The artwork, commissioned by Hirschsprung, is expansive in scope and integrates the entire architecture of the museum into the exhibition – both physically and metaphorically. The sculpture, based on a 3D rendering of Grace Jones’ body and face, is covered in tobacco leaves that are transformed into skin, inspired by the floor mosaic in the museum foyer created by visual artist Joakim Skovgaard in 1910 – depicting a tobacco plant. From the sculpture, wild braids grow and burst through the vitrine in which the sculpture is installed. These braids spiral out of the case’s archival drawers and onto the floor, winding their way through the space. The vitrine in itself, mirrors the exhibition practices as an underlying colonial structure – the act of viewing others through a glass window reminds us of the white gaze upon the Black body. Yet the sculpture resists this framing and appears to be on the verge of breaking free from the case. The surface of the body references the tobacco trade upon which the Hirschsprung Collection was founded, as the family made their fortune through the sale of tobacco. This ties into the theme of the exhibition, which centers on the many exotic plants that Danish upperclass households brought into their homes – reflected, among other things, in the paintings surrounding the total installation.

These plants – especially the tobacco plant – become a symbol of how colonial structures once operated and, indeed, continue to operate today. This transition is further explored by Jeannette through her connection with two tobacco farmers in Jutland, one of whom is originally from the indigenous part of Colombia. Here, it became clear how the tobacco plant’s once-healing properties were overwritten by the West’s extraction and exploitation of it. The medicinal use of the plant is addressed in the accompanying video work placed on the wall next to the sculpture, explained on the following page.