By Amy Kilroy
There’s something undeniably cinematic about a storm – the build-up, the drama, that strange, electric stillness right before everything kicks off. Artists have been drawn to this kind of elemental chaos for centuries, from thunderclaps and lightning bolts to wind that howls like it’s got something to say. But these days, stormy inspiration doesn’t always come in the form of a moody seascape or a windswept cliff. Now, the storm shows up in stranger places ; in endless digital dust clouds, in fire-scorched silhouettes, in artificial suns. Here are five pieces of art inspired by storms that don’t just capture the weather – they let it loose.
1. J.M.W Turner‘s Snow Storm: Steam-Boat off a Harbour’s Mouth (1842)
Kicking off our survey of art inspired by storms, Turner’s tempestuous seascape is all swirling brushstrokes, industrial fog and “wait… is that even a boat?” It’s chaos on canvas. The legend goes that Turner had himself strapped to a ship’s mast mid-storm to get the vibe right – and whether or not that’s true, it feels true. You’re not looking at a storm here ; you’re in it, eyes full of salt spray and existential dread. Impressionism? He beat them to it. Abstract expressionism? Basically re-invented it.
2. John Gerrard‘s Dust Storm (Mater, Kansas) (2007)
This one is like a Windows screensaver… if it were haunted and about climate collapse. Gerrard’s eerie digital artwork simulates a never-ending dust storm rolling across a barren slice of Kansas, powered by gaming tech. No people, no soundtrack, just a 360-degree loop of rusted fences and slow-moving doom. It’s oddly hypnotic – like the earth is buffering. If Turner gives you full drama, Gerrard gives you dread on a low simmer. It’s the future of storms, and the vibe is very much “end-of-the-world desert minimalism.”
3. Ana Mendieta‘s Volcano Series (1983)
Think of this one as the storm turned inward: fire instead of lightning, eruption instead of downpour. Next in our survey of art inspired by storms, Mendieta’s volcanic performances (captured in a series of photographs) involve her carving body-shaped silhouettes into the ground and filling them with gunpowder and flames. The result? A mix of ritual, rage, and earthbound alchemy. You’re not just witnessing weather. You’re watching it become a body. It’s raw, it’s beautiful, and it’s basically what you’d get if Mother Nature joined a performance art collective.
4. Olafur Eliasson‘s The Weather Project (2003)
Storms aren’t always noisy. Sometimes they hum. Eliasson’s iconic Turbine Hall takeover at Tate Modern filled the space with artificial mist, golden light, and a giant fake sun. The result? An eerily calming indoor climate – like walking into a Scandinavian acid trip. Visitors lay on the floor and gazed upward like they were sunbathing at the end of the world. It wasn’t a storm in the literal sense, but it definitely made people think about the atmosphere differently. Plus, it was incredibly Instagrammable. Long before “immersive” was a buzzword, Eliasson was already rewriting the weather.
5. Yoko Ono’s Sky TV (1966)
Sometimes, we get thunder. Sometimes we get hail – although sometimes, we get…Absolutely nothing! Welcome to conceptual weather! It’s like a British summer where you may get sun, but you definitely should hold your breath. Concluding on our list of art inspired by storms, Yoko Ono’s Sky TV is exactly what it sounds like – a live feed of the sky, projected onto a screen, changing moment by moment. Ono’s piece was wildly ahead of its time (decades before livestreaming or real-time video art became a thing). It’s simple, elegant, and surprisingly thrilling if you’re the kind of person who watches clouds like they’re mood swings. Like weather itself, the work resists predictability and defies the expectation of performance on demand.
What can we learn from these pieces?
On the artists canvas, I think we’ve learnt that a storm can be more than the weather. It’s a mood, a metaphor and sometimes a total sensory takeover.