Rumination

I travel across the arid plains of the American West, between Kansas and Colorado. The rocky soil is poorly suited to agriculture; instead, ranching and cattle production dominate the landscape. In this country—one of the world’s leading beef producers—production is largely intensive. The industry is marked by a high degree of concentration, with a small number of major companies controlling a significant share of the market. Production is organized into specialized sectors, while slaughtering and distribution are handled by four multinational corporations. These conglomerates rely largely on a working-class labor force, often made up of migrants of Latin American origin.

In feedlots, cattle are fed grain-based diets supplemented with soy protein, vitamins, and antimicrobials. Growth hormones are sometimes used to accelerate production and reduce costs. These large-scale operations consume vast quantities of water and have a significant environmental impact, particularly through the pollution of soil and groundwater caused by manure runoff. High-density conditions also facilitate the spread of disease, leading to increased reliance on medication and contributing to the rise of antibiotic-resistant bacteria.

However, my intention is not to criticize the beef industry as a whole. It is important to acknowledge that researchers in the region, including the ethnologist Temple Grandin, have made significant contributions to improving livestock conditions and animal welfare. Rather, my artistic project emerges from a sense of astonishment at the sheer scale of these operations.

This concentration of economic activity weakens community structures, contributing to the decline of family-run and small-scale operations. Over time, the number of cattle producers has diminished, as have ranches across the country. At the same time, the meat processing industry has undergone further consolidation, placing market control in the hands of a very limited number of actors. This centralization of power, often linked to foreign interests, undermines local producers and raises broader concerns about the autonomy and resilience of the food system. These corporations are not confined to the United States; the same actors operate elsewhere, deploying similar strategies and owning processing plants and slaughterhouses across Europe. These agribusiness giants contribute to the deterioration of our food systems and are among the driving forces behind the European Union–Mercosur agreement. Increasingly, it becomes clear that food is not merely an economic issue, but one that directly relates to food security and broader questions of sovereignty.

In the distance, I can hear the incessant noise of cattle trucks — infernal machines that never sleep. Cattle herds stretch to the horizon, shrouded in clouds of dust. The air here is barely breathable, loaded with particulate matter and ammonia. Dead cows are scattered across the ground. They are collected and removed daily to prevent the rest of the livestock becoming contaminated. Such losses are probably not considered out of the ordinary unless they have a negative impact on businesses’ profit margins. Standing before these cattle carcasses, I contemplate this accountant’s mindset and the commonplace nature of this death. The animal’s eyes are still unclouded, even though its life has just ended. These carcasses are not usually displayed in broad daylight. I am revealing what has been stolen from public view: the systemic abuse of sentient beings and of life itself. We can choose to live in silence, but livestock has no such choice.

Drawing inspiration from open-rescue activists and undercover investigations into industrial farming, I am shining a light on what is deliberately kept from public view. Rather than viewing them with indifference, I invite viewers to approach them with reverence and contemplation. These post-mortem photographs are the only testimony these fallen creatures will ever have, granting them deliverance through the image itself. Through the process of ’embalmment’ via the lens, I present each animal as a complete being in its own right — one that deserves our attention and respect — rather than as mere merchandise.