projects > art > PETRO/ENTANGELMENTS: How to be Present to Aqualife
PETRO/ENTANGELMENTS: How to be Present to Aqualife
PETRO/ENTANGELMENTS: How to be Present to Aqualife
“Petro–” comes from the Ancient Greek pétra (πέτρα), meaning rock or stone, the root of “petroleum” — petra + elaion (oil) — “rock oil” formed from ancient organic matter compressed through geological time. It speaks of deep time, transformation, and the mineral origins of both life and fuel. Today, “petro–” signifies the vast network of fossil-based energy, extractive capitalism, and petrochemical dependency that sustains our material and digital worlds.
“Entanglement,” from Middle English tanglen and Old Norse töngull — meaning seaweed, something that clings or intertwines — evokes the inseparable relationships between human and non-human systems. Together, PETROENTANGLEMENTS suggests a condition where geological, biological, and technological lives are woven into a shared fabric of coexistence and consequence.
Petroentanglements invites audiences to descend into the submerged ecologies of the Adriatic Sea (to be adaptable to other regions), where traces of human industry merge with marine life. Developed through scuba dives and underwater fieldwork near post-industrial sites around Rijeka, Croatia, it explores how petrochemical residues continue to shape aquatic ecosystems. It is both observation and meditation — on toxicity, resilience, and the ethics of coexistence — reflecting on oil not only as a pollutant but as a material that binds human and non-human futures.
This body of work includes analogue holography, synchronised video works, drawings, and a manifesto for underwater artistic observation.
As with much of Molga’s work, PETROENTANGLEMENTS remains an evolving inquiry. It proposes new ways of sensing the Anthropocene through immersive artistic research — merging technology, biology, and empathy. It invites us to be present for aqua life, to listen where access is denied, and to recognise the fragile beauty that persists within damaged waters.
SUPPORTED BY
CITIZEN SCIENCE INIATIVE
Petro/entangelments
heavy with air and habit
your mask narrows
the world to a circle
your suit folds your body
into constraint.
crossing into water
is not entering
another place
it is entering
another kind of time,
measured by
rhythm
of your
breath
reassure your body
that it can breathe
that it belongs here for a while.
there are no roads below
only a landscape
light
forms
organisms in a state of flux
and those
who
settled in place
sediment and petro/remains
marks of industry
now softened by
algae and patience.
navigation is a negotiation
with currents
shadows
and landmarks.
The sea edits colour
red fades first
blue endures.
you only can see what water
decides to reveal.
let yourself hover
in suspension
neutral, almost erased
observation begins when movement ends
do not search
wait
Become a sponge
a pipe
a coral skeleton
let the landscape
breathe around you
residues gleaming
like false stars
fish weaving
through the wreckage
life returning to ruins.
stay until time thickens
notice how decay
and persistence
blend
what floats
plankton, dust,
or waste?
how does light
fracture through it?
are plants veiled
thriving
or drowning in fine sludge?
is life abundant
shy
or absent?
what is persistent
and what is scarce?
note also the invisible
temperature shifts
pressure
rhythm of breath
metallic echoes
from distant structures
record with care
The act of seeing
must come before
the act of documenting
A camera captures
only what has been felt
write before forgetting
Not only data
but sensations
silence
resistance
awe.
return often
Only time reveals
the slow choreography of change
pipes rusting into coral
sediments thickening
into stories.
observation
is not extraction
it is relation
to see is to entangle
to witness is to care
we are all suspended
in the same medium
fish
algae
diver
and machine
breathing one another's remains
to observe the sea
is to become part of it
to observe a fish
is to become a fish
ENTRY
heavy with air and habit
your mask narrows
the world to a circle
your suit folds your body
into constraint.
crossing into water
is not entering
another place
it is entering
another kind of time,
measured by
rhythm
of your
breath
DESCENT
Reassure your body that it
can breathe, that it belongs
here for a while.
There are no roads below,
only a landscape, light, forms,
organisms in a state of flux
and those who settled in
place, sediment and petro-
remains — marks of industry
now softened by algae and
patience.
Navigation is a negotiation
with currents, shadows and
landmarks.
The sea edits colour: red
fades first, blue endures.
You only can see what water
decides to reveal.
STILLNESS
Let yourself hover in
suspension — neutral, almost
erased.
Observation begins when
movement ends.
Do not search; wait.
Become a sponge, a pipe, a
coral skeleton.
Let the landscape breathe
around you:
residues gleaming like false
stars,
fish weaving through the
wreckage,
life returning to ruins.
Stay until time thickens.
Notice how decay and
persistence blend.
Conceptually, this link to scientific holography is critical. While laboratories use holograms for precise measurement, Petroentanglements expands their role into a perceptual and political space. The holograms operate at the threshold of visibility - revealing and obscuring simultaneously - mirroring both the physical difficulty of seeing underwater and the institutional opacity surrounding polluted sites. Referencing scientific uses of holography (e.g. digital holographic microscopy in aquatic toxicity studies), the project repositions the medium as a tool not only for detection but also for public awareness, questioning who has access to such knowledge and how it is communicated.
RECORD
What floats — plankton, dust,
or waste?
How does light fracture
through it?
Are plants veiled, thriving, or
drowning in fine sludge?
Is life abundant, shy, or
absent? What is persistent
and what is scarce?
Note also the invisible:
temperature shifts, pressure,
rhythm of breath,
metallic echoes from distant
structures.
Record with care.
The act of seeing must
come before the act of
documenting.
A camera captures only what
has been felt.
RETURN
before forgetting.
Not only data, but sensations
— silence, resistance, awe.
Return often. Only
time reveals the slow
choreography of change:
pipes rusting into coral,
sediments thickening into
stories.
Observation is not extraction;
it is relation.
To see is to entangle.
To witness is to care.
We are all suspended in the
same medium — fish, algae,
diver, and machine — breathing
one another’s remains.
To observe the sea is to
become part of it.
To observe a fish —
is to become a fish.























































