Over the next month, if you take a ferry from the center of Venice to the island of Giudecca and walk into a former 15th-century convent, you will find yourself figuratively plunging underwater.

The haunting songs of humpback whales will flow around you. A fish will sing its evensong from the sea grass meadows of the Mediterranean. Boats recorded from beneath the surface of the Venetian lagoon will buzz like insects. A galaxy of bioluminescent plankton will glimmer in the sloshing waves.

This audiovisual symphony is part of “As Above, So Below,” a collateral exhibit running during the first month of the Venice Biennale, from Saturday through June 8. The exhibition brings together works by seven artists and art collectives who combine cutting-edge science and technology with traditional methods. Their installations surround visitors with natural sounds, merge their perspectives with those of other species and take them on an immersive journey into the sea, the soil and even a tree to highlight humans’ interdependence with the natural world.

As Elizabeth Zhivkova, a co-curator of the exhibition, put it: “‘As Above, So Below’ emerged from a shared urgency to rethink our relationship with nature, not as something separate from us, but as an interconnected system in which human, ecological and cosmic rhythms reflect one another.”

In addition to the exhibition, “As Above, So Below” is an ongoing research project that includes artist residencies and a podcast featuring conversations with artists and ocean advocates.

The project was born out of a partnership between Zeitgeist19, an environmental curatorial collective founded by Zhivkova and the show’s other co-curator, Farah Piriye Coene, and One Ocean Foundation, a scientific conservation organization based in Milan.

The name, “As Above, So Below,” comes from the Principle of Correspondence in Hermeticism, a spiritual tradition that blends Greek and Egyptian philosophies. It serves as a reminder that everything is connected. “The sea, the soil, the atmosphere, the human body are not separate realms; they are part of one relational field,” Coene said. “The exhibition asks whether art can help us feel that relation again.”

The exhibition’s setting in the former convent and church of Santi Cosma e Damiano — now a science and art innovation hub — fosters a contemplative atmosphere. In lieu of a central altarpiece, visitors encounter an immersive installation from the London-based artist collective Marshmallow Laser Feast, titled “Seeing Echoes in the Mind of the Whale.” In the work, a large-screen video immerses viewers in the sensory perspectives of a bottlenose dolphin, a humpback whale and a sperm whale as they dive and resurface to breathe.

The video plays recordings of dolphins’ trilling whistles, humpbacks’ meditative melodies and sperm whales’ Morse code-like clicks, which resonate throughout the space. To illustrate the use of echolocation to “see” through sound, these vocalizations are coordinated with visual effects. Shimmering swirls and pulsating pixels surround you, giving a sense of what bottlenose dolphins might “see” as they sweep sonar beams across colorful coral reefs, or what sperm whales might sense by blasting clicks to spy giant squid in the dark depths.

Ersin Han Ersin, one of the Marshmallow Laser Feast artists, explained in a video interview that the aim was for audiences to “disembody their own body, and momentarily embody what it is like to be a bottlenose dolphin or a whale.”

While visually speculative, the video is rooted in research. The members of the collective pored over scientific papers, compiled extensive hydrophone recordings and underwater videography, and collaborated with marine biologists and bioacousticians to dive into the sensory experiences of whales and dolphins, Ersin said.

In the process, he said, the artists became more sensitive to the ways noise pollution — the squeals of military sonar, the drumming of shipping traffic and the boom of seismic blasting to find fossil fuels — may be turning the ocean into an acoustic dystopia for animals and plants that live underwater.

“One part of me wants to scream that we are ruining these oceans, but the other part of me knows the best action is always cultivated from a place of love,” Ersin said. That is one goal of the installation, he added: To “make people fall in love with species that they never thought they can relate to.”

In another installation, “Fish String Theory,” Antoine Bertin, an artist who splits his time between Paris and Alicudi island, Italy, amplifies the surprisingly talkative world of fish. Bertin was inspired by reports of a “kwa” sound emanating from Mediterranean seagrass meadows. Scientists found that the kwa chorus most likely comes from scorpionfish. These venomous creatures have a muscular apparatus that functions like an internal violin.

Bertin made underwater recordings of scorpionfish and created fish-shaped sculptures with strings. When his recordings of scorpionfish play, the frequencies from the recordings activate electromagnets that vibrate the strings on the fish sculptures, creating a sound similar to a guitar or harp. The installation also includes Bertin’s underwater recordings of the Venetian lagoon, forming a dialogue between the scorpionfish song and the city’s aquatic soundscape.

Bertin is fascinated by the fact that life emerged in primordial seas, and said in an interview that he hoped that his installation would help people “return to the ocean as listeners.” His aim, he added, was to “create an experience that connects humans and fish in a sort of co-presence, to find out if we can resonate together.”

In “Water Older Than the Sun (Caspian),” the Kazakhstan-born artist Almagul Menlibayeva connects viewers to the Caspian Sea, which is shrinking because of climate change and water diversion — and being contaminated by drilling for oil and gas.

Menlibayeva pointed out that modern societies often see water as a resource to be used. She said in an interview that her installation positions water as an archive of deep time and as a “cosmic, alive entity.” As the title suggests, water is older than the sun because this cosmic compound formed as a result of supernovae explosions, then eventually came to Earth and condensed into oceans that gave rise to life. As such, “water has a memory,” Menlibayeva said, adding: “Water witnessed us as we appeared.”

At the center of Menlibayeva’s installation is a textile made from hand-sewn fabrics and A.I.-generated images of her artwork printed on synthetic silk that depict water, animals and robot-like humans. Fishing nets collected from the Caspian Sea dangle around the textile. Screens placed on the floor like a shoreline show surreal images, such as hands sewing water. Projected behind these pieces is “Requiem for the Caspian” by the London-based filmmaker Suad Gara, a short documentary that reveals the impact of the sea’s collapse on local people.

Just inside the entrance of the church, the Azerbaijan-born artist Elnara Nasirli has turned a reclaimed Italian olive tree into an instrument in “Whispering Forest.” Nasirli translated trees’ bioelectric rhythms into music and vibrations that softly play from contact points triggered by motion detection. Only by touching or hugging the tree, or leaning in very close and listening carefully, can visitors fully hear its whispered song.

Also in the exhibition, artworks bring viewers up close to underground mycelial networks, a holographic jellyfish and bioluminescent plankton that spell out “No blue, no green,” a quote from the marine biologist Sylvia Earle about the vital importance of marine ecosystems.

Altogether, the exhibition invites people to attune to the intelligence and voices of other species and, as Bertin said, to “stretch their sense of self to include the vastness of the ocean.”

At a closed marine park in the south of France, two orcas swim lonely circles in an aging tank, its walls caked with green algae. Their fate has become a drama in France, where the government must decide soon whether to transfer them to another marine park or release them into a sanctuary in the sea.

While the prospect of sending them into nature is appealing, evoking a sense of restitution for captive mammals, critics argue it is both experimental and unrealistic. These orcas — a female, Wikie, 25, and her son Keijo, 13 — were born in Marineland, the shuttered park in Antibes, and have never had to survive in the wild.

The park closed in January 2025 after 55 years, a victim of the coronavirus pandemic, which crushed attendance, and animal welfare legislation from 2021. The law banned most shows involving marine mammals like orcas, reducing the park’s appeal to tourists.

