Apian

The Ministry of Bees is responsible for the relationship between humans and all bee species. It is tasked by bees to safeguard the history of this age-old relationship, and does so by producing polymorphous ethnographies. These ethnographies combine various media, including video, sound, photography, and writing in order to represent the world of bees to humans and promote Socialist Beekeeping practices. The Ministry aims to establish a framework for the future of this relationship in the context of climate breakdown – a future free from extractive practices and grounded in ancestral knowledge.

Ministerial Responsibilities

• Human-Bee relationships
• Beekeeping practices
• Apian technology
• Apian mythology

The Ministry’s story and spirit

In the face of our political institutions failing to take concrete action towards the decline of bees and other insect populations worldwide (1), I decided to create Apian, a self-proclaimed Ministry of Bees, in 2014. I borrowed apian from Juan Antonio Ramirez, who used it extensively in his essay The Beehive Metaphor (2000). Apian is an adjective that defines something which relates to the world of bees – from architecture to behaviour, basically as broad as one’s imagination can be. The addition of the Ministry of Bees came a bit later and was motivated by the ideas behind the word ministry itself.(2) Connoting power, a ministry is a governmental institution that could, in theory, change something. To me, it seemed more feasible to act under a Ministry rather than a studio. Of course, this is a semantic dispute, but words matter. So to be clear, Apian does not aim to be a metaphorical entity – quite the contrary. It rather aims to fight for the material condition of this age-old relationship, strengthening it in collaboration with bees, beekeepers and other bee lovers.

Taking matters into its own hands, the Ministry of Bees is responsible for the relationship between humans and all bee species.(3) It is tasked by bees to safeguard the history of this age-old relationship, and does so by producing polymorphous ethnographies. These ethnographies combine various media, including video, sound, photography, and writing, in order to represent the world of bees to humans and promote Socialist Beekeeping practices. The Ministry aims to establish a framework for the present and future of this relationship in the context of climate breakdown – a future free from extractive practices and grounded in ancestral knowledge.

So far, the Ministry’s research has primarily focused on Western Europe.(4) However, this focus does not mean that it aims to be Eurocentric. It is first a conscious decision to avoid perpetuating anthropological colonial legacies, and instead imagine non-extractive forms of producing knowledge, especially when it comes to working away from home. Non-Eurocentric knowledge aims to be gathered by inviting like-minded bee lovers to contribute to, or join, the Ministry, rather than extracting it myself. This special issue is thus a call for exactly that – to invite colleagues from around the planet to collaborate and work with the Ministry. Join us! We demand ethical futures for bees and humans all over the planet. Socialist Beekeeping now!

Whereas Apian was founded and is still mainly operated by me, Aladin Borioli, the use of an alias aims to reveal the Ministry’s inherent collaborative face and encourage future exchange. As I said above, I didn’t want to create a studio; Apian is in the process of becoming an institution, which ultimately aims to function without me. However, I wanted to give a brief introduction of myself here as the Ministry draws from personal and tangible experiences. I was born and raised in the French-speaking countryside of Switzerland in the late ’80s. I learnt beekeeping from my grandfather as a teenager (fig. i). Since then, I’ve continued to keep bees out of passion (yes, I do love bees) (5) and as a research method. Meanwhile, I have a background in visual communication (graphic design and photography), anthropology, and bits and bobs of knowledge in critical philosophy. Today, as a visual anthropologist, artist, and beekeeper, I work as a minister for the Ministry of Bees.

Drawing from this background, the Ministry uses an odd kit of methods which mixes an anthropological approach – tainted by philosophical inputs – with the practice of art and beekeeping. Concretely, that means conducting interviews with beekeepers, bee scholars, and artists – basically anyone with shared sensibilities towards bees. The Ministry also uses methods such as participant observation, elicitation sessions, and collaborative workshops. At the heart of the Ministry’s methods is a form of collaborative ethnography.(6) Collaborative ethnography transforms fieldwork into a space of co-imagination, allowing for the co-production of knowledge, bridging the gap between academic research and lived experience.

Meanwhile, each encounter is also an invitation to join the Ministry, as an attempt to go beyond collaboration. Rather than studying communities, the Ministry aims to build a community itself – a planetary socialist hive. So far, it has worked with a range of friends and colleagues, including academics, beekeepers, artists, and activists. I’ll mention just a few: the visual anthropologist Ellen Lapper; the musician and artist Laurent Güdel; the bee-scholars Dorothea Brückner, Randolf Menzel, and Nicolas Césard; the artist and graphic designer Nicolas Polli, who also co-publishes Apian Gazette via Ciao Press; and, of course, thousands of bees (even though the collaboration with bees is pretty asymmetrical, to say the least).

