Tate Modern | Past Exhibitions | The Unilever Series: Olafur Eliasson

HAVE YOU TALKED ABOUT TALKING ABOUT THE WEATHER TODAY?



	16 October 2003 - 21 March 2004 Turbine Hall, Tate Modern FREE

Weather stories

The weather is always about an expectation of change. In the tumultuous 1960s in the then West Germany, there appeared a thought-provoking poster that signalled a need to act upon the status quo. It read 'Alle Reden von Wetter, Wir nicht'. Translated, 'everyone talks about the weather, we don't'.

This poster featured the triple portraits of Marx, Lenin and Stalin on a red background. The thing about the weather is that it always disappoints.

Submitted online by Paul, Norway, 17 October 2003

The bolt passed ‘from the pole into his hand and out through his feet’.

the tops of the tallest trees lit up like matchsticks as the whirls engulfed them

the fish had been lifted by a tornado ‘from an ornamental pond in a nearby garden’

The telephone receiver was instantly burnt out and the woman hurled back into a chair.

The disc of the object was about the apparent size of a full moon

they heard a sound like a long ‘sizzling crack’ – like bubbles bursting in a frying pan

The twister sucked up roof tiles ... even a shed in a 15-second orgy of destruction.

The discharge was wide and of tremendous length ... seemed to come from ... Brighton

she ... felt a distinct sensation in one leg as if it had taken fire.

it seemed to pass through the window glass as if this ... did not exist

Suddenly there were clouds in the distance

...everyone talks about the weather, we don't

Eventually we chipped the pasta out and thawed it

It was one of the most amazing feelings ever, I could have died

A blood-red sun was going down in a dark purple sky

He awoke early one morning... surrounded by the disembodied heads of cows

A yellow disc had started to rise from the sea

As I was running it suddenly got really hot and everything went hazy

People chased it across the field and over the campsite

Suddenly there was a rustling sound coming from the field...

Their translator explained that no one from the group had ever seen snow before

I found myself looking straight into the eye of a huge shark

It was a beautiful sight of swirling gold

Charging forward, respecting nothing, it passed under our feet. I felt the surge

Hailstones the size of snooker balls rained down for 10 minutes solid

...looking down at the city I realised that there was suddenly a storm breaking...

Millions of sparks rained down to the earth

He piled then squashed the snow, got out his saw and chopped it up

As I reached down to clasp the neck of the bottle, a bolt of lightning flashed between my fingers

I desperately clung to the jagged teeth-like rocks, so that I would not get sucked away into the sky

To my alarm the waters, trapped in the valley, then rose on our side and engulfed the road

there were two weathersuns to bee seen over the winterchilly Stockholm

we looked up at the heavy grey sky dripping all around us and began to laugh

I had experienced one of the most powerful forces of nature

My sister told us that the bubbles were witches

The fuses for the cameras and lights blew and everyone stood there open mouthed.

The twists reached up to a thin, dark finger that hooked down from the cloudbase.

In a day crowded with many things to do I found a drop of rain lost in a sunny day