Climate Protesters Throw Soup on Jackson Pollock Painting, Nobody Can Tell the Difference

The Climate Movement Took a Huge L Today

NEW YORK CITY—Today at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the infamous climate protest group Just Stop Oil made a major statement on the dire need to phase out fossil fuels by defacing a priceless Jackson Pollock painting with a can of tomato soup. Unfortunately, soup splatters and abstract expressionism mix a little too well, and nobody noticed the painting had been vandalized.

In recent years, environmental activist groups have flocked to beloved paintings in art galleries across the world to stage demonstrations involving a range of delicious broths, stews, and chowders. In October 2022, climate activists famously threw a perfectly good chilled gazpacho on Sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh at the National Gallery in London. This was followed up by another vicious soup attack in January 2024, when demonstrators hurled a delectable and nourishing goulash at Mona Lisa at the Louvre, although an extra pinch of salt and it would have been perfect. From the first moment the vitamin-rich broth splashed against these time-honored artworks, the activists gripped the world in a profound fit of outrage. Since then, the initial shock has worn off, and some say the novelty of these demonstrations have become more of a nuisance.

In an effort to up the ante, two climate protesters from Just Stop Oil planned a new demonstration to set themselves apart. Hanz and Freida Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff, a brother and sister duo who are very proud of their French heritage, recently moved to New York City and spent months meticulously planning their attack. While little Hanz patrolled the grocery stores in search of the perfect soup, Freida scoured the art galleries for their target.

“We realized that most of these soup attacks tend to target the most beautiful paintings, you know, DaVinci, Van Gogh, the type of paintings that traditionalists really care about. But people are getting bored of that,” Freida explained to reporters. “That’s when it finally hit us: nobody ever targets the modern art section. We realized this was a major opportunity.”

So in the early hours of morning, the two young protesters entered the Metropolitan Museum of Art conspicuously hiding an entire shelf’s worth of soup in their backpacks. They made a beeline for the modern art gallery, where dozens of guests admired the artworks. Wasting no time, the two activists quickly dropped their bags and pulled out their soup cans.

“The most stressful part was that we almost forgot the can opener,” little Hanz told investigators afterwards. “I had to rummage around in my backpack for five minutes until we finally found it.”

Before the security guards could stop them, the brother and sister duo unleashed their fury on the modern art. Their first target was a 16-foot wide Jackson Pollock painting Blue Poles consisting of multicolored splatters of paint. Priced at a value of $500 million, the vandalized painting was sure to cause quite a disruption. The two activists hurled their tomato chunks onto the painting and turned around waiting for the onlookers to erupt in surprise, but nobody said anything.

“That’s when I realized we made a mistake,” Freida later said.

They squinted hard at the Pollock painting for signs of their vandalism, only to find the soup splatter-marks were indistinguishable from the rest of the paint splatters. The security guard just shrugged and didn’t even try to stop them.

“Nobody noticed,” little Hanz said, exasperated. “Maybe the first one was a dud, so we figured it wouldn’t hurt to sully the other modern art with a mouth-watering tomato bouillon.”

So the activists continued to the next installation in the museum, a $253 million Mark Rothko painting that featured a single red rectangle against a dark backdrop. The two activists, confident this would finally bring international recognition to their eco-friendly cause, eagerly defaced the painting.

The tomato soup splattered against the red canvas. They squinted hard to try and make out the marks of the red sauce.

“It blends in surprisingly well,” Freida remarked.

Again, none of the museum-goers could even tell anything was amiss. Not one word about the horrors of fossil fuels was spoken.

“By this point we were running low on soup. We only had two cans of Progresso Cream of Mushroom, which is the worst soup, so you can tell we were getting desperate,” little Hanz said.

The two aspiring activists continued to the final painting in the gallery, a $37 million painting called Composition VII by Wassily Kandinsky. A prime example of early abstract art that broke from traditional European style, it features a chaotic swirl of interconnected lines and colorful fluid shapes.

“Just stop oil!” they cried in unison, hurling the cans with all their strength. Bits of mushroom struck the canvas, while chunky streaks streamed down and dripped to the floor. Surely, onlookers would be able to tell the painting was ruined.

Blissfully unaware, the museum guests continued to snap photographs and selfies with the paintings, completely unaffected by the dripping foodstuff.

“I really like how the artist incorporated the white streaks into his work. They represent his sadness,” one of the guests said. “This is why I like modern art. There’s no such thing as good or bad. It just depends on your perspective.”

Panting with exhaustion from their afternoon of unappreciated vandalism, the Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff siblings finally hung their heads in defeat and marched out of the museum.

“All I want is some recognition,” little Hanz’s voice quivered as he burst into tears.

“Don’t be sad little brother,” Freida patted him on the back to comfort him. “Don’t worry about what other people think of you. For what it’s worth, I think you did a great job today. How about I buy you a pretzel?”

In a bewildering tun of events, the Metropolitan Museum of Art put out a press release several hours later announcing the ruined paintings had actually risen in value, and they promptly sold them to another art gallery at a $100 million markup.