A grey sports car outside a vineyard
A grey sports car outside a vineyard

The Aston takes in the Clos de la Roche vineyards in Burgundy, France

In the second part of our Great Drives series, Darius Sanai travels, in an Aston Martin DB11 V8 Coupe, from the Jura Mountains, Switzerland to London, UK via Burgundy and Champagne, France for a quick tasting of Amour de Deutz, 2008

In the Vallée de Joux in the Jura Mountains in Switzerland, signs for watch manufactures (factories) come as thick and fast as signposts for whisky distilleries on Speyside. Tempting though it was to make a stop (we at LUX know the watch manufactures well, but they require a little planning to visit), we dropped down a gear in our xenon-grey Aston Martin DB11 and zoomed out of the valley along snaking roads through deep forests. Every mile or so, the trees dropped away to reveal a lake or another valley. We opened the windows to hear the thrumming of the Aston’s V8 engine, a low, mellow but not over-loud rumble, bouncing off the slopes on either side of the road. This was a joyous drive.

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The DB11 Coupe is a piece of automotive architecture, sculpted, so it seems, from a block of granite. It feels satisfying to drive, even if you are not moving. It is very satisfying, and not a little fun, to drive when you are. The empty French roads allowed us to accelerate a little faster and farther than perhaps we would have done in Switzerland, where we had started that morning, or back in England, our final destination. It’s not overly challenging, but it is nicely weighted to give you a sense of Aston Martins of old, which were slightly macho and brutish as well as beautiful, like Sean Connery as James Bond, or perhaps a young Marlon Brando. Fortunately, too, it does not succumb to the latest trend of making extremely fast cars too easy to drive.

the black leather interior of a car

A peek inside the Aston Martin DB11

You would not buy the DB11 if you just wanted a very fast car, we mused, as the road, having descended down through the north side of the mountains, straightened out along a plain lined with wheat fields. These days, almost any electric car – and there seems to be a new one every day – can be programmed to go as fast as a moon rocket, but where’s the fun in that? This Aston, with its masterpiece of an exterior and equally chiselled interior, and lovely waffles of leather all around inside, is an event to be in and to arrive in. The hotel we were staying at that night in Burgundy, Hostellerie Cèdre & Spa Beaune, gave it pride of place in its car park.

A car behind an arched gate

The Aston Martin DB11 V8 Coupe in the courtyard of the Deutz champagne house, France

The Cèdre is exactly the kind of place you want to arrive at when touring France. A little palace or big mansion (take your pick), on the edge of the old walled town of Beaune in the centre of Burgundy’s wine country, it has a driveway lined with very smart cars that show the measure of its clientele, who travel from all over the world to stay and taste wines here. There is a maze of a garden with ornamental ponds and seating dotted around the foliage. We sat there that evening and enjoyed a glass of poignant 2019 Château de Meursault, salty and nutty and balanced, from a small producer just a couple of miles away. The air smelled like the wine. Inside, the Cèdre is traditional and rich, like the home of a wealthy merchant. By the bar, an Enomatic machine, which preserves open bottles of wine, serves a selection of the great vintages of Burgundy – no need to visit a wine estate, just stay here and taste.

the outside of a white hotel with tables and parasols in a garden

Garden dining by night at the Hostellerie Cèdre & Spa Beaune, Burgundy

Our room was characterful and split-level, with bedroom and bathroom on one floor and a living area in a gallery above, big enough for a group of four to stretch out on the sofa and chairs, fine wines in front of them, and chat into the night. The room didn’t have a big view but it had an interesting one, across the outskirts of Beaune to the vineyard slopes creating its eponymous, and delicious, red wine. One of the world’s most ancient vineyard sites, its history can be traced back 1,000 years. This is a soulful hotel.

A massage chair with a brown towel on it surrounded by stone and glass walls

The stylish Nuxe Spa in the vaults of the Cèdre

Our focus the next day was a drive across the countryside of central France, from one of its great winegrowing regions, Burgundy, to another, Champagne. These are connected by an autoroute, and getting there can take fewer than three hours. But that would not do justice to a car like this, so we took the back roads instead. First, we wound our way up the low, but very definite ridge of the Côte-d’Or, where we saw the same Burgundy vineyards we had seen from our hotel room, and then through forests, glades and ancient villages on the Plateau de Langres. This is Charlemagne territory, one of the most historic but unexplored parts of France. In each village there were at least a few grand houses, hundreds of years old, that wanted to tell a story.

A lounge with a fireplace and leather brown chairs

A cosy ambience at the Cèdre Lounge Bar,

The Aston ambled happily through them, like a big dog strolling with its mistress, then roared down the empty byways when the countryside emptied out a little. After a couple of hours, wanting to make it to Champagne for our next meeting, we headed back towards the autoroute, joining it near Charles de Gaulle’s home village of Colombey-les-Deux-Églises. On the smooth French highway, the Aston reverted to its alter ego of relaxed grand touring car, purring quietly.

Champagne bottles lined up

The sublime tasting at the Deutz champagne house, France

Deutz is not a champagne house that is familiar to so many international wine collectors. It doesn’t market itself like the region’s more famous names. Perhaps it doesn’t need to, we reflected, as our taxi dropped us at the maison’s cobbled courtyard (the Aston having been parked safely at our hotel for the night). After a tour of the massive underground cellars, we were shown into a beautiful historical house, its decor preserved as the Deutz family created it in the late 19th century. The tasting room was really a garden room, looking out onto lawns and intricately planted borders.

A window with flowers behind it

Window views from the garden room at the Deutz champagne house

Deutz is about quality more than marketing – more than anything, we thought, as we were guided through a selection of the maison’s champagnes. The vintage rosé, 2013, was delicate, balanced, floral and beautiful. They only got better. The prestige cuvée, Cuvée William Deutz, had a power, a richness and a kind of nobility to it – the sort of champagne you would serve at the coronation of a king (a shame the French got rid of theirs), or perhaps at a dinner to mark the 200th anniversary of your watch manufacture. But it was another one of their champagnes that really got into our souls.

three wine glasses on a table

Tasting of Cuvée William Deutz and Amour de Deutz

Amour de Deutz is made from 100 per cent Chardonnay, the best picks of the white grape that the maison gets its hands on every vintage. We tasted the 2013, 2009 and 2008. They were sublime: complex nutty creaminess, a savoury edge, richness yet ethereal lightness and a kind of golden flavour. Each was more powerful than the last, yet as gentle as a butterfly. Featherlight yet eternal.

Read more: Great Drive: Santa Monica to Napa Valley, Califonia

The next day, powered by memories of the Amour de Deutz, we cruised back to the UK in the beautiful, purring Aston, a case of golden champagne treasure in its (small but adequate) luggage compartment. The perfect little grand tour in the perfect grand tourer.

