Light Out
Ryan Board on art, ecology, and the radical power of switching off
In an era of constant illumination, British Maltese artist Ryan Board asks what might be revealed if we chose darkness instead. Working for more than two decades at the intersection of art, ecology and systems thinking, Board’s forthcoming five-year project, LIGHT OUT, set to debut in Malta in 2026, proposes a radical yet poetic gesture: an entire nation switching off its lights in unison, captured from space. In this conversation with VAMP, he reflects on the evolution of his practice and why darkness, scale and uncertainty have become central to his work.
For more than two decades, British Maltese artist and experiential designer Ryan Board has worked at the intersection of art, ecology and systems thinking. His upcoming five-year project, LIGHT OUT, set to debut in Malta in 2026, poses a deceptively simple question: what would happen if an entire nation switched off its lights at the same moment?
In this candid conversation, the Board reflects on the evolution of his practice, the shift from spectacle to meaning, and why darkness, both literal and metaphorical, may be one of the most powerful materials an artist can work with today.
Q: You have spent years exploring art, ecology and perception. What first drew you toward systems and the natural world?
Over the last twenty-plus years working in the arts, I watched a shift from meaning toward spectacle. Experiences became visitor attractions. Museums, exhibitions, public art, everything leaned heavily into numbers, footfall, engagement and metrics. Postmodernism was fading, and installations offering immersive satisfaction became dominant.
I found myself right in the middle of that shift. Curators were inviting experiential work, corporations wanted the same energy for launches and campaigns, and I was designing these environments, often with generous budgets, that allowed ideas to exist in three dimensions. It was creatively freeing for a while.
But eventually, I became cynical. Too much energy was being spent creating experiences that existed purely to generate revenue or justify funding. Somewhere along the way, depth was lost. I reached a point of discomfort, possibly linked to becoming a parent, where I began searching for meaning beyond spectacle.
Stepping away from that hyper-speed environment allowed me to really look at the world, and what I saw was deeply troubling: ecological collapse, systemic dysfunction, cultural exhaustion. I started asking how the kind of deep creativity I had developed could be redeployed toward confronting these issues, not with solutions, but with exploration. That shift pulled me naturally toward ecology and systems thinking.
Q: Your work often operates at the scale of landscapes or even nations. Why does that scale appeal to you?
I think of my projects as propositions rather than solutions. Science does not always have permission to explore the irrational, but art does. It can hold space for ideas that do not yet make sense, that feel audacious or impractical.
We live in a time where ambition is often viewed with suspicion. Big ideas are dismissed as unrealistic or indulgent, especially in institutional or corporate environments driven by deliverables and timelines. I am interested in resisting that. I want to start with pure vision, without allowing fear or cultural limitation to crush it early.
Many of the issues we face today exist because visionary thinking gets shut down too soon. The systems we live in do not support audacity unless it is profitable. I am comfortable leaning into that perceived profanity of big thinking, a childlike way of imagining that is beaten out of us early, and I think we desperately need it back.
Q: Your work blurs boundaries between art, science and philosophy. How do you define yourself?
I do not, at least not easily. Labels are cultural tools for organisation, but they can be destructive. I have spent much of my life dodging dropdown menus: artist, designer, researcher. None quite fit.
What I do now feels closest to deep artistic research. It is exploratory, intuitive and unconfined by outcomes. All artists are researchers, but I am interested in spaces where creativity meets inquiry without the pressure of resolution. That is where I am most grounded.
Q: LIGHT OUT approaches light pollution as both ecological and cultural. What led you to darkness as material?
This project began as a childhood vision, thinking about Earth floating in space, signalling something outward. I was fascinated by the idea of a collective human gesture visible from beyond our planet. Eventually, that question narrowed: could an entire nation synchronise an action, turning lights off, that could be seen from space? Only later did I begin seriously researching light pollution and realise how under-discussed yet destructive it is.
Unlike other pollutants, light pollution stops instantly when the source is switched off. There is no residue, which makes it uniquely powerful and symbolic. It is not about cleanup, it is about coordination, awareness and culture.
Darkness also functions like reverse graffiti, removing something reveals presence. There is something deeply calming and primitive about going dark, despite our cultural fear of it. Using nothingness as form is incredibly compelling.
Q: How have institutions and policymakers responded so far?
We are still early in the process, but the most common response has been a lack of awareness. Light pollution simply is not on many radars yet.
Engaging Maltese institutions, particularly the Arts Council, has been challenging but illuminating. They are not structured to support ambitious projects that do not produce measurable outcomes. Research-based art, especially when the result is nothingness, is difficult to frame.
If you want, I can also go through and make the whole interview read even smoother, combining some sentences and trimming repeated phrases, while keeping the interview tone intact. That would make it more magazine-ready. Do you want me to do that?
Still, we found a way forward. The first phase is now funded, and that dialogue, documenting institutional resistance and adaptation, has become part of the work itself.
Q: How do you balance poetic vision with logistical complexity?
Vision is everything. It is the emotional anchor. When the vision is clear, people can tolerate complexity.
The core idea of LIGHT OUT is incredibly simple: Malta switches off its lights in one synchronised moment, captured from the International Space Station. Most people can imagine it instantly. That simplicity allows space for complexity underneath.
The project involves energy providers, aviation authorities, safety regulations, communities, even space agencies, and that is why it is a five-year journey. The process, engagement, friction and discovery is as important as the event itself.
Malta’s scale makes it uniquely suited to this experiment. It could become a model for how small nations contribute meaningfully to global ecological discourse.
Q: What might people rediscover when the lights go out?
The night sky, first and foremost. Light pollution has severed our connection to the cosmos. Our ancestors navigated by stars and built belief systems around them. Today, we are consumed by immediate noise.
Beyond that, there is the possibility of collective awareness. Whether people participate or not, it is a shared moment, a national signal, and perhaps a reminder of our place within something vast and unknowable.
Q: Is LIGHT OUT also about consumption and attention?
Absolutely. Seen from space, artificial light reveals a mechanical human footprint, energy extracted, processed and burned to illuminate excess. It is profoundly visible.
This visibility invites reflection. What do we consume, why, and at what cost? It is not an accusation, it is an invitation to awareness.
Q: If you could switch off one light in the world, literal or metaphorical, what would it be?
Fear. Fear once served survival, but today it fuels conflict, inequality and division. It is intellectualised, institutionalised and incredibly destructive.
If we could turn that down, even slightly, it might be the most transformative act of all.
LIGHT OUT will debut in Malta with an opening exhibition, scheduled for May 2026, introducing the five-year project, and a series of public forum events across the country. This first phase is now supported by Arts Council Malta, with additional partners.
The project is developed in collaboration with Art Hall, with photographic documentation by Lisa Attard, and curatorial and research assistance by Lola Bonnici.
More information is available at www.b-ard.com
