What does the future hold? Revisiting the Tarot deck in contemporary art

Natalie Bradbury

What does the future hold? Natalie Bradbury studies the rise of interest in tarot among contemporary artists over the last few years.

To say these are uncertain times is an understatement. The UK is in the process of transitioning out of the EU, but discussions around a deal appear to have reached a stalemate. I started writing this article in May. Now in June, we’re still in a state of ‘lockdown’ imposed by the government in response to the global coronavirus pandemic. It’s impossible to know what the future will look like and if, and when, life will return to normal. We’re in a place that few could have predicted at the start of the year and things are changing so fast that, by the time you read this, the situation may be completely different again.

When everything is in flux and existing ways of doing things feel increasingly inadequate, it’s natural to look for different sources of meaning. One recent trend in contemporary art, which feels particularly pertinent now, is the use of the tarot deck to make new connections and look for alternative perspectives on and solutions to personal and societal problems.

In response to lockdown, the London-based artist John Walter invited members of the public to book virtual tarot readings via Skype, providing a forum for discussion and social interaction during a period of sudden and dramatically heightened isolation and anxiety. For the readings, Walter used cards initially presented as part of his 2015 exhibition Alien Sex Club, which took place in London and Liverpool. His playful, maximalist work explores scientific concepts, such as the virology of HIV (a longstanding interest), alongside cultural narratives surrounding health and sexuality. As an artist who relishes face-to-face engagement with audiences, these readings offered those lucky enough to get a slot an intimacy and relatability noticeably lacking in much of the streamed content broadcast by cultural institutions during lockdown.

Although the tarot has been readily adapted to modern platforms such as these, its origins date back to medieval times. Used variously since as playing cards and a tool for divination (predicting the future), the best-known set today is the ornate Rider Waite deck, illustrated by the artist Pamela Colman Smith and published in 1909. But numerous other artists and writers have developed their own customised versions over the years, drawn both to the tarot’s mystical symbolism and its creative potential.

Some notable contemporary examples include Suzanne Treister’s sprawling project Hexen 2.0 (2009-2011), which fused politics with popular culture to imagine utopian and dystopian futures, weaving complex webs of historic, scientific and technological developments across a set of hyper-detailed, vividly coloured tarot cards.

More recently, the art collective Plastique Fantastique has drawn connections between tarot and meme culture, exploring technology and storytelling through alternative tarot readings. Their take on the tarot combines a set of paper cards with installations and performances. In 2017, I watched them bring a show of mysterious, uncanny paintings by Lindsey Bull to life at Castlefield Gallery in Manchester. Focusing on the figure of the trickster, they animated the ‘Hanging Man’ tarot card through an intense, irreverent performance sound-tracked by the song ‘Traitor’ by Motörhead. (The performance was later reactivated in Shonky, a touring show curated by Walter in 2017-18.)

Tarot imagery holds an ongoing fascination for Plastique Fantastique. In this age of fake news and increasingly blurred boundaries between fact and fiction, they use tarot to read contemporary culture anew. Shown most recently by JGM Gallery in London as part of The Collector’s Room (a group exhibition that opened in March and can be seen online via JGM’s ‘Viewing Rooms’ platform and Instagram), the collective’s alternative tarot cards delve into the weirder corners of the internet, from virtual worlds to avatars and alternative realities.

Tarot clearly has a strong countercultural kudos and appeal. For an outsider, though, the rules can seem complicated and arcane. I asked artist Bethan Hamilton, who is currently developing a custom deck of her own, to explain it to me. Over Skype, from her studio in East Sussex, she explains that the tarot deck consists of 78 cards, divided into major and minor arcana. These cards play host to a cast of figures, including kings, queens, knights, fools and magicians. Each character opens a portal to potential layers of meaning, which change depending on the combination and arrangement of the cards drawn. A card might be read one way but upend it and its meaning might be reversed.

Hamilton tells me that she will typically draw a spread of eight cards and pull three at a time. Each card is meant to answer a specific question. For example, Hamilton might ask:

What have I learned since my last reading? 

What should my next goals be? 

How do I make those goals happen? 

Alternatively, she might choose to pull a single card, as “a little bit of a pick-me-up and a way of gaining understanding about a situation.”

Using the Rider Waite deck as her basis, Hamilton is creating new imagery to re-invent the traditional symbolism of each card. She is working her way through drawing each of the 78 major and minor arcana, with a view to printing a test deck funded by a Kickstarter campaign later this year. With her trademark, hyper-detailed pencil drawing style, Hamilton is picking out key elements of each card, piecing together her own design from a jigsaw of images she has found online.

Holding a couple up to the camera, she talks me through the cards she has finished to date. As a feminist, she was immediately drawn to the Queen of Swords, a character long connected with infertility and considered a harsh, unforgiving authority figure. Hamilton tells me she is “stern, confident, draws boundaries and shows impartial judgment” – characteristics not traditionally identified with women. The Queen of Swords in the Rider Waite deck is depicted side-on, atop a throne. In Hamilton’s, she is buxom and warrior-like. She faces boldly forwards, standing to attention, sword raised towards her head, subverting conventional ideas of femininity. Her face is also obscured by a large moth, questioning notions of what is beautiful and highlighting the limitations of surface appearances.