Find out more:

astonmartin.com

cedrebeaune.com

champagne-deutz.com

This article was first published in the Spring/Summer 2023 issue of LUX

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CMG Orchestra in Hollywood performing a piece composed by AIVA. Photo by Lance Bachelder

AIVA AI is an AI music composer which allows people to create their own personalised life  soundtracks. Here, LUX speaks to its founder, Pierre Barreau, about the future of AI and its impact on the music industry

LUX: Can you give us some background about your company and why you founded it?
Pierre Barreau: AIVA is a company I started almost seven years ago with my co-founder, whom I met at university. We were both musicians and engineers, and there was a natural inclination to start this company with a focus in both fields. The premise we started with was that, while music is an insanely rewarding thing to do and create, it also requires a lot of time, money, and tools. We believe more people out there should be able to create music and would enjoy it, but they don’t have the time or resources.

Our idea was to bring music creation to the masses: we want to help people who are complete amateurs or be able to create music with technology, as well as assisting professional musicians who may just want an assistant to suggest ideas when they have writer’s block, or need a guiding hand to in their creative process.

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LUX: You have both a creative and scientific background, from your filmmaking experience to your studies in computer science and engineering. When did you realise it was possible to marry these two fields?
PB: When you do any sizable project, it becomes very obvious that a good director or composer is one who is well-versed in technology. As a film director, you need to deal with camera software to edit the video you are shooting, you need to deal with lighting. For music creation, it is a bit more nuanced; of course, you can write music with pen and paper, but some of the most prolific music creators these days use their laptops to create music or synthesisers to create music digitally.

You open yourself up to the realm of possibilities if you consider technology as a creative partner when creating music. There is sort of no way, in my opinion, you can be an effective composer or director if you completely shut off technology.

Pierre Barreau

LUX: How would you respond to claims that AI is going to devalue the work of human beings, especially in the creative industries where job security is an issue?
PB: It is an important question; whenever you have a technology that raises the bar for what people are able to do in terms of creating music, it can be a bit scary. But what I would say is that historically there have been other technical advances that have brought music-making to the masses, and these have not reduced human creativity. In fact, they have supercharged it.

When the synthesiser was created, people were very scared that it was going to replace acoustic instruments and that it was going to lead to this world of digital, horrible sounding music. Instead, what it created was a world where we have new genres of music like hip-hop and electronic music. Another example is the invention of the digital audio workstation. It allowed people from their bedrooms to become producers so they didn’t need to hire expensive studios to record their music.

LUX: Can you tell us about your vision to create a personalised life-soundtrack for every person?
PB: I think the interesting thing is using AI to do what we can’t do as humans right now. One such thing is this idea of personalised soundtracks; let’s say you are going running and you want music tailored to your own performance or to stimulate you for the extra mile. Then imagine an AI that could compose what you need based on your own rhythm.

I think that would be a hugely powerful thing to have for very different industries, in this case, running, video games, and interactive content that have a lot of diversity in the gameplay and the stories that they tell, but the music tends to stay the same. Just being able to generate the music as the player moves through the game and the experience, and help them create their own story, can enhance the experience they are having.

LUX: Do you ever think this tool could ever be a danger to society? Could people use it as a means to cause damage?
PB: I don’t think I am worried about the directly manipulative aspects of AI, specifically in music. There could be a lot more said in other domains, like the audio, text and visual domains.

CMG Orchestra in Hollywood performing a piece composed by AIVA. Photo by Lance Bachelder

I think one potential challenge that could be very real is giving powerful tools to those whose intentions are just to flood the market and devalue music by humans. But I think that, fundamentally, human music operates on a completely different set of parameters. We go to concerts not to see a computer performing music but a performer dances, has a show and tells us about their own personal life story through their lyrics. People connect to stars because of their own personal drama and the story surrounding them. I think for that reason, It is more about the economic side, not about manipulation, despite what many depictions of AI would have you think.

LUX: Do you think we could ever get to a point where AI could compose a piece of musical genius, or would they always need human input to do this?
PB: In my opinion, whether we call someone a genius tends to be determined by two things. Firstly, the personal; some people will argue certain composers are geniuses, whilst others will argue totally the opposite. It depends on taste. Secondly, there is hindsight, like how we celebrate composers of the past who weren’t appreciated in their time. I think one of the reasons for that is because, in order to create something which is truly genius, you have to be ahead of your time. It won’t be appreciated immediately, but people will learn.

I think with AI , the aim is to create something humans appreciate now – that’s kind of the point. I am not sure anyone will be able to connect to something that an AI creates that we can’t appreciate now. That is also part of the reason why I am hopeful there will still be human creativity, because we can really only connect to something that pushes the boundaries if it is created by humans, if there is a story behind it. Otherwise, it may be devoid of meaning. But as far as creating something that is exceptionally good in terms of quality, I think AI can definitely do this.

CMG Orchestra in Hollywood performing a piece composed by AIVA. Photo by Lance Bachelder

LUX: How do you imagine an amateur would use your service, and how is this different to the way a professional musician might use it?
PB: For amateurs, the AI will help them to create a composition. Maybe they will modify the composition to better fit what they have in mind, or swap an instrument, add a little bit of musical effects, or switch a few notes here and there. But fundamentally, they will be equal partners, with the AI as writers.
Professionals may use more in-depth features like providing their own musical material instead of letting the AI generate compositions based on that. In general, Making a more in-depth modification of the material is usually the difference between the two.

LUX: Will AI be able to create experimental music like the kind that has never been heard before, or would it always be taken from what’s already existed?
PB: It is very possible to do something that does not exist. But again, we go back to this idea of being able to appreciate what pushes the boundaries, and I think it is harder for humans to appreciate something that is truly out there if it is created by a machine. Whereas, if it is created by humans, it is easier to find a way to connect to the story behind it, which leads you to appreciate this novel idea. Whilst it is functionally possible to do it, I don’t think it creates as much value as when a human does it.

Read more: Deutsche Bank’s global innovators meet in Silicon Valley

LUX: Do you think musicians today are welcoming this kind of innovation, or do you anticipate any backlash to this? What responses have you received so far?
PB: Both. Some people are extremely enthusiastic, even some professional composers that see it as an extension of their own abilities, as a tool. And then there are some people who are completely against it. Looking back at previous technological innovations, it is pretty much the same as before. There tends to be a change of opinion when people try it. Once they begin to try the software, they quickly realise it is just a tool. But when you just talk about AI music on a high-level, conceptual basis, people might be more inclined to fill in the blanks and think the technology is something that it actually isn’t, or does something that it actually can’t do. And so, for that reason, the feedback tends to be quite positive when people tend to use the product themselves instead of discussing high-level concepts.

