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How can art answer the call of the climate crisis? An exploration by the Musée d’Orsay in Paris

Art is both a mirror of its time and a force that shapes how we live and think. It influences our perception, our tastes, and engages deeply with urgent social issues—justice, identity, and human rights among them: today, one of the most pressing themes it confronts is climate change. The fact that activists have targeted artworks with symbolic acts—like tossing paint and food onto their protective glass—is powerfully telling: these works of art represent what we collectively cherish, preserve, and deem worth protecting. These highly controversial acts raise profound questions: how can we pass on our cultural heritage in the face of environmental collapse? What moves us more—the devastation of an artwork or of an ecosystem? Where does the boundary lie between natural and cultural heritage? And perhaps most hauntingly: can art survive on a dying planet?

In addition to these symbolic protest actions, contemporary art is, in many cases—although with far less media attention—an active and deliberate force in the movement toward environmental awareness and respect for our planet and its resources. Numerous cultural institutions are implementing tangible strategies aimed at sustainability: eco-designed exhibitions, environmentally responsible transportation of artworks, and reductions in energy and material consumption. Yet, perhaps, even more vital is their role in shaping ideas. In a society often paralyzed by denial or fear —despite the scientific consensus regarding causes and mechanisms of climate change — art may offer something statistics and data cannot: the power to stir our consciences, to mobilize our empathy, and to make visible what otherwise may risk remaining highly abstract. In this sense, a single brushstroke may move us more deeply than any statistic ever could...

Figura 1 Main gallery of the Musée d'Orsay with large interior clock surrounded on the left by Hippolyte Moulin's statue "A Lucky Find at Pompeii", 1863 (bronze cast by Jacquier) and on the right by Alexandre Falguière's statue "Winner of the Cock Fight" (bronze cast by Thiébaut after the plaster executed in Rome in 1862), 1864. © Ibex73 (this file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license)

With this spirit, the Musée d'Orsay in Paris has launched the itinerary 100 œuvres qui racontent le climat, reinterpreting many of its masterpieces through newly conceived panels that reflect a deeper awareness of today’s environmental challenges. If the great painters of the Orsay once celebrated the poetry of a dawning modern age—a modernity whose fragility we now grasp with sharper clarity—perhaps today their works can do more: not only echo the beauty of a modern world, but awaken our consciences to the urgencies of this one, inspiring reflection, responsibility, and a renewed sense of stewardship for the planet we share.

The slab of meat portrayed by Claude Monet in Nature morte : le quartier de viande can in this way allude to the early industrialisation of food production—a process driven by the staggering demographic growth of the past two centuries. Today, over 161 years since Monet painted his canvas, global meat consumption accounts for approximately 14.5% of CO₂ emissions and 32% of methane emissions, underscoring its significant impact on the climate crisis...

Figura 2 Claude Monet, Still Life: Cut of Meat, circa 1864, oil on canvas, H. 24.0 × W. 33.0cm

Once again, Monet, in his iconic paintingThe Poppies, could hardly have foreseen that, a century later, this fragile flower—crucial for attracting beneficial insects and pollinators, thereby supporting biological control and soil health—would become a victim of pesticides. Its reappearance in the fields of France and Japan, after having symbolized a biodiversity made vulnerable by human practices, now stands as a hopeful testament to a renewed commitment to a type of agriculture more respectful of ecosystems.

Figura 3 Claude Monet, The Poppies (Coquelicots), also known as The Promenade, 1873, oil on canvas, H. 50.0 × W. 65.3 cm; with frame H. 99 × W. 84cm

Le Pavé de Chailly testifies to how forest wood—capable of absorbing atmospheric CO2 through photosynthesis and storing it in leaves and roots—was, during the 19th century (the era when Monet painted this work), primarily valued especially as a building material, heating fuel, and industrial raw material. The cutting and burning of these forests released carbon back into the atmosphere as CO2, thereby contributing significantly to the rise of greenhouse gas emissions and to the acceleration of climate change...

Figura 4 Claude Monet, Le Pavé de Chailly, circa 1865, oil on canvas, H. 43 × W. 59cm

André Devambez, in Le seul oiseau qui vole au-dessus des nuages, presents a poetic vision of aviation through the image of a solitary yellow aircraft hovering above a sea of clouds. This romantic portrayal contrasts sharply with our contemporary understanding of aviation’s environmental impact: air transport now accounts for approximately 2.5% of global CO₂ emissions, amounting to roughly 1 billion tons of CO₂, comparable to the emissions of Japan alone...

