Inside a former slaughterhouse on New Providence, artists build structures fifteen feet high — not from steel or stone, but from cardboard, metal, and colored felt paper. This is the raw material of Junkanoo, and it’s also a metaphor for how Bahamian culture has long operated: transforming the discarded, the salvaged, the humble into something monumental.
On a small island nation with a population of roughly 400,000, the impulse to make something from almost nothing runs deep. It shows up in the annual Junkanoo parades, where elaborate floats built from scrap materials compete for prestige. It surfaces in contemporary art fairs, where Bahamian artists critique the very tourism economy that funds their work. And it extends underwater, where sculptures designed to become artificial reefs are seeded with coral fragments. What unites these practices is not just resourcefulness, but a deliberate cultural logic: scarcity is not a limitation to be overcome, but a condition to be worked with.
This article traces that thread through four distinct expressions — Junkanoo, the FUZE art fair, the salvaged sails of John Beadle, and the underwater sculpture garden off New Providence — and asks what they reveal about Bahamian creativity, identity, and the politics of cultural production.
The Bahamian art of making something from almost nothing is not a folk tradition of “making do.” It’s a conscious aesthetic and cultural practice with roots in the late 18th-century experience of enslaved Africans, evolving today into a sophisticated contemporary art scene that recently earned a spot at the Venice Biennale. But calling it “resourcefulness” risks flattening the political dimension: these practices also push back against the tourist gaze, asserting that Bahamian culture is not just sun, sand, and sea.
| Practice | Primary material | Cultural function | Current status |
|---|---|---|---|
| Junkanoo | Cardboard, felt paper, metal, salvaged items | Annual carnival, community identity, social hierarchy | UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage (2023) |
| FUZE Art Fair | Contemporary art across media | Regional art market, cultural diplomacy, youth education | Third edition held 2025 at Baha Mar |
| John Beadle’s sails | Salvaged Haitian migrant boat sails | Memorial, migration narrative, transnational dialogue | Selected for 2026 Venice Biennale |
| Underwater Sculpture Garden | Marine-grade pH-neutral concrete | Coral restoration, ocean literacy, tourism diversion | Ongoing, with school field trips |
Each of these practices transforms materials that others might discard — cardboard, felt paper, salvaged sails, concrete — into works of cultural and ecological significance. But the transformation is never just about the object.
Junkanoo: The original blueprint
Junkanoo is the most visible expression of this aesthetic. Every year, Bahamians spend months in “shacks” — community workshops that are often repurposed buildings — constructing floats and costumes from cardboard, colored felt paper, and scrap metal. The result is a parade of towering structures, some shaped like Hindu temples, teddy bears, or hearts, that move through the streets of Nassau on Boxing Day and New Year’s Day. The Document Journal reported that one teddy bear float was a dedication to the artist’s mother, while outside the shack, the same designer is considered a dangerous, feared person — a reminder that Junkanoo’s social hierarchy grants creative people respect regardless of their day job.
The practice traces to the late 18th century, when enslaved Africans in the Bahamas were granted a brief Christmas respite to celebrate through music and masquerade. That origin story is well documented, though scholars continue to debate the precise mix of African cultural retentions — from West African masquerade traditions to the Jonkonnu festival of Jamaica — that shaped it. What is not debated is the material logic: denied access to expensive goods, Junkanoo artists learned to make spectacle from what was at hand.
If you visit Nassau during Junkanoo season, the best way to see the work in progress is to visit a Junkanoo shack. Many are open to visitors in the weeks leading up to Boxing Day, though you’ll need to ask locally or arrange through a tour operator. Bring cash for small donations to the group — this is how they buy materials.
In 2023, UNESCO recognized Junkanoo as Intangible Cultural Heritage, a designation that acknowledges its cultural significance but also raises unresolved questions about how institutional recognition changes grassroots practice. Some Junkanoo artists worry that the UNESCO label could lead to commercialization and a shift away from the community-based, volunteer-driven model that has sustained the tradition for centuries.