Find out more: aiva.ai

All photos courtesy of AIVA AI

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case-02

Advisory / blog

The Photo Prize for Sustainability

Previously sponsored by Louis Roederer and the Fondation Louis Roederer in Paris, we create and produce The Photo Prize for Sustainability. The event receives extensive publicity on social media, mainstream media and through our own channels.

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The event receives extensive publicity on social media, mainstream media and through our own channels

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Akosua Viktoria Adu-Sanyah, Point In Time

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The event receives extensive publicity on social media, mainstream media and through our own channels

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Clara Hastrup at the awards ceremony

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The works of the finalists on display

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Darius Sanai, Audrey bazin, Maria Sukkar, Frédéric Rouzaud, Rita Kamale, Nadja Swarovski and Brandei Estes

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Maria Sukkar and Ina Sarikhani Sandmann

Judges and nominators include some of the most high profile collectors and thought leaders in the art world. The panel of seven judges, selected by LUX, each appoints two nominators, who in turn nominate three artists to submit works conforming to each year’s theme.

Throughout the judging process the judges, nominators and photographers all publicise the competition on their social and other media to create an organic buzz around the prize.

There are exhibitions of shortlisted candidates in London and Paris and a gala event for the Prize announcement. Guests include major art collectors, artists and leaders in sustainability. The event receives extensive publicity on social media, mainstream media and through our own channels.

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M’hammed Kilito, sand-silting at Oulad Edriss village near the oasis of M’Hamid El Ghizlane, Morocco

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M’hammed Kilito, last cluster of palm trees of disappearing Tanseest oasis, Morocco

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Photo by Louise Jasper

Alasdair Harris founded Blue Ventures, an ocean conservation enterprise supporting local fishing communities. Here, he speaks to Trudy Ross about the work they do across the globe, and the greatest challenges facing our oceans today

LUX: You have described yourself as a ‘reluctant social entrepreneur’. Can you expand on this?
Alasdair Harris: I studied zoology at University in Scotland, and was quickly hooked on marine science. I was enormously lucky to have an opportunity to study the impacts of climate change on reefs in the Indian Ocean, but was horrified by what I learned of the forecasts of ocean warming, and what that meant for the future of coral reefs. It wasn’t until I got to Madagascar − one of the poorest countries on earth − that I learned that there were also dire human implications of these unprecedented environmental changes. In particular, the impacts that climate change and overfishing were already having on the many millions of people in coastal communities that depend on the sea for their daily survival.

As a biologist I knew that the ocean is phenomenally productive, and that marine ecosystems have an amazing power to restore themselves, if we just give them the breathing space to recover. Working in Madagascar, I was struck by the overwhelming need to help communities cope with the challenges they faced from collapsing fish stocks. I saw that there was a critical need for conservation that worked for rather than against communities, harnessing the natural regenerative capacity of nature to help rebuild fisheries. But I realised that my PhD studies weren’t really going to help. So I hung up my diving fins and, with a couple of friends, I set up an organisation to try to work with coastal communities to explore ways of helping villages take practical action to rebuild their fisheries.

Photo by Garth Cripps

LUX: Can you provide some background on Blue Ventures, your goals, values, and the kinds of projects you run?
AH: Blue Ventures is a marine conservation organisation that works with coastal communities to rebuild fisheries, restore ocean life, and build lasting pathways to prosperity. We partner with traditional fishers and community-based organisations to design, scale, strengthen, and sustain fisheries management and conservation at the community level. We also bring partners together in networks to advocate for reform and share tools and best practices to support fishing communities across the globe.

Our work has helped to establish and protect vast swathes of coastal waters in Locally Managed Marine Areas, including the largest such areas in the Indian Ocean. We have also enabled fishers to boost their catches and incomes, improve their food security, and restore ocean life.

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In 2003, we started with one community in southwest Madagascar. Today, we are working across 14 countries across the tropics, protecting 17,000 km2 of vital ocean habitat and impacting the lives of more than 650,000 people.

LUX: Do you ever face resistance from locals, for whom fishing is their livelihood, when you recommend strategies which differ from their own? How do you approach this?
AH: Our approach is to work with communities to draw on the local knowledge, so that fishermen and women can come up with their own solutions to the challenges facing their seas. We can help with harnessing the power of data to enable communities to better interpret and visualise what’s going on in the water, and also by brokering learning exchanges with other communities that have piloted similar work and interventions elsewhere. We’ve helped build friendships and relationships between countless communities from dozens of countries over the years, from as far afield as Mexico and Mozambique – with community members travelling to meet others facing similar challenges.

Mangrove forest, Lambaora, south west Madagascar. Photo by Garth Cripps

LUX: What are the biggest challenges facing the fishing industry and our oceans, and what should corporations and governments be doing to combat this?
AH: The biggest challenge facing ocean fishing today is the total control and dominance of the sector by a small, and frequently highly destructive minority of predominantly unsustainable actors: so-called industrial fishing boats and companies. Conversely, the biggest group of ocean users – known as small-scale fishers – typically fishes relatively sustainably, and targets catches for local consumption and trade, supporting the livelihoods of over 100 million people, and feeding well over 1 billion.

Yet this population, which lives overwhelmingly in the so-called Global South, rarely has a voice in decisions regarding how, where, or when fishing takes place. The majority of fishing is carried out by politically powerful industrial fishing interests, which catch around one half of our seafood globally, and cause staggering damage to our oceans. The biggest proportion of this industrial catch is caught by bottom trawlers, vessels that drag weighted nets over the seabed to scrape up seafood. In some parts of the world over half of all seafood landed is caught in this way. Bottom trawling can be hugely devastating for marine ecosystems and those who rely upon them to eat and to live.

Drone shot over Barry’s Place, Atauro. Photo by Matthew Judge

LUX: Can you tell us about your work with maternal and child health, and why this is important to you?
AH: Given the lack of basic services in many remote coastal regions, in some countries we also help communities access basic healthcare through training and supporting women to serve as community health workers. We do not replace government health systems, but work to strengthen existing structures in close collaboration with government health actors and specialist NGOs. We also incubate Madagascar’s national health-environment network, which brings together 40 partner organisations to address the health needs of communities living in areas of conservation importance across the country.

Read more: Wendy Schmidt on philanthropy, technology and unexplored oceans

LUX: How can we utilise data and technology to improve the management of small-scale fisheries?
AH: Technology can play a transformative role in our mission, improving the speed, efficiency and inclusivity with which we work and communicate. From VR headsets that help communities visualise the underwater benefits of marine recovery, to satellite sensors that can track ocean warming, or monitor recovery of mangrove forests from space and provide. We’re committed to putting data and information in the hands of communities, to empowering them with the knowledge they need to rebuild fisheries.