When it comes to its economy, a bit like its methods, The Ministry has been built from various pots of money. A large chunk has come from artistic grants; again, to only mention a few, the Ministry has been supported by Pro Helvetia, La Becque, EyeBeam, Images Vevey, C/O Berlin, The CAIRN, Salt Gallery, and more. Alongside this, personal investments (side jobs and savings) and academic support (currently by the University of Amsterdam via a PhD position) continue to fund various activities and projects. Most of the money generated by exhibitions, selling publications, and so on, circulates back into the Ministry’s economy – when it’s not being used to pay my rent.

The polymorphous ethnographies produced by the Ministry are at the same time autonomous and related to one another. Each ethnography works as a research unit tackling a specific question. Once reunited, these ethnographies assemble a narrative universe which explores The Ministry’s meta question: the age-old human-bee relationship. Here I aim to outline a few of these ethnographies, offering an overview of The Ministry’s activities over the past ten years.

I want to start with Hives, 2400 B.C.E. – 1852 C.E – a visual history of the beehive. In 1852, the modern beehive was patented. Its subsequent success largely eliminated diversity in beehive design and led to the obsolescence of a varied history of alternative beekeeping techniques. While this is not Apian’s first work, it is a clear example of the Ministry’s approach. Through an array of archival images and an essay co-written with Ellen Lapper, this visual ethnography uncovers that forgotten history, offering a renewed perspective that challenges conventional historical linear narratives, creating a common ground for future beehive research.

Taking a path towards sound, another example of the Ministry’s outputs is Hiss – a sonic ethnography which looks into listening practices in beekeeping. Made in collaboration with the Moroccan beekeeper Souaf Hassan and the Swiss musician Laurent Güdel, the twenty-nine-minute piece navigates through the acoustic space of Hassan’s apiary. Recorded near Inzerki, Morocco – home of the world’s largest migratory apiary – Hiss centres on Hassan’s modest congregation of bee organisms, hived in both traditional and modern beehives. Twenty-two years of practice has provided Hassan with listening abilities to analyse specific sonic cues, allowing him to monitor and predict bee behaviour. Building upon a conversation which discusses these skills, Hiss interweaves recordings of honeybees with Güdel’s electronic music. The result momentarily unites an array of acoustic communities into a polyphonic interspecies composition.

Moving now to the Internet, the Intimacy Machine (www.intimacy-machine.net) is an online DIY academic journal publishing research on all bee species worldwide. Contrary to conventional bee journals, the Intimacy Machine focuses on multimodal knowledge and alternative forms of knowledge distribution and production. Made of multiple layers, the platform – designed in collaboration with Studio Harris Blondman – shapes the visitor’s epistemic encounter with bees, starting with the multimodal content, followed by a summary of the original articles, and links to their sources. By shedding new light on existing research through its focus on the multimodality of knowledge, the Intimacy Machine brings academic bee research to a broader audience.

Films are also a central part of the Ministry’s productions. CH05 Drugs, for example, illustrates the data from an academic research study on the effect of prolonged exposure to non-lethal doses of neonicotinoid pesticides on honeybees.(7) Such pesticides kill insects deemed harmful by targeting their nervous systems. And while this study only focuses on honeybees, it is essential to stress that these chemicals have similar effects on a wide range of insects – including bumblebees, solitary bees, and other pollinators. Using a 3D model created by Nephilia, the film translates the study’s result into moving images, reaching an audience beyond academic walls.

Evident in Hives and the Intimacy Machine’s work, the Ministry has caught the so-called archive fever, an approach which culminates in Apian Index – the Ministry’s hidden archive. Built as part of Apian’s website, Apian Index regroups all the material gathered and produced by Apian. In short, it’s the Ministry’s data set and source of inspiration (hit key i, it’s not that well hidden).

So far, the Ministry has primarily focused on the common honeybee, but it is ultimately responsible for all bee species. Whereas honeybees are also at risk, they are being well looked after through the love of many keepers around the world. However, this isn’t the case for all bee species. The threats our bees are facing in apiaries – the impact of pesticides and especially, neonicotinoids, the spread of various diseases (Varroa mites amongst others), and the destruction of food sources and habitats – are exacerbated when it comes to wild and solitary bees. Let’s be clear: we know the origin of these threats. They stem directly from the extractive and destructive processes brought by capitalism, and the only option is to end this system as soon as possible.

In this context, Apian’s mission is to think about alternative beekeeping practices in alliance with bees and other bee lovers – an approach the Ministry calls Socialist Beekeeping. Socialist Beekeeping practices centre all bee species, while situating beekeeping within the context (local and global) it is practised. Global contexts such as climate breakdown caused by fosil capital, fascists seizing power, genocides and other ongoing deadly politics cannot be ignored. And while keeping bees can be a form of resistance in specific contexts, for example in the Palestinian Occupied Territories (8), how and where we do it matters. At the same time, beekeeping demands technodiversity and localised practices; different climates and political systems create varied practices. Socialist Beekeeping is thus situated, internationalist, and ethical, putting all bees at the forefront of its practices.(10)

Join us! To get in touch, please email: aladin@apian.ch