Figura 5 André Devambez, Le seul oiseau qui vole au-dessus des nuages, 1910, oil on canvas, H. 45.2 × W. 68cm

But what if sustainable practices will not be adopted in such essential areas of our daily lives, such as aviation and food consumption? Jules Laurens’ painting Le Rocher de Vann, which depicts one of the world’s largest alkaline (saltwater) lakes in Turkey’s Van region, offers us an initial reminder, by highlighting how many water bodies today face threats from drying up, pollution, reduced rainfall, and the loss of diverse fish and bird populations...

Figura 6 Jules Laurens, Le Rocher de Vann (Kurdistan), before 1880, oil on canvas, H. 134.0 × W. 88.0cm

Paul Huet, in Le Gouffre, paysage, captures the drama of a terrifying tempest—an extreme weather event that has always occurred but was far less frequent in the 19th century compared to today, when climate change has made such storms more intense and common.

Figura 7 Paul Huet, Le Gouffre, paysage, 1861, oil on canvas, H. 125 × W. 212 cm; with frame H. 118.3 × W. 91.7cm

Besides forests, also oceans play a crucial role in storing pollutants from the atmosphere, absorbing about a quarter of the world’s annual CO₂ emissions. However, the turbulent sea depicted by Corbet in La mer orageuse has grown increasingly acidic over time, which in turn accelerates the rise of atmospheric CO₂ levels and global warming...

Figura 8 Gustave Courbet, La Mer orageuse, 1870, oil on canvas, H. 116.5 × W. 160.0 cm. Purchased at the Salon, 1878. © Grand Palais Rmn (Musée d'Orsay) / Hervé Lewandowski

Such changes would trigger multiple consequences. For instance, snowfall—celebrated by Monet in paintings likeLa Charrette, route sous la neige à Honfleur, where he captures the luminous sparkle of snow crystals—might become an increasingly rare climatic feature in the coming centuries across France, Japan, and beyond.

Figura 9 Claude Monet, La Charrette, route sous la neige à Honfleur, 1865 or circa 1867, oil on canvas, H. 65 × W. 93cm

Indeed, with a global temperature rise of just 1°C, northern cities could perhaps experience vegetation and climates like those currently found further south. Paris or Aomori Prefecture in Japan, for example, might soon resemble the Mediterranean landscape Monet depicted in his painting of Bordighera, in Italy...

Figura 10 Claude Monet, Les Villas à Bordighera, 1884, oil on canvas, H. 116.5 × W. 136.5cm

Yet, few will have the chance to live close to such natural environments: by 2050, an estimated 70% of the planet’s projected 10 billion inhabitants will reside in urban areas. Where will these additional 3 billion new citizens live? Existing construction practices, heavily reliant on reinforced concrete, air conditioning, and high resource consumption, could alone contribute to a further 0.5°C increase in global temperature...

Figura 11 Henri Marcel Magne, L'Architecte, circa 1910, oil on canvas, H. 304.0 × W. 225.0cm

Paris itself has not been immune to this transformation. In 1855, when Victor Navlet painted Vue générale de Paris, prise de l'Observatoire, en ballon, the French capital was still deeply interwoven with the surrounding countryside. But over time, urban expansion, the paving over of natural land, and widespread use of concrete and asphalt led to the mineralisation and artificialisation of the soil. These changes have created urban heat islands—zones where temperatures soar, particularly during the sweltering summer months. Today, cities are responsible for consuming 70% of global energy and emitting a similar share of greenhouse gases...

Figura 12 Victor Navlet, Vue générale de Paris, prise de l'Observatoire, en ballon, 1855, oil on canvas, H. 400 × W. 710cm(unframed).

And yet, a reconnection between nature and culture remains not only possible, but necessary. Nature sustains human life—not only by providing essential resources and regulating the planet’s vital systems, but also by nourishing the human spirit. It offers beauty and serenity through landscapes, spiritual reflection through connection with the natural world, and joy through simple loisirs such as a walk in the woods, a mountain hike, or an afternoon picnic—un déjeuner sur l’herbe, like in Manet’s masterpiece...

Figura 13 Édouard Manet, Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe, 1863, oil on canvas, H. 208 × W. 264.5cm

This renewed bond between art, environment, and society emerges as a powerful thread throughout the works explored—from Monet’s snow-covered paths to Courbet’s stormy seas, from Devambez’s cloudy skies to the vanishing lakes of Laurens. These paintings, once windows onto a world in perpetual motion, now stand as quiet witnesses to the transformations we are living through—and as calls to awareness. As climate change reshapes our landscapes and ways of life, art reminds us not only of what we risk losing, but of the imagination and empathy needed to shape a more sustainable future. In the delicate balance between beauty and urgency, perhaps lies our greatest chance for change.