Photo by Leah Glass

LUX: Do you believe it is possible for people to engage with marine tourism while promoting sustainable practices?
AH: Absolutely! Tourism done well can provide vital income for coastal communities worldwide, demonstrating the value of protecting the ocean. Done badly tourism can quickly undermine ecosystems, cultures and livelihoods. As tourists we have a huge role to play in being judicious in how we travel, and what practices and services we choose to support with our custom.

LUX: Finally, what advice would you give to an aspiring social entrepreneur looking to make a difference in the realm of sustainability?
AH: We’re living in an ecological emergency of unimaginable proportions and consequences. Ours is the last generation with a realistic chance of helping our species change course without causing irreparable harm to future generations and without causing catastrophic harm to most other species on our only planet. Change happens when an individual makes a decision to act. Don’t wait for someone else.

Find out more: blueventures.org

All photos courtesy of Blue Ventures

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Wide glassy river bank surrounded by trees below a twilight sky

Camp Xakanaxa, on the Khwai River bank

Ella Johnson travels through Botswana on an eco-safari, where the highlight is encountering more hippos than humans – in a landscape owned by wild creatures and where humans are just fleeting visitors

Arriving at Botswana’s Makgadikgadi salt pans in the dry season feels like landing on the moon. Travel westwards by helicopter from Leroo La Tau and watch the dense African bush melt into spacescape. Step out of the aircraft onto a vast flat plain: besides the grey earth cracking underfoot, a total absence of sound predominates.

It is an extraordinary place to be on the final leg of an ultimate safari tour through northern Botswana’s Okavango Delta and beyond. A designated UNESCO World Heritage Site, the Okavango is a vital wetland region teeming with biodiverse wildlife and habitats, and is the chief stomping ground of Desert & Delta Safaris, one of Botswana’s foremost tour operators. We have been touring with Desert & Delta for the past seven days, encountering creatures and terrains of encyclopaedic variety – and now this most surprising, lunar-like landscape.

Elephant viewing from one of the EVs at Chobe Game Lodge

We had started out at Chobe Game Lodge, in the Southern African country’s northeast. It is the only permanent game lodge inside Chobe National Park (so named after the Chobe River that intersects it), and we encountered 33 elephants at the waterfront before checking in. We also get an hour’s head start over neighbouring lodges on the morning game drive: for us, the difference between a rendezvous with three lion cubs and their vanishing as other trucks piled in.

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The government’s “high-value, low volume” tourism strategy finds full expression at Chobe. The lodge, managed by locals, was the first in Africa to hire an all-female guiding team (the Chobe Angels) and the first in Botswana to electrify its safari fleet – the solar-powered boats and EVs were a game-changer when it came to proximity with the Big Five.

Chobe is as upmarket as it is eco-conscious. It is run on biogas and has its own recycling plant, where waste plastic and glass are repurposed as decking. It is also where Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton celebrated honeymoon number two in 1975, and their very private suite has an infinity plunge pool. Our own room featured a roll-top bath and objets d’art from Zimbabwe, Morocco and Egypt; colours were vibrant and textures natural. Our favourite hangout was the cave-like bar, to which we headed at aperitivo hour for Amarula (Botswana’s answer to Baileys) before a meal on our private terrace.

the Honeymoon Suite patio at Chobe Game Lodge

Next came perfect isolation at our next stop, Nxamaseri Island Lodge, at the uppermost point, or Panhandle, of the Okavango. We reached it from Chobe via a short plane journey west and a boat ride through the Delta’s permanent, papyrus-lined floodwaters. The lodge occupies its own side channel, meaning we encountered more hippos than humans there. Our lodging – one of nine, connected via boardwalks through the overgrowth – was comfortable, albeit with fewer bells and whistles than Chobe. Evening meals were communal and hearty. Wi-Fi was intermittent.

The Nxamaseri region is home to around 325 of Botswana’s 500 native bird species, and we soon became adept at naming slate-coloured boubou, malachite kingfisher and Pel’s fishing owl from the comfort of our evening river cruise, G&Ts in hand. We had a more sobering experience in the mokoro, traditional wooden canoes that brought us nose to nose with crocodiles (perfectly safe, our guide testified).

We therefore welcomed the land-based trip to the Tsodilo Hills, another UNESCO World Heritage Site nearby, with cave paintings by bushmen including the San and Bantu, from 800 to 1300AD, and some reputedly far older. Although their meanings have become less intuitive over time, these paintings have been well shielded from the elements by way ofrocky overhang and ancient baobab. It is also, perhaps, the Botswana we had come to find. From our guide, Metal, we had already learnt that elephants have ten different vocalisations; that the Vogelkop bowerbird likes to decorate its nest with shiny things; that it is possible to deduce, from a pair of erratic footprints, that a guineafowl has recently met its end with a cheetah. So, too, as we studied the Tsodilo paintings more closely, rich patterns emerged.

Outdoor dining at the glass-fronted Leroo La Tau

Another short flight east across the floodwaters brought us to Camp Xakanaxa, on the banks of the Khwai River, in the arid Moremi Game Reserve. Here is a sense of drama: petrified trees dot the horizon; the fragrance of wild sage hangs heavy. Fitting, then, that our guide, TS, would race us out to catch sight of two evasive cheetahs after hours (they slinked across our path unexpectedly, our wheels kicking up dust as we screeched to a halt). Or that we’d have a close shave with Oscar, a battle-scarred hippo who loiters in Xakanaxa’s communal areas, after. Thank goodness, then, for Xakanaxa’s selection of South African reds (Saxenburg, Leopard’s Leap) to decompress after the action.

The kaleidoscope shifted again at Leroo La Tau, our final stop, in the Makgadikgadi Pans National Park. This is an ever-changing, aqueous environment – viewable from one of 12 glassfronted thatched suites hovering ten metres above the Boteti River, where we spent an entire afternoon watching zebras rove in their hundreds.

Read more: Ocean Fantasy: the Ritz Carlton Maldives, Fari Islands

Desert & Delta offers a salt-pan sleep-out for guests staying at Leroo for three nights or longer, but take our advice and pay upfront for a helicopter ride to beat the five-hour drive through the desert. On touching down, our personal chefs cooked a three-course meal for us on the flats; our bed was as if transposed from a Four Seasons, king-sized with crisp, white sheets – and unmediated views of the Milky Way. At roughly the size of Belgium, the Makgadikgadi salt pans are the biggest in the world: to sleep on them, tentless, was to experience darkness and solitude for the first time.

Flying back to Leroo, the moonscape slid back to more familiar bush territory. It is paradoxical, perhaps, that the highlight of our safari was a place devoid of life altogether. Yet it speaks directly to the appeal of a country whose ancient landscape continues to yield up the new and unexpected. In tapping into its extremities, Desert & Delta Safaris takes an old classic and offers a highly original take.