The lunar phases run down the centre of another card, The Moon, framed on one side by a wolf and on the other by a dog. Both animals balance as if on a trapeze, striking a middle ground between selfishness (associated with the wolf) and a desire to please (the dog). I relate to this card; I’m reminded of challenges which continue to affect women disproportionately, such as the tension between family and career and balancing self-care with care for others. Ultimately, Hamilton hopes that her cards will be functional and useful, as well as beautiful objects.

If tarot is often deeply personal, the Scottish artist Katie Anderson is turning this on its head. Before lockdown forced a pause on her project, Anderson was undertaking a residency with the socially engaged arts organisation Art Gene in the Cumbrian coastal town of Barrow-in-Furness.

During visits to the town in late 2019 and early 2020, Anderson developed a tarot deck asking players to imagine different futures for Barrow. She found tarot provided a way to map the places she was coming across and to get involved in local dialogue. “Tarot is usually very individual, but I am making it more collective and asking people to think about communal questions relating to the future of Barrow,” she tells me from her home in Dumfries and Galloway.

Barrow has more challenges than most places in the UK. It has high levels of poverty and large numbers of vulnerable people. Its Covid-19 infection rate is the highest in the country. Geographically isolated, its economy and townscape are dominated by the defence company BAE Systems, and it has a large population of transient workers. It’s also in a precarious position due to climate change. However, as Anderson has experienced first-hand, it retains a strong sense of independence, the quality of its natural assets is ranked as the highest in the country, it’s full of interesting wildlife and nature, and it has a really active community.

Eschewing the ornateness of some tarot decks, Anderson has depicted familiar and recognisable Barrow sights and places in basic line drawings. Whereas in traditional tarot decks, the minor arcana cards are divided into four suits – cups, pentacles, swords and wands – Anderson’s is divided into four houses: Industry, Community, Culture, and Environment. One card from the Community set, for example, is represented by a loaf of bread from local bakery Peace & Loaf, accompanied by simple word prompts: Entrepreneur, Local, Craft, Food Systems, Community Space. Another card depicts the ferry to Piel Island – one of the islands which constitute Barrow’s unique geography.

Setting up stall in the market hall and offering readings, Anderson has used her custom deck to prompt conversations with people about subjects they may not otherwise have discussed. She invited participants to pick one card from each category as a starting point. “It’s difficult to ask, ‘What does the future look like?’,” she says. “It’s such a big question. People switch off, like you’re asking, ‘will we have flying cars?’” She has noticed that “people get stuck on questions like, ‘will there be industries in the future to provide people in Barrow with jobs?’ and ‘will we have a town centre?’.”

Anderson’s overarching goal, however, is to help people connect these local conversations with a bigger picture and link their own lives with broader social issues such as climate change and the future of food production. When it’s safe to do so, Anderson will resume tarot conversations in a range of public spaces around Barrow. In the meantime, the cards are also available as an online deck and digital resource.

Despite all my research and the conversations I’ve had, I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface of tarot’s mysteries and the myriad ways of reading the cards. But I have begun to understand its appeal to artists as a creative tool. At a basic level, tarot decks are objects of novelty and beauty. Whatever form they take they share an archaic language of forms and symbols which lends itself to a variety of interpretations and reinventions. The cards’ real power, though, comes from our interaction with them. Whilst tarot is often seen either as a bit of light-hearted fun or mysticism, it can be deeply political. It can enable us to question, interpret and understand the culture and values of the society we’re in. It provides space for critique and narratives that run counter to dominant ideologies. Read in combination, tarot cards can juxtapose seemingly disparate meanings or concepts, giving both personal and social insights.

Tarot can help artists – and those of us who just need a bit of direction – to see a situation in a different light. It can offer new perspectives and remind us of the potential for things to turn out in different ways. At the same time, it can help us feel better connected, not just to our own inner lives and thought processes but to other people and bigger contexts beyond our everyday range of experiences. But perhaps most importantly, I’ve realised, tarot doesn’t just tell us about the future, it also has the potential to connect us with the past and illuminate our present situation.

See more of Suzanne Treister’s HEXEN2.0 at www.suzannetreister.net/HEXEN2/HEXEN_2.html. Follow Plastique Fantastique @plastique_fantastique. Explore John Walter’s tarot cards at http://www.aliensexclub.com/. A new set of tarot cards, Lockdown Tarot, will be exhibited at Plymouth Art Weekender from 25-27 September: https://plymouthartweekender.com/. Keep up-to-date with Bethan Hamilton’s tarot deck on Instagram @bethan.hamilton and support her Kickstarted campaign here. Explore the Barrow Tarot at https://barrow-tarot.now.sh. An exhibition presenting outcomes from Anderson’s project was due to take place in April. Check rescheduled dates at www.art-gene.co.uk/.