to people’s everyday lives in a way they can connect with.

Could you tell us how the collaboration with Massive Attack for the DMZ project came about? How did the idea for the installations and climate rallying cry evolve?

I got involved in May when they were looking for a creative director to help design and curate the space. Even though I was deep into Glastonbury, which was one of the biggest things I’d ever done in my life, the project was too important to turn down.

Massive Attack have been trying to get this project off the ground since 2016, and it was a massive privilege to be part of something they’re so passionate about. Everything was monitored for carbon footprint, right down to every individual’s travel. The most impressive element was their approach to the power – it was all run on batteries. They didn’t even care if there was a risk of the sound system going off mid show; (It didn’t!) they just wanted to do something that had a minimal impact on the environment.

The project itself was about more than just putting up art; it was a rallying cry. Massive Attack used their hometown as a canvas for something bigger—a citywide event that linked music, art, and activism. The fact that it was centered around Bristol was really special because the city has such a deep history of activism, particularly when it comes to environmental issues. I felt that energy when we were setting everything up. There was this clear sense that we weren’t just doing a gig or an art exhibition—we were contributing to a bigger conversation about climate change.

Working alongside artists like KennardPhillipps and Darren Cullen was incredible. These are people who are already making powerful, politically charged art, so collaborating with them for the project felt like a natural fit.

For Massive Attack, it wasn’t just about performing—it was about showing that a large-scale event like this could be done differently. From the carbon monitoring to the activist-led conversations that happened throughout the festival, it was a blueprint for how things could and should change in the music and art industries. And the public reception to it all was amazing. I think it showed that people are ready for this kind of change—they’re hungry for art and music that mean something, that push for a better future.

Massive Attack has always been known for their activism and political engagement. How did their vision align with yours for this project?

Massive Attack write about these issues in their music, so to see that they’re really living it and committed to making changes, is incredible to see. No virtue signalling in sight.

They’ve always been fiercely committed to using their platform to address global issues, whether it’s war, political corruption, or in this case, the climate crisis. It’s rare to find a band of their stature so consistently involved in activism at such a deep level. What made them perfect for this collaboration is how they’re not just talking about the issues, they’re actively looking for ways to change the way events are run to make them more sustainable.

From day one, they were laser-focused on minimizing the carbon footprint of this project. It wasn’t just about what was happening on the stage, but everything behind the scenes too—how the installations were powered, how we could reuse materials, what the long-term impact of the event would be on the environment. That’s a big part of what I do at Shangri-La as well—rethinking how events, particularly in the arts, can be more environmentally responsible. So when the Massive Attack team approached me – first of all I was in shock because I’ve been a huge fan forever – and also, it felt like a perfect fit as my work and experience is quite unique as both an artist and creative director.

The DMZ project incorporates art from various artists like kennardphillipps, Frank Riot, Darren Cullen, and Ella Baron. How did you go about selecting the artists, and what was the key message you wanted to convey through their works?

I’ve worked with some of these artists before, so I knew they’d be a good fit for a project like this, where the message is just as important as the medium. For example, KennardPhillipps are known for their anti-establishment work that cuts through the noise and gets straight to the heart of big political issues. Darren Cullen’s work, with its biting humor, offers a sharp critique of corporate greed and environmental destruction. Frank Riot and Ella Baron bring their own unique styles and perspectives, but each of them shares a commitment to activism through their art.

When curating the works, I wasn’t just looking for visually striking pieces, but for pieces that would make people stop, think, and reflect on their role in the climate crisis. Each artist has a distinct way of communicating, but they all challenge the status quo, and that’s what we needed for this project. I wanted to push people out of their comfort zones—whether through a satirical take on environmental destruction or through powerful imagery of the people affected by it.

The key message was that climate change is not just a faraway issue; it’s happening right now, and it’s impacting all of us. Art has this incredible ability to make global issues feel personal, to take something as vast and complex as the climate crisis and distill it into something that speaks directly to the individual. That’s what I was aiming for – a series of works that would confront people with the urgency of the situation, but in a way that was accessible and relatable. The art was about connecting the dots between the global and the personal, between politics and everyday life.

From this process, have you got any advice for artists looking to lessen their impact on the environment? What’s something they can do?

A lot of what we do at Shangri-La is centered on finding ways to reuse materials from one year to the next, to create something new from what already exists. Re-painting wood that’s already been painted 10 times, then using it in a different way again – everything to avoid it becoming trash. But more than anything, we work as a community. Climate action is as much about community as much as it is about individual choices, and I think that’s especially true for artists. So, my advice is to find your tribe and work collectively toward solutions. The more we support each other in making these changes, the bigger the difference we can make. collaborate with others who share your values. A lot of the projects I’ve been involved in, whether it’s at Glastonbury or day festivals like the one recently, have come to life because I’ve worked with like-minded people who are also trying to make a difference. You don’t have to do it alone, and often, working together allows you to have a much bigger impact.

How do you hope those who saw and engaged with the installations would have reacted to them?

I really hope it sparked a conversation. You know, art has the ability to provoke people, to challenge their thinking. So, whether people agreed with the message or not, the goal was to get them talking. It’s not about providing all the answers—it’s about asking the right questions. If people walked away thinking about their own impact on the climate or questioning the systems that contribute to the crisis, then we did our job. For me, that’s the power of art in activism: it plants the seed of thought, and from there, discussion can grow. There’s a quote that i come back to constantly by Cesar A. Cruz: “Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” I try to evoke this in every project I do.

How important is it to have these art installations and artworks shared in a physical space, as opposed to just online?

I think there’s something really visceral about engaging with art in a physical space, especially something as impactful as this project and at a festival where it wouldn’t be as expected. We’re so bombarded with content online—our phones are constantly feeding us information, news, opinions—and it can all blur together. But when you’re standing in front of a physical piece, especially something that takes up space and demands your attention, it hits differently. You’re immersed in it. You can feel its weight, see the scale, and that makes it more memorable. With online content, people scroll past so quickly. But when you encounter art in a physical space, you’re forced to stop and reflect. And that pause is really important when it comes to the climate crisis because it’s an issue we can’t afford to scroll past.

What made Bristol an ideal city for this work?

Bristol is a city with a deep-rooted history of activism and protest. It has a rebellious spirit, and its people are known for standing up for what they believe in. That energy made it the perfect setting for this project. Massive Attack are from Bristol, and they have a special connection to the city, so it felt right to bring such an important project home.

There’s also a rich history of street art and street artists – not just one street artist…

What is one thing you love about Bristol?

The community. Bristol has this incredible sense of togetherness. People move here to be a part of it, I think. It feels like a place where people genuinely care about each other. Whether it’s music, art, or activism, people are always coming together to create something bigger than themselves.

In recent years, the Queer scene has really begun to thrive down here as well. That’s something I’m really excited about. And there are great venues, such as Lost Horizon that Shangri-La founded in 2021 and continues to run. There’s great community work and art happening in there all the time – it’s become an important part of the city and brings together many different communities, something that is extremely necessary for everybody.

And finally, can you leave us with one Massive Attack song that summarises the project?

If I had to choose one, it would be “Hymn of the Big Wheel.” It references changes in the climate..and possible an uncertain future.. The lyrics are about how everything turns and comes full circle..