An otherworldly sleepout at Makgadikgadi salt pans

Getting there

We travelled to Botswana via Doha with Qatar Airways. The airline’s signature Qsuites in business class have sliding-door partitions to lose visibility of fellow passengers and bring an extra element of privacy (the partitions reach to chest height, so it’s not quite like having a full suite). On boarding we were greeted with a glass of Charles Heidsieck Rose Millesime and Diptyque amenities and an on-demand dining service with a broad choice (we went for cheese and port followed by a warming Karak Chai). More sociable passengers stopped by the Sky Bar, in its own section of the plane, for a negroni mid-flight. On our layover at Doha, we stopped in the Al Mourjan Business Lounge for sushi and more champagne. Its galactic art installation and water feature made it easy to pretend we were in a five-star hotel.

Find out more: qatarairways.com

Our hosts

Chobe Game Lodge, Nxamaseri Island Lodge, Camp Xakanaxa and Leroo La Tau are among nine Botswana safari locations owned by Desert & Delta Safaris and located within Botswana’s wildlife destinations.

Find out more: desertdelta.com

This article was first published in the Spring/Summer 2023 issue of LUX

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Courtesy of Porsche

In the third part of our Super Powers series from the Spring/Summer 2023 issue, LUX’s car reviewer gets behind the wheel of a Porsche 911 Carrera GTS

The Porsche 911 is an example of a design that has succeeded precisely because it is wrong. No car designer would come up with this car now. It is neither a two-seater nor a four-seater, it has an engine where the boot usually goes and a strangely situated storage space between the front wheels. No one else has created anything like it and nor are they likely to. But this endearing design has been with us for 60 years, initially updated slowly, latterly more quickly.

The latest generation, introduced a few years back, still has the car’s distinctive design features, but is as technically sophisticated as any other luxury sports car. The newest iteration, also known as the 992, is remarkably quiet and refined when driven slowly around town – too much so for some, who say it has been overtamed in search of ever broadening markets.

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We at LUX count ourselves Porsche 911 fans, yet, while we are in awe of the technical abilities, design and performance of the standard 992, we also felt it could offer a little more in terms of engagement and excitement. So we were pleased to be given the keys to this GTS model. Porsche typically produces some race-oriented 911 versions for enthusiasts, but they have certain compromises, including a lack of back seats and a handling set up that, while suitable for a smooth race track, is not ideal if you live in the actual world, as you find yourself rattling over potholes and scraping over bumps.

The GTS is a halfway house between the two. It is the 911 you buy if you drive every day but crave a little edge. As such, it is really a tweak of mainstream 911 models rather than anything spectacular, but Porsche engineering means the GTS models feel more special than they should.

The Porsche 911 Carrera GTS adds a frisson of extra excitement to an already practically perfect and endearingly distinctive supercar

First impressions were of a car that is a little more tuned and willing than the standard model. Everything is incremental: the engine sounds racier and is keener to engage; the steering is more lively. When we took our first roundabout, we felt the car spoke to us in a way standard models do not. On fast country roads,
the differences amplified. Our car had manual transmission – Porsche’s automatic gearshift is smooth and easy to use, but, for engagement, we like a manual when we can find one. Infamously, Ferrari has stopped making them, so raising the values of its last manual-transmission models.

With this and the other GTS enhancements, this car is a joy along country lanes. Acceleration is immediate and rapid: turn the steering wheel a fraction and it responds a fraction; exit speedily from a corner and you feel the back of the car tighten, which lovers of all 911s will appreciate. The GTS feels like a standard 911 that has taken a Chenot detox alongside Pilates and musclebuilding, like a friend who has been working on their fitness. We found it even more fun than the faster and more expensive 911 Turbo, which is a hoot for its “Look how fast we are going!” value, but less precise and delicate than this.

Read more: Lamborghini Huracán STO Review

So, the perfect Porsche? At everyday speeds, you won’t let out a rebel yell, as you might in some of its less sophisticated but popular competitors. And you will not love the manual transmission in town – always a compromise. But for adding an edge of excitement to an already beautiful, competent and desirable car, the GTS is as good as it could be. Get yours with rear-wheel drive, a manual gearbox and Michelin Pilot Sport 4S tyres for a car true to the spirit of the model.

LUX Rating: 18.5/20

Find out more: porsche.com

This article was first published in the Spring/Summer 2023 issue of LUX

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Jamiu Agboke

A recent exhibition spotlighted some of the most exciting young artists based in Britain. The twist? It happened in Paris. Artists photographed by Isabella Sheherazade Sanai

It is no secret that, post Brexit, Paris has been taking giant canvas-sized bites out of London’s position as capital of the European art world. So we loved Galerie Marguo’s playful contribution to the cultural battle, which took place in May and June of this year. The elegant gallery put on a show of British-based artists at its space in the Marais. Those taking part included Jamiu Agboke, Freya Douglas-Morris, Li Hei Di and James Prapaithong, photographed here, and others including recent RCA graduate Georg Wilson. Curated by Henry Relph, the show was entitled “A New Sensation”, in an arch reference to the iconic 1997 show, “Sensation”, at London’s Royal Academy of Arts, which featured the influential collection of Charles Saatchi, and was a major moment in triggering London’s art boom.

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LUX asks: what does it mean to be a London based artist today?

Jamiu Agboke
“I love London deeply and it’s my home, but it doesn’t mean anything to me personally to be an artist in London. That’s just due to the nature of my work and practice. Also, it’s a financial obstacle course for most artists.”

James Prapithong

James Prapaithong
“To be a London based artist today is to see the opportunities that the city can present, but also to accept the struggle that can go hand in hand, without giving up.”

Freya Douglas-Morris

Freya Douglas-Morris
“I was born in London and for the past 20 years I have lived and worked in Hackney. I am surrounded by people who look, listen, feel, make, share. I can access a multitude of creative sources, then retreat to my studio and work in a quiet setting. I need this contrast, to be surrounded by the inspiration and energy of a big city, and to paint in a room that is its antidote, calm and private. London is vast, giving room to the trials and errors of being an artist, but small enough to feel you belong.”

Read more: Visual art and music meet in Shezad Dawood’s latest exhibition

Li Hei Di

Li Hei Di
“I miss the sun. The lack of light makes me search for light in my paintings.”

