Marguerite Humeau’s art is a visionary blend of mythology and science that feels as if it exists in another dimension of space and time – where time and geometry bend towards the ancient past and the distant future. Her practice, as methodical as a laboratory experiment, has evolved over the years into a non-stop, almost alchemical exploration of materials, media and timelines. The result? Hovering between the ominous and ethereal, these creatures are clairvoyant and seem to hold the secrets of what is about to happen to this fragile planet. Rooted in a deep fascination with biological forms and natural phenomena, Hummer’s work effortlessly incorporates abstraction and symbolism, allowing her to enter imaginative realms that feel extreme yet surprisingly believable. In these spaces, she imagines poetic yet unsettling future worlds.
In conjunction with Art Basel Miami Beach, Humeau recently had a major exhibition at ICA Miami, her first major institutional exhibition in the United States. The Observer caught up with her to delve deeper into how her art spans mythology and biological fiction to explore the future evolution of human existence while being aware of the eternal cycle of transformation and mutation that governs the universe.
Occupying the third floor of the museum, Humo conjures up a desolate landscape – somewhere between posthuman and prehuman – a harsh and mysterious realm inhabited by totemic figures who seem to enigmatically Survived the Earth’s sudden change. Inspired by her time working in the Colorado desert. “It was very dry, life was very difficult there because the area went through a big drought. There were sandstorms, rocks. You felt very vulnerable in that natural environment,” she recalled. However, as Hume spent more time there, she began to notice that the abundant life had learned to adapt. Most strikingly, she observes that survival often means embracing movement—a nomadic life of constant travel. “It got me thinking that maybe in the future, once the Earth dries up, we’ll have to become airborne creatures.”
Hume’s sculptural creatures hang from the walls, suspended in the air as if undulating in space, evoking an eerie duality. They’re like serious, winged shamans – mysteriously silent and carrying an ancient, untouchable wisdom – but they could just as easily be terrifying aliens from a post-human world. Each has a unique name, but they all gather in what Hume calls “the Conference of the Sky,” gathering to discuss their survival after being exiled from terrestrial existence and adapting to an ethereal aerial state.
Hummer conceived the exhibition space as a kind of temporal portal, allowing viewers to grapple with the mystery of these aerial nomads. The creatures appear to look at the viewer from a high perch, as if searching for signs of recognition. These creatures are something other—more than human yet familiar—either a replacement for humanity, a further evolution of merging with other species, or an entirely new life form. “We don’t know if this will happen in the near future. We don’t know if they are an evolution of humans or if there are new species. It’s this fluidity – this sense of timelessness and placelessness – that permeates the whole show. Everything in the exhibition revolves around the concept of metamorphosis, a perpetual movement that is both a survival strategy and a last breath before extinction.
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In creating this gripping, immersive narrative, Hummer once again demonstrates her extraordinary ability to create myth—an art form that seems to be in her DNA. Her creatures are drawn from timeless archetypes, ancient truths and echoes of creatures that once lived, all intertwined to form a vision of the future. After all, Hume is at heart a world-builder, a prophet who uses her art as a mirror for the future.
These aerial sculptures share space with monumental sculptural forms that are firmly rooted in the ground—a monolithic presence that resembles a vast mycelial system erupting from the earth. They rise vertically into the sky, reflecting their aerial counterparts’ desire for transcendence and upward movement. However, their decaying surfaces – with mold-like patterns and flesh-like details – portend a darker fate: slow degradation and extinction. Their surfaces ooze with sticky petals or scales and are covered in what appears to be poisonous secretions, which may be a defense mechanism against external threats or an attempt to flush out toxins already present in the body. The layer of beeswax that coats them adds an uncanny, almost epidemic quality, like parched earth or peeling skin cracked by relentless drought and heat. It’s a haunting, visceral image that Hummer links to art historian Petra Lange-Behnt’s statement that “the soil was filled with rotting corpses.”
