The Logic of Pastoralism at the Stedelijk: When It’s No Longer Clear Who Led Whom

The Logic of Pastoralism at the Stedelijk: When It’s No Longer Clear Who Led Whom

7/7/2025
7 min
Domesticated sheep lost the ability to shed their wool. Whether this loss was triggered by domestication, or whether humans instead developed shearing tools in response to the sheep’s own evolutionary path, has long since dissolved in the 11,000-year trajectory of their relationship. By speculating on both scenarios simultaneously, Oltre Terra opens a space of symbiosis between the natural history museum and the design museum. In doing so, it offers the possibility of a more complex reflection on domestication as a means of material production — grounded in the conviction that material culture and biological evolution are conceptually separated far too often. But how can one shear and caress at the same time?

The exhibition, originally commissioned by the Museum of Design and Architecture in Oslo, is now restaged at Amsterdam’s Stedelijk Museum. The project delves into the history, ecology, and global dynamics of wool extraction and production, tracing its connection to the biological evolution of sheep. Materials, techniques, and living beings are presented side by side within the installation, as if collectively confronting contemporary modes of categorization that separate human from animal, and product from biological matter. Instead of providing direct answers to the enormous surplus of unused European wool, the exhibition—through the presentation of materials, objects, and technologies within a multidisciplinary framework—attempts to dissect the pivotal moment of domestication.

The exhibition title Oltre Terra derives from the etymology of “transhumance” (across, Italian oltre) and “humus” (soil, Italian terra). It describes the seasonal migration of livestock between pastures — similarly, the notion of “crossing pastures” reflects the transdisciplinary approach of the exhibition, which was developed in collaboration with designers, artists, anthropologists, curators, shepherds, and farmers. While humans shaped sheep through domestication, sheep profoundly influenced human history by providing wool — the boundary between tamer and tamed remains constantly in flux. The exhibition explores the layered bonds between humans and sheep, addressing the economic and ethical implications of sourcing materials from living beings.

At first glance, the installation resembles a strictly encyclopedic space: display cases with shearing scissors and stuffed sheep models intersect with 19th-century paintings and audiovisual works. This foundation, tinged with a sense of nostalgia, is juxtaposed with a colder contemporary perspective on wool as a material. Backlit photographs of textile piles, production certificates, and information on Merino breeding would already serve as sufficient explanation. Among the exhibits, however, is also a carpet made from four different wool fibers extracted from twelve Italian sheep breeds — wool usually discarded for its roughness. By designing the carpet, the authors sought to demonstrate how such coarse fibers can still be used for products not in direct contact with the skin. Interventions of this kind are characteristic of the design duo Formafantasma and represent their specific contribution to the curatorial approach, which distinguishes the exhibition from standard gallery or museum practices.

The key strength of the installation lies in its logical structure coupled with an openness that resists instruction, allowing visitors to discover connections through the visual interplay of objects. The central point of the seemingly non-hierarchical arrangement is a video created by the exhibition’s authors together with artist Joanna Piotrowska. The film Tactile Afferents focuses on the sensory experience of sheep and wool, “exploring the ways in which humans have interacted with sheep over time.” It works with touch and gestures as primary forms of communication between actors in this production chain — humans and sheep — who cannot connect verbally. The video forms the soft core of the exhibition, where persuasion passes through the hands. In doing so, the authors acknowledge the role of touch in understanding both museum display and material production.

The contrast between rough and fine is confidently staged among the exhibits as the logic of black and white. Yet, as in all more complex situations, in questions of wool production the black-and-white scheme inevitably blurs. Local sheep’s wool is a material of value, moreover a renewable resource, though one still largely underused. Merino and mohair fibers have flooded the clothing market due to their unique properties — properties absent in most European wools. Czech wool is burned, buried, or at best used for insulation. The Oltre Terra project, through its interdisciplinary approach, offers a response to the still uncertain role of museums in reflecting present-day crises. It demonstrates how a socio-cultural framework can contextualize the use of resources whose end points often remain invisible, and proposes the museum as a space for reflection. Does the pattern of human–sheep relations seep into the contemporary production chain? Or have we lost the chance to reach for a caress?