Find out more: marguo.com

This article was first published in the Spring/Summer 2023 issue of LUX

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A blue car by a lake with an orange sunset
A blue car by a lake with an orange sunset

Mercedes E53 AMG, a highly enjoyable tourer

In the first part of our Great Drives series from the Spring/Summer 2023 issue, Darius Sanai travels from Santa Monica to Napa Valley in a Mercedes E53 AMG Cabriolet, ending his trip in Napa Valley with a glass of Harlan Estate The Mascot, 2016

There is a freeway that leads from downtown LA to the ocean at Santa Monica, but we chose to take Santa Monica Boulevard, which arrows straight to the ocean. On every corner, there seemed to be a liquor store or 7-Eleven to remind us of hold-up scenes in movies. Of course, we put the roof down – you have to in LA, particularly if you are a foreigner driving a valuable car – way to go in style. In fact, our understated mid-blue AMG, with its black interior, attracted only positive attention – a couple of thumbs ups, and encouragement to rev the engine from kids on a street corner. Even in the land of the Tesla, some things never change.

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At the Pacific Ocean, we turned right. Keeping the ocean to our left, we cruised through Santa Monica, which, from the road seems just another collection of low-rise buildings and garish signs. The arc of the ocean and bay occasionally appeared on the left, culminating in mountains dropping into the sea in the distance. In time, the traffic lights became less frequent, the buildings less condensed, rocks and cacti popped up by the side of the road and the ocean lapped the left- hand carriageway. But this is not a place to put your foot down, as ubiquitous signs warn of police speed checks. Our neighbouring drivers, some in quite exotic and speedy-looking cars, travelled dutifully at the posted speed limit, too.

We didn’t mind, we were in it for the long haul. Soon, the mountains dropped directly into the sea, the road became tighter and we could feel the spray sweeping over our open roof between patches of cloud above. Signs for Santa Barbara, our first destination, started to appear. We took a spontaneous turn off at Montecito, to see if we could catch a glimpse of the world’s most famous non-reclusive, non-royal, reclusive royals.

A wooden table on a terrace overlooking vineyards

Breakfast on LUX’s private deck at Meadowood, Napa Valley

We didn’t see them, but we did find a picture-perfect clapboard high street, complete with immaculate children clutching Instagrammable ice creams, watched over benignly by immaculate parents. We stopped for a sundowner at the Rosewood Miramar Beach hotel in Montecito, whose lawns stretch out across a miniature railway line and drop down to a beach. Sailing yachts gently rocked up and down on the ocean beyond, the setting sun was weak in the haze, the air was cool and all it needed was Cary Grant to stroll over and sit next to us to complete the scene.

Santa Barbara was a fun trickle along the back roads from Montecito, which is built into a steep hillside. A couple of spontaneous turnings took us through canyons, hugging the inner edge of mountainsides, facing other mountainsides, which faced other mountainsides – a plunge into wilderness just minutes from manicured civilisation of the wealthiest kind.

The E53 AMG seemed made for this kind of journey. There are AMG models that are more powerful, more focused, more hardcore, but this isa four-seater luxury convertible that has been subtly enhanced by the manufacturer to engage on the sporting side, with plenty of thrust from its V6 hybrid engine. The relatively benign cruiser that had taken us up the coastal highway earlier that day turned into a racket with a foot flat on the floor, surging forward with a roaring buzz from the engine at front. Big tyres and four-wheel drive gave great stability around corners on the twisting roads. This is quite a big, heavy car, so we are not talking Ferrari handling, but it has plenty of security, plus the fun of roof-down motoring.

A blue lit up car parked outside a lit up grand hotel

The Mercedes posing in front of the RosewoodMiramar Beach hotel in Montecito, California

It was pretty exciting. We imagined it would have been even more so for passengers in the back seat, where, unlike many sporting convertibles, there is plenty of room to stretch out. We arrived in Santa Barbara feeling we’d had something of an adventure workout, as you should on a good drive in a sports car.

This trip was about us finding our own personal nirvana: a long drive along the Pacific Coast Highway, or Highway One. As one of the world’s most legendary roads, the map showed it to follow the exact contours of the California coast between our location and San Francisco hundreds of miles north.  Setting off again the next morning, we noted that a Sunday was probably not the ideal day to start the main part of such a drive because we were not alone. Camper vans, family vehicles, pick-up trucks and the odd vintage convertible were inching along the road in weather that more resembled northern Europe in winter than California in Spring.

Fortunately, both turned out to be ephemeral. What has seemed a dull day threatening rain cracked as the clouds fractured to show deep blue fissures above, and soon the overcast sky was revealed to be no more than seven blobs of low cloud clinging to the mountainside in the early morning, and soon dissipated. The air was so clear I was convinced we could see across the ocean to Japan. The traffic dissipated a little, too, enough for us to speed up and enjoy the ride.

A blue Mercedes with its headlights on with a sunset and palm trees behind it

The Mercedes E53 AMG on a windswept Venice Beach, California;

The scenery before us altered between rocky curves, enormous bays, tiny inlets and forests pouring down mountainsides in the sea. We stopped just off the road at a beachside food shack-expecting preprepared food, instant coffee and canned drinks at best  and asked for a white coffee. “Full fat, semi-skimmed, oat or soy?” was the response, and there was a choice between Ecuadorian, Guatemalan and Indonesian roasts. Next to a plate of homemade brownies were three bowls of multicoloured Middle Eastern-style salads, rich with beans, Mediterranean vegetables and za’atar. no ordinary roadside shack.

As we headed north along the coast, every few miles there was a sign to the right, pointing along a road heading inland up some deep valley, towards mountains that looked as uninhabited as the moon. Occasionally, there were signs for wineries to visit along the roads, over the mountains and quite far away. Tempting though the idea was, we resisted, partly because we were driving, partly because a signpost in the US west to a given location does not mean you are anywhere near that particular location, and partly because our end destination was the ne plus ultra of California wines, Napa Valley.

There was a lot of wiggling coastline between here and there, though, and we stayed overnight at a hotel set back in the hills with a distant view of the sea, offering some of the local wines (from San Luis Obispo) in its list, along with a vegan club sandwich. One glass of refreshing Chardonnay was enough that evening.

A swimming pool surrounded by trees and sunbeds

Meadowood Resort’s adults-only Cabana Pool, Napa Valley, Calfornia

The sign of a truly great touring car is one you actively look forward to getting into and driving each morning. Some cars are comfortable but dull, where you feel, as a driver, that you would just as happily be a passenger. Other cars are exciting but tiring, making you weary of the idea of another day at the wheel. The AMG was neither: each morning it welcomed us with its promise of comfort, power and responsiveness. A more powerful and muscular car would have become frustrating in the traffic, and it had enough feedback and driver involvement to keep us looking forward to the next set of curves.

