THE WINNERS OF #CREATECOP29

What sparked the initial idea for your project? How does it reflect your unique perspective on climate change or sustainability?

In our country, many people are facing water scarcity. So, we need to protect our world from climate change. Nature is the most important thing for all of society. If we disregard and destroy nature, we may face many dangers.

Was there a particular moment or experience that drove you to pursue your subject?

When I was traveling around my country, I saw this drought because our country is [heating up]. This trouble is so bad and it is an infliction in my heart. I got some advice to take on this water scarcity project to show around the world.

What impact do you hope your work will have on the conversation around climate change or environmental action?

I think my project is to make people aware of the destruction of nature in our world. Our earth is ill and the environments are broken.

What sparked the initial idea for your project? How does it reflect your unique perspective on climate change or sustainability?

When I was in Bangkok in 2023, I was struck by the overwhelming amount of single-use plastic being used—plastic bags, straws, packaging, and so much more. It made me wonder, “What happens to all this plastic after it’s used?” Globally, only 9% of plastic waste is recycled successfully, and much of it gets shipped to developing countries, where it’s often burned or dumped. Recycling is something we’re taught to see as a solution in the West, but the reality is far more complicated.

Was there a particular moment or experience that drove you to pursue your subject?

While I try to minimize plastic use in my everyday life, it became clear to me that this is a very privileged perspective. Plastic is very cheap to produce and in a lot of developing countries this means that it simply is the only affordable option for many small businesses. Eric and I wanted to create something out of single-use trash to show that just because something is supposed to be "single-use" doesn’t mean it has to be that way.

Did anything unexpected happen during the creation of your project, whether in terms of the process, your perspective, or the reactions it received?

Something I did think about a lot after our shoot was what happens with all of the trash after our project ends. Luckily, Eric decided to keep some of the beautiful creations, but in the end, we did need to discard some of the pieces we created. They ended up being trash again. The second project I created with Eric this year was about exactly this: creating a shoot with 0% trash. We decided to create outfits made from plants. After the shoot, those leaves were composted and the plants found a new home at a friend’s place. It felt really good to end a project without leaving a trail of trash behind. This is something I still focus on today in every shoot, trying to minimize the waste we create.

What sparked the initial idea for your project? How does it reflect your unique perspective on climate change or sustainability?

The idea for Beings emerged from my desire to challenge anthropocentric worldviews and explore interspecies empathy. By creating a speculative narrative on Wu-Vo, I wanted to emphasise the interconnectedness of all life forms, envisioning a future where sustainability isn't just about preserving the human world, but about honoring the existence and rights of all beings, both human and nonhuman.

Was there a particular moment or experience that drove you to pursue your subject?

When I read an article about marine animals called tunicates, I was deeply struck. He explained that tunicates evolve not from simplicity to complexity, but from complexity to simplicity. This challenged the anthropocentric view that human beings often impose on other species, an inherently limited and arrogant perspective. It made me aware of the narrowness of human perspectives on nonhuman species, and how this mindset influences how we approach global ecological crises. It reinforced the need for new narratives—ones that centers on coexistence and empathy. This became a driving force behind Beings.

Did anything unexpected happen during the creation of your project, whether in terms of the process, your perspective, or the reactions it received?

I was surprised by how children particularly loved it. They spent two to three times more time engaging with the experience than adults did. Because the game uses body-tracking technology, players need a bit of time to figure out how to control it. I noticed that children were far more patient and enthusiastic about learning how to play. It wasn’t something I had anticipated but it became one of the most rewarding aspects of sharing the project.

What impact do you hope your work will have on the conversation around climate change or environmental action?

I aim to open a window for people to see, understand, and become curious about nonhuman creatures. Immersing players in the perspectives of different species encourages a more equal valuation of biodiversity and challenges the hierarchical view that places humans at the center.

Were there any people, movements, or communities that played a significant role in shaping your project or inspiring your work?

One of my essential inspirations for Beings came from the philosopher John Rawls and his thought experiment of the "original position," also known as the "veil of ignorance." Rawls proposed that when designing a just society, one should approach decisions from a position where they do not know their own race, gender, physical abilities, or other personal circumstances. In Beings, I translated this concept into gameplay through a key design choice: players cannot choose which species they become, nor can they predict when transformations will occur. They are placed behind a "veil of ignorance," experiencing the world without knowing what creature they will embody next. This design forces players to adapt to the unique movement styles, sensory perspectives, and survival challenges of each species.

What sparked the initial idea for your project?

The project began with an exploration of historical forestry photographs from the Swedish University of Agricultural Sciences (SLU). The images provided a glimpse into humanity’s evolving relationship with nature and sparked questions about how we record, remember, and transform the landscape. By combining generative AI with the archive, my work reflects on the interplay between technology and nature, challenging the dualism that often separates them and exploring how they fuel each other. Photography often carries an association with “deadness,” serving as a static record of a moment in time. The AI algorithms transformed this static quality, introducing liveliness and unpredictability into the images. It matched the source material’s richness with a method that brought its layers and complexities to life.