FUZE: A “second way” to encounter art
In 2025, the third edition of FUZE, a Caribbean art fair held at the Baha Mar resort in Nassau, took the theme “Harmony,” emphasizing collaboration across the region. The fair provided every booth free of charge — a rare model that reflects Baha Mar’s position as one of the Caribbean’s largest permanent art collections, curated by John Cox, the Executive Director of Art & Culture at Baha Mar. Cox, described by the Document Journal as a quiet architect of the region’s new cultural infrastructure, recalled his mentor Jackson Burnside’s prediction: “By the year 2020, more people will come to the Bahamas for its art and culture than for the sun, sand, and sea.”
Bahamian artist Lavar Munroe described FUZE as offering a “second way” for Bahamians to encounter art beyond Junkanoo. That phrasing matters. It acknowledges Junkanoo as the primary cultural frame for most Bahamians, while creating space for contemporary gallery art to coexist — not compete. The fair included galleries from Trinidad, Jamaica, Barbados, and the Cayman Islands, alongside Bahamian participants. Y Art Gallery from Trinidad, run by Yasmin Hadeed, and the National Gallery of Jamaica, represented by senior curator Monique Barnett-Davidson, both participated. Barnett-Davidson told the press that the fair offers “a microcosm view of what the Caribbean ecosystem is like,” including diaspora artists.
Throughout the festival, Bahamian schoolchildren were given tours of the fair — a deliberate effort to build a local audience that extends beyond the resort’s guests. Amanda Coulson, founder of Nassau’s TERN Gallery and former director of the National Art Gallery of the Bahamas, participated in FUZE and helped coordinate the upcoming Venice Biennale pavilion.
John Beadle’s sails: Migration as material
The late John Beadle’s work represents perhaps the most charged example of making something from almost nothing. Beadle collected sails from migrant boats that had crossed from Haiti to the Bahamas — vessels that carried people fleeing poverty and political instability, often at great risk. He transformed these sails into art objects that memorialize the journey, the loss, and the resilience of the migrants. The Document Journal reported that Beadle’s Haitian sails were salvaged from migrant boats crossing from Haiti to the Bahamas.
In 2026, Lavar Munroe will combine Beadle’s sails with Junkanoo costumes to create a site-specific work for the Venice Biennale — the first entirely Bahamian-led effort, involving a Bahamian curator, team, and production. Blue Curry framed the significance: “We’re creating a blueprint. The first pavilion was largely led by foreigners. This time it’s 100 percent Bahamian. We can do it ourselves, and we can excel at doing it.”
A common misconception is that the Venice Biennale pavilion is simply a national achievement. In fact, it’s a contested space: the previous Bahamian pavilion was led by foreign curators, and the shift to local leadership represents a deliberate decolonizing move within the art world. Not all Bahamians support the effort, and some question whether the Biennale — a European institution — is the right venue for Bahamian cultural expression.
The underwater sculpture garden: Living art
Off the southwest coast of New Providence, within the Sir Nicholas Nuttall Coral Reef Sculpture Garden, sits Lady of Coral, an underwater sculpture by Jason deCaires Taylor. She is the identical twin of Ocean Atlas, located in a wild meadow on the other side of the Atlantic. Both are built from marine-grade, pH-neutral materials designed to encourage coral colonization and provide shelter for fish and invertebrates. The garden is run by the Bahamas Reef Environment Educational Foundation (BREEF) and is located within the Southwest Marine Managed Area, off the coast of Clifton Heritage National Park, as reported by Caribbean Journal.
Casuarina McKinney-Lambert, BREEF’s executive director, described the sculptures as “living art, changing as corals and other marine life grow over their surfaces, and vulnerable to threats such as pollution and warming waters.” The garden functions as a living gallery, coral nursery, and open-air classroom. BREEF uses it to divert snorkelers and divers from fragile natural reefs and to support coral restoration through an adjacent coral nursery. Thousands of Bahamian students visit on school field trips for ocean literacy lessons. The garden also includes works by Bahamian artists Andret John and Willicey Tynes.
To visit the underwater sculpture garden, book a snorkel or dive trip through a Clifton Heritage National Park authorized operator. The best time is early morning, when the light angles through the water and visibility is highest. Bring a rash guard — the sun is intense even underwater — and avoid touching the sculptures, as the coral growth is fragile.
The underwater garden extends the logic of making something from almost nothing into the ecological realm. Here, the “almost nothing” is not scrap material but a degraded reef — a site of environmental loss. The sculptures become a substrate for regeneration, transforming a damaged ecosystem into a site of learning and beauty.