Setting out again along the (now emptier) northbound route on the Monday morning, I reflected further on the car’s virtues. The interior is both functional and lavish. We liked the sweep of the dashboard, the classic-style round vents in the middle, the big wide digital instrument display. The only misgiving I had developed was over the sound of the engine. Cars these days are downsizing their engines, accompanying them with electric motors in the move towards electrification. The AMG’s engine, so created out of a combination of petrol and electric motors, was certainly powerful and responsive enough, but, though the engineers had clearly tried, it did not have the mellow, throaty voice you would expect of a big droptop car with sporting ambitions. That is not unique to AMG, though, and it is a characteristic that engine lovers will need to get used to until, in a decade or two, they are phased out completely,

After what seemed a million mountainsides curving into the sea, it was a relief to stop for coffee at the cute little seaside town of Carmel, and wander through its art stores and boutiques, and again a little later in the bigger town of Monterey, where we visited the oceanfront Monterey Bay Aquarium, having a play with manta rays in the process. This is no normal small-town aquarium: its Executive Director is Julie Packard of the Packard tech family, and, in its mission to inspire ocean conservation, it leads research into marine welfare, advocates to end plastic pollution and campaigns for, and monitors, sustainable seafood production.

A white wooden bedroom with a white bed and dark brown wooden doors and floors

Meadowood’s refined yet rustic Cottage Room with private porch, Napa Valley, California

A couple of hours later, we were navigating San Francisco’s cityscape, before hitting the roof-down button again as we approached the Golden Gate Bridge. Doing so in a droptop Mercedes with a little 1960s music playing was perfect. By that stage, we were seriously appreciating the car’s seats, which felt as if they had been created by many thousands of German engineering hours. We felt neither stiff nor uncomfortable, despite the long days on this great drive.

Napa Valley starts rather abruptly: one moment you are in an urban road system in the unprepossessing town of Napa, having left San Francisco Bay just behind you; the next, you are driving up a steep country road, hillsides either side, vineyards all around, with signs pointing to estates familiar to anybody with a passion for a fine wine. We carried on along the main highway, and, although this is no place for speed-testing, we were grateful for the rapid- fire acceleration of the car when overtaking a couple of pieces of rolling vineyard equipment in the face of oncoming traffic. Crossing the valley and the riverbed, we came to the gates of what looks like a grand residence on the hillside, surrounded by forest rather than vines.

Meadowood Resort was acquired and expanded by Napa Valley’s first family, the Harlans of Harlan Estate, as the area’s first luxury resort in 1979. Our accommodation was a wooden lodge with a large veranda up on the hillside, a big bedroom decked out in luxury country style and a little sitting room with a bottle of The Mascot, the latest wine creation from the Harlan family, as a welcome gift on the coffee table. We sat on our private veranda with a view across through the trees and out to the vineyards of Napa and enjoyed the balanced power of the wine – a vivid, rich, layered Cabernet Sauvignon.

Read more: A Tasting Of Organic Boutique California Wines From Diamond Creek

It was a short walk to the tennis courts and an almost Olympic-sized outdoor pool, where we swam despite the chilly weather that had descended. The cuisine by the pool is Napa Valley country perfection: grilled tuna, parsley, beans, a little tomato coulis, rucola. A bit further along the resort’s forest, the spa looked out over the trees and offered very natural, wholesome treatments in absolute silence, marked only by occasional birdsong. It was altogether a fitting conclusion to one of the world’s great drives.

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Teahpoo Bubble, 2 August 2017, Teahupoo, Tahiti, French Polynesia. © Ben Thouard

As Secretary-General of the Commonwealth of Nations, a central pillar of Patricia Scotland’s diplomatic work is to help the group of 56 Commonwealth countries – many with historical links to the UK – adapt to the impacts of climate change. It is an issue she knows all about

Scotland first became familiar with the effects of climate change in August 1979, when she was 24. In that month Hurricane David, a category 5 tropical storm, made landfall in her country of birth, Dominica, in the Caribbean. “It was one of the biggest category 5 hurricanes we’d seen,” she says. The damage was devastating: Dominica’s capital, Roseau, was described as “resembling an air raid”. Around three-quarters of Dominica’s population were made homeless and three-quarters of banana and coconut crops were destroyed.

“I remember it so graphically,” says Scotland. “My father, who was a very skilled carpenter-builder, left the UK and went to Dominica for months to help rebuild, because people had no houses and nowhere to stay. And it was a great shock.”

At the time, it was assumed that such severe storms would occur perhaps once a lifetime. But, owing to climate change, they may be becoming more frequent, as Scotland is only too aware, following two further disasters related to climate-change hazards. In August 2015, Tropical Storm Erika caused severe damage in Dominica and neighbouring countries. Then, in 2017, came Hurricane Maria.

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“It was the biggest hurricane the world had seen at that point,” remembers Scotland. Another category 5, Hurricane Maria encompassed the entire nation. “Everyone on the island was impacted,” she says. Dominica is thought of as a natural idyll with lush green vegetation, but when Scotland visited that year she barely recognised it. “Even the bark from the trees had been removed. I remember looking at one tree – it had one leaf and everything else was brown.” Decades of development, from bridges and schools to roads and houses, had been ripped from the ground and dumped in the sea.

Four decades on from her initial experience, the challenges, says Scotland, are to be ready for hurricanes and storms. “How can we build resilience while also mitigating the issue of climate change more broadly?” she asks. Today, these challenges, which also include encouraging financial institutions to step up and get creative, have become part of Scotland’s job.

Patricia Scotland was born in Dominica in 1955, moving at the age of two with her family to London, UK, where she still lives. In the 1970s she obtained a law degree and was called to the bar, and in 1991 she made history by becoming the first black woman appointed to be what was then a Queen’s Counsel (QC), marking her as an elite lawyer.

Later, in the 1990s, Scotland entered the UK government, holding a number of posts related to law and diplomacy, including a stint as Attorney General, the government’s most senior legal adviser. Her post came to an end in 2010, when the UK government changed. Then, in 2016, Baroness Scotland took up her current role as the sixth Secretary- General of the Commonwealth, a post she holds until 2024.

The Right Honourable Baroness Scotland

The Commonwealth is a voluntary association of countries, many of which were once part of the British Empire. Established following decolonisation to maintain the links between the countries, today there are 56 members. Commonwealth states are on the front lines of climate change, says Scotland.

Of the 56 countries, 33 are small states, and 25 of those are small island developing states. “We’d rather call them ‘big blue ocean states’,” she says. “Some of them have [marine] jurisdictions larger than the largest big land states.” These states are heavily exposed to sea-level rise and tropical cyclones, and many depend on marine ecosystems such as coral reefs – which are also threatened by climate change.

Extreme weather events such as hurricanes will keep happening, but, as Scotland points out, we can reduce the impacts if we take action. There are two major approaches to climate change, which go hand in hand: mitigation and adaptation. Mitigation means cutting greenhouse-gas emissions as much and as fast as possible, so the climate changes as little as possible. Alongside this, adaptation means helping countries and communities become resilient to the unavoidable impacts of climate change. Communities that have adapted suffer fewer deaths and less damage from extreme weather events, and recover more quickly and thoroughly. But adaptation costs money.

In 2009, developed countries promised to finance adaptation programmes in developing nations. They committed to provide $100 billion per year by 2020. “It was a bold recognition that this was necessary in order to assist those member states that had not contributed to the creation of the crisis,” says Scotland. “This was a real question of equity and fairness, because they were the ones who were going to have to adapt and mitigate a situation that they had not created.”

However, the promise was broken: even in 2023, annual adaptation funding is far short of $100 billion. “Although the world made that commitment, it didn’t actually identify how the $100 billion was going to be raised,” says Scotland. Worse, some governments were still contesting the reality of climate change. “That seems unreal now in 2023, but it was very real in 2009.”

And today, the adaptation bill has gone up, partly because of inflation, and partly because the delay has meant more urgency and more severe impacts. A 2021 UN Environment Programme report estimated just how much money is required annually for environmental projects, including adaptation. The bill comes to more than $500 billion per year. Other estimates are even higher. The bill for climate adaptation and other environmental needs will keep going up the more we delay, but there is a silver lining, says Scotland. Investing in adaptation reduces future costs and will enable the global economy to grow more. “This is a real invest-to-save,” she says.

The challenge is mobilising the money. It’s a multi-pronged challenge, but innovative financial strategies are a “really important” part of the solution, says Scotland. Several strategies have been proposed, and she says governments and funders should cast a wide net. “It’s not either-or, it’s all of them. People tend to say, ‘we’ll do this or we’ll do that’. It’s not ‘or’, it’s ‘and, and, and’.”

The Crack, 8 September 2017, Teahupoo, Tahiti, French Polynesia. © Ben Thouard

One useful form of finance is debt restructuring. Many developing countries have significant debts that reduce their ability to pay for new projects and make it harder for them to raise money from elsewhere. Countries like Dominica took out loans to pay for infrastructure, but when the hurricanes destroyed the infrastructure the government still had to pay the debts. “You still have that high level of indebtedness, but then you have to build back better [to become resilient],” says Scotland. “The costs are two or three times higher, but you’re burdened with the last debt with no relief.” This creates a “terrible cycle”.

To tackle this issue, multiple initiatives are helping countries manage or reduce their debt. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the G20 countries created a Debt Service Suspension Initiative. This relieved the debts of dozens of low-income countries, helping them to fight the pandemic, but it expired in December 2021. Meanwhile, the Commonwealth offers its member states a number of tools to manage their debts. The more that low-income countries can control their debts, the more money they will be able to raise for adaptation.

A related concept is a debt-for-nature swap. Here, a country has some of its debt written off, and, in exchange, the government commits to undertake environmental-protection initiatives, which can include climate adaptation. The Seychelles, a Commonwealth member, is a prominent success story. In the 2010s, the country set out to convert $21.6 million of its national debt into nature programmes. These included financing for climate adaptation by improving management of coasts, coral reefs and mangroves – all of which protect against tropical storms and rising seas, and provide other ecosystem services.The country also protected some of its waters.

Read more: Jean-Baptiste Jouffray on the future of the world’s oceans

Scotland says it’s essential to help countries obtain the climate money that is out there. “Most of the countries, unfortunately, that are most in need are least able to get access,” she says. Often they are told that they do not have enough empirical data to support their application, or that they haven’t followed arcane bureaucratic procedures. Scotland compares it to Waiting for Godot. In response, the Commonwealth has created a Climate Finance Access Hub, which provides expert advisers to help countries navigate the application processes. “We’ve already delivered into the hands of our small developing member states $70 million,” says Scotland. The pandemic caused delays, but more is coming. “We have over $420 million worth of projects in the pipeline.”

For Scotland, it’s creative and collaborative projects like these that will ensure countries adapt to climate change. “I believe we can do this,” she says. “This is a matter of choice.”

Perhaps it should be no surprise that an organisation like the Commonwealth, which has such a mix of countries among its members, is ahead of the curve on tackling climate change. Back in 1989, three years before the Rio Earth Summit, where countries agreed in principle to stop climate change, the Commonwealth issued the Langkawi Declaration on the Environment. The declaration highlighted “the serious deterioration in the environment” and called on governments to commit to “sustainable development”. More than three decades later, everyone else is catching on.

Find out more: thecommonwealth.org

This article was first published in the Deutsche Bank Supplement in the Spring/Summer 2023 issue of LUX

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A man working with wire and plaster
A man working with wire and plaster

Syed Muhammad Zakir working on his exhibition, Maya

Bangladeshi artist Syed Muhammad Zakir’s works typically focus on environmental issues and their impact on the public. His latest exhibition, Maya, which focuses on the fictitious city of Baghreb, is no different. Tien Albert reports

Originally trained a sculptor, Zakir’s art now spans different dimensions and mediums. He has created several pieces using unpredictable protruding pipes, and has also delved into performance art, cracked and bleak paintings, street art, and land art reminiscent of the style of Richard Long.

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Zakir’s land art, in particular, tends to focus on men and women’s relationship with nature. Often taking place in public parks, the artist uses easily available materials, such as leaves from the ground or sand from beaches, to draw symmetrical patterns. Examples of this include “White”, a white rectangle painted on a wall separated by a gap, so a banana leaf could successfully grow between the two, and “Art can be anywhere”, a series of symmetrical patterns formed in a park between trees using fallen leaves.

 

A plant growing between two walls with white paint on it

White

Zakir’s performance art is often more political, usually involving a form of contemporary dance, sometimes in highly politicised environments such as public protests.

His latest exhibition at the Bengal Shilpalay gallery blurs the line between traditional show and land art. There is a focus on the readymade, which is juxtaposed with Zakir’s typical scratched, scrawly canvases.

Zakir’s proclivity for easily available materials is obvious: the exhibition uses mundane objects, such as plastic bottles, an overflowing plastic bag, and styrofoam to make a commentary on mankind’s neglect of nature.

Bin bags on the ceiling held up by wooden sticks

Dhop

A tree trunk on the side of steps

Prokrity (Nature)

Plastic items hanging off a cart

Bhangari

The objects are placed on the floor for the viewer to walk past, placing them in ‘Baghreb’, an imagined city, making the exhibition as a whole feel much more interactive. Even within the exhibition space there are frequent clashes between mediums.

Read more: Shimul Saha: An artist of all mediums

Paintings are placed next to readymade items, which are placed next to plants and poems from the artist’s wife, Sanjeeda Shahid, symbolising the over-empowerment of everyday objects

rubble and sand on the floor below a painting of power lines

The City of Baghreb

Maya is available to view at the Bengal Shilpalay until Saturday 2nd September 2023

This article was published in association with the Durjoy Bangladesh Foundation

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