Was there a particular moment or experience that drove you to pursue your subject?

I began reflecting on the forest’s deep significance in Nordic culture and mythology—the forest, both as an entity and as a collective living organism. I wanted to find a way to give SLU’s archive a new life, transforming them into something that could resonate in today’s context.

What impact do you hope your work will have on the conversation around climate change or environmental action?

The project challenges the perceived dualism between technology and nature. The project invites viewers to rethink the boundaries between the natural and artificial, highlighting how human and non-human agents might collaborate for a more sustainable future. In doing so, I hope to inspire a more integrated and reflective approach to environmental challenges.

What sparked the initial idea for your project?

The project began with an interest in the socio-economic dynamics, which later revealed the environmental issues and sensitivities. I've always been intrigued by intrinsic and localized farming methods—this project was exactly that. Hyper-sensitive to global temperature changes, I became acutely aware of how fragile this practice was. If these women were to lose this form of income, their lives and the lives of their family members would look drastically different.

Did anything unexpected happen during the creation of your project, whether in terms of the process, your perspective, or the reactions it received?

It perpetually dawned upon me how positively this farming practice affected the entire community. I felt a sense of responsibility and wished to highlight the efforts of these amazing women with a mind to preserve and protect it. How much could climate change affect all manner of small farming-dependent communities? How much pivots on the decisions made by the industrial giants of the world? For these women, the answer is everything.

Were there any people, movements, or communities that played a significant role in shaping your project or inspiring your work?

I consumed a great deal of National Geographic growing up and was inspired by so many of the great journalistic photographers in those pages. In addition, I have spent my spare time studying plant biology and systematics, and have developed a deep respect and understanding for the natural world and its processes. The project itself was inspirational in that it revealed how these farmers, who have very little environmental impact and do wonders for their local community often go unnoticed, yet they are most at risk. I think to put the spotlight on these more humble stories is a way to humanize and raise awareness.

What sparked the initial idea for your project? How does it reflect your unique perspective on climate change or sustainability?

I contacted a friend who was conducting a thesis investigation about the trout of this lake in Bolivia. My initial plan was to stay two days, but I ended up staying over ten days. This story is an example of how some of the world’s oldest communities are affected by climate change and industrial pollution. These communities have lived for centuries with a strong connection to the lake, but no longer have that connection now. However, they still call themselves “people of the lake,” which I find incredibly powerful.

Was there a particular moment or experience that drove you to pursue your subject?

Once I heard about this story from Michael Palama, my collaborator and co-director of the short film, I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked by the lack of information available about it. There had been some work with the community, but there wasn’t much coverage in mainstream media or with the depth that this topic deserves.

Did anything unexpected happen during the creation of your project, whether in terms of the process, your perspective, or the reactions it received?

We never expected that the project would be selected for the Sony World Photography Awards with a photographic series. Even less did we expect what happened with the short film—it’s now being distributed internationally, and we won first prize at the Vision Film Festival in Germany and the Grand Jury Prize for Best Short Film at DOC NYC, making us eligible for the Oscars. We have since started setting new goals, but we never anticipated the level of engagement the project would receive from international media and exhibitions. We’ve also been selected for the Photo Vogue Latin American Panorama exhibition next year. All of these achievements support our primary objective which is to let the world know what is happening at Lake Poopó. This lake isn’t just dry for the Urus—it’s a loss for everyone.

What impact do you hope your work will have on the conversation around climate change or environmental action?

These stories help people realize the urgency of addressing the climate crisis by putting its consequences into perspective. It’s not normal for a lake of this size to disappear suddenly. I hope this project makes people reflect on what’s happening because, as humans, we often don’t believe something unless we see it. My goal is to contribute to the mission of producing evidence of what’s happening as a cultural action. It’s also very important to me to highlight the impact this project has had on the community. With the prizes we’ve won for the short film and the photographic series, we are now developing a sustainable garden for the community to help improve their everyday lives. We hope to continue supporting them over time by finding more ways to assist.

What sparked the initial idea for your project? How does it reflect your unique perspective on climate change or sustainability?

Hungary isn’t among the countries most at risk from climate change, yet it’s experiencing increasingly hotter and drier summers. When you notice the intensifying effects, like wildfires or floods in neighboring countries, it starts to feel much closer to home.

Was there a particular moment or experience that drove you to pursue your subject?

On a global scale, I see widespread indifference toward climate change. There’s this it’ll somehow work out mentality—people don’t invest enough effort in prevention or solutions. Politicians play a huge role in this, often breaking promises or failing to take meaningful action. This atmosphere of inaction inspired the cynical slogan "Everything is Fine". Using the style of propaganda posters, I created graphics to reflect this irony.

What impact do you hope your work will have on the conversation around climate change or environmental action?

I designed the images to be thought-provoking and attention-grabbing. If they manage to make even a few people reflect on the issue, I’d consider it a success. However, I’d be especially pleased if they reach people in leadership positions, those with the power to influence our future, because I firmly believe the responsibility doesn’t lie solely with ordinary people.