The Compost Story

  • November 21, 2020 / 12:00

Director: Finian Makepeace
USA, 2017, 7', HDD, color
English with Turkish subtitles

Every year 60 billion pounds of food material go to landfills in the U.S. alone, creating methane gas that is poisoning us and destroying our home. What would happen if this mineral-rich food materials are diverted and turned into compost? Join the movement to regenerate the planet, starting with soil!

How We Grow

How We Grow

Food for Change

Food for Change

Shade Grown Coffee

Shade Grown Coffee

Climate Limbo

Climate Limbo

Jozi Gold

Jozi Gold

Seeds of Profit

Seeds of Profit

Mega Fires

Mega Fires

Hacking for the Commons

Hacking for the Commons

Lords of Water

Lords of Water

Rewilding

Rewilding

The New Breed: The Rise of the Social Entrepreneur

The New Breed: The Rise of the Social Entrepreneur

Mirror

Mirror

A Fistful of Rubbish

A Fistful of Rubbish

Biomimicry

Biomimicry

The Promise of Biomimicry

The Promise of Biomimicry

Stolen Fish

Stolen Fish

Nations United: Urgent Solutions for Urgent Times

Nations United: Urgent Solutions for Urgent Times

A Regenerative Secret

A Regenerative Secret

From Weedy Forests to Grassy Woodlands

From Weedy Forests to Grassy Woodlands

The Compost Story

The Compost Story

How We Live: A Journey Towards a Just Transition

How We Live: A Journey Towards a Just Transition

Soothsayer Serenades I Beautiful People by Sarp Dakni

Soothsayer Serenades I Beautiful People by Sarp Dakni

Today we are thrilled to present the second playlist of Amrita Hepi’s Soothsayer Serenades series as part of the Notes for Tomorrow exhibition. 

Paris Without End (1959-1965)

Paris Without End (1959-1965)

In the 60s, Alberto Giacometti paid homage to Paris, the city where he lived, by drawing its streets, cafés, and more private places like his studio and the apartment of his wife, Annette. These drawings would make up his last book, Paris sans fin (Paris Without End). 

Midnight Stories: The Soul <br> Aşkın Güngör

Midnight Stories: The Soul
Aşkın Güngör

The wind blows, rubbing against my legs made of layers of metal and wires, swaying the leaves of grass that have shot up from the cracks in the tarmac, and going off to the windows that look like the eyes of dead children in the wrecked buildings that seem to be everywhere as far as the eye can see.