Context & comparison: Four approaches to transformation
These four practices share a material logic but diverge in audience, scale, and cultural function. The table below compares them across key dimensions.
| Dimension | Junkanoo | FUZE Art Fair | John Beadle’s sails | Underwater garden |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Primary audience | Bahamian community, diaspora | International collectors, resort guests | Art world, Venice Biennale | Students, snorkelers, divers |
| Material origin | Discarded consumer goods | Commissioned contemporary art | Salvaged migrant boat sails | Engineered concrete |
| Cultural stakes | Identity, heritage, social status | Market access, regional visibility | Migration, memory, sovereignty | Ecological restoration, education |
| Institutional support | Community groups, UNESCO | Baha Mar, private sector | TERN Gallery, Venice Biennale | BREEF, government |
| Risk / tension | Commercialization after UNESCO | Resort dependency | Appropriation of migrant stories | Climate change threats |
It’s tempting to read all four practices as expressions of a single “Bahamian creativity.” But each operates in a different social field, with different power dynamics. Junkanoo is community-organized and volunteer-driven; FUZE is corporate-funded; Beadle’s sails circulate in the global art market; the underwater garden is an NGO-led conservation project. The continuity is real, but so are the differences.
- The Bahamian art of making something from almost nothing is not a single tradition but a cultural logic that adapts across contexts — from Junkanoo to contemporary art to ecological restoration.
- This logic is not about scarcity as a lack, but as a condition that demands creativity and carries political meaning.
- The 2026 Venice Biennale pavilion, combining Beadle’s sails with Junkanoo costumes, represents a new phase: Bahamian artists taking control of their own representation on a global stage.
Questions readers ask
Can I visit a Junkanoo shack as a tourist?
Yes, but it requires advance planning. Most shacks are open to visitors in December, but you’ll need to arrange access through a local contact or tour operator. Be prepared to make a donation to the group — this is how they buy materials like felt paper and glue.
Is the FUZE art fair open to the public?
Yes, and it’s free. The fair is held at Baha Mar and is open to resort guests and the general public. The 2025 edition included school tours, which suggests the organizers are actively working to build a local audience beyond the tourist demographic.
What happened to John Beadle’s sails after his death?
Lavar Munroe will combine Beadle’s salvaged Haitian sails with Junkanoo costumes for a site-specific installation at the 2026 Venice Biennale. This will be the first entirely Bahamian-led pavilion, with a Bahamian curator, team, and production — a significant shift from previous editions.
Can I snorkel the underwater sculpture garden without a guide?
Technically yes, but it’s not recommended. The garden is within the Southwest Marine Managed Area, and a guide helps you navigate the site, avoid damaging the coral, and understand the ecological context. Most visitors book through a Clifton Heritage National Park authorized operator.
Is Junkanoo just for tourists now?
No. Despite growing tourist interest, Junkanoo remains a deeply community-based practice. The UNESCO recognition in 2023 affirmed its cultural significance, and the social hierarchy within Junkanoo — where creative people command respect regardless of their day job — is a Bahamian insider dynamic that tourism has not fundamentally altered.
What making something from almost nothing reveals
Across Junkanoo, FUZE, Beadle’s sails, and the underwater garden, the same pattern recurs: a refusal to see limitation as failure. The Bahamian art of making something from almost nothing is not a folk tradition of cheerfully “making do.” It is a practice of transformation that carries historical memory, political critique, and ecological hope. When Lavar Munroe combines migrant boat sails with Junkanoo costumes for the Venice Biennale, he is not just making art — he is asserting that the materials of displacement and celebration belong together, and that Bahamians can tell their own story on the world stage. For a deeper look at the tradition that started it all, read our guide to Junkanoo rush-out secrets.
Sources and further reading
Document Journal. “How a resort art fair is reshaping a small island nation’s art world — and taking it global.” 2025. 🔗
Caribbean Journal. “Bahamas Underwater Sculpture.” 2026. 🔗
Related reading on IslandHopperGuides
Beyond the Beaches: Discovering the Authentic Soul of Bahamian Culture — A broader look at Bahamian identity beyond tourism.
Conch Culture: More Than Just a Shell, It’s a Way of Life in the Bahamas — How another humble material becomes central to Bahamian identity.
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