Each sculptural work in the exhibition reflects Hume’s relentlessly experimental approach to materiality, where she blurs the lines between organic textures and artificial imitations of popular phenomena. Her practice explores the fusion—and inevitable hybridization—of humans and nature, prompting profound rethinking of the body, industrial remains, and the intricate web of interdependencies we share with the non-human world.
Hummer explains that her craft begins with felt. But in her studio, along with her collaborators, she began layering unconventional materials—rust, earth, and wax—to push their expressive possibilities, creating dense, evocative textures and patterns that make The work is full of energy. Each material was chosen out of her desire to capture a specific impression, to imitate a specific natural phenomenon with uncanny precision.
On top of the winged shaman statue, Hummer added ovoid glass shapes, which she describes as elements of the respiratory system. Using this translucent, almost alchemical material, she envisions a future in which survival requires entirely new forms of exchange between living things and an environment that has become too hostile to breathe.
To orchestrate this intricate blend of symbiotic and alternative modes of coexistence, Hume worked with an incredibly diverse group of experts—anthropologists and paleontologists, yes, but also foragers and clairvoyants. She is aware of the limitations of science and therefore does not stop at research or data. Instead, she pushes boundaries, blending scientific speculation with alternative wisdom, excavating long-lost lives and forgotten echoes of distant truths. What emerges is a vision of biofiction that she aptly describes as “scary but possible”—dystopian, yes, but also illuminating, a chilling glimpse into where our planet might be headed. “I’m taking the essence of real events and then expanding into ‘what if?’ scenarios,” Hummer said. “I’m prototyping worlds that are invisible, extinct, or parallel to ours.”
This unique storytelling—rooted in scientific data but fueled by something more mysterious—is most fully expressed in Humo’s new video work, *sk*/ey- (2024), from which the exhibition takes its name. In the film, sweeping shots of her time in the desert are combined with an epic narrative arc: barren landscapes and violent storms play out alongside close-ups of the countless life forms that persist in this unforgiving terrain . “I didn’t have a storyboard or anything, but I just felt like I had to record it. I had to feel that way because the artwork is the land,” she explains. The final product – largely abstract and driven by the sublime – emerges later, as if determined by nature’s sublime moments.
The saxophone-based musical composition emphasizes the visuals, enhances the drama, and adds an emotional dimension to the experience. For the first time Huemore has incorporated a formal musical component into her work, the evocative score shifts seamlessly between smooth, flowing movements and sharp, rhythmic breaks, evoking a sense of suspense and raw emotion.
Yet characters remain conspicuously absent from the film, their presence instead suggested through the destructive traces of anthropological influence. From the origins of life to a violent storm that wipes out all living things, leaving behind the possibility of a new non-human world, the narrative forces viewers to grapple with profound ecological and existential questions. “There is a kind of storm where all animals decide to migrate, opening up the possibility of new modes of survival,” Hummer said. Unable to take root in a barren, barren world, terrestrial life forms transformed into sky nomads – restless inhabitants of another plane, seeking survival in unknown dimensions.
Hugh Mo does not discuss the answer. Instead, she presents dense metaphors that invite the viewer to interpret the story in their own way. The result is a powerful work of speculative fiction—one that opens up ideas for possible futures without prescribing any single outcome. As Hummer is quick to clarify, the exhibition does not aim to paint a bleak or explicitly posthuman scenario. Instead, she raises a hypothesis, a question mark: What types of hybrid life forms might persist? “It’s an opportunity to see ourselves as part of the greater history of the universe. In the larger picture of the history of the universe, we don’t really matter,” she explains. “I hope this is an invitation for us not to think in terms of individuals or species, but to embrace the interconnected dimensions of our lives. Ultimately, life survives. Through my work, I am exploring how species survive and which Species will survive and think about how species have survived in the past.
Ultimately, Hume’s vision remains both vast and humbling. This is not about predicting the end of the world, but about expanding our sense of scale to understand how we fit into a cosmic history that extends far beyond our own.
“Margaret Hummer: *sk*/ey-” will be on display at the ICA Miami through March 30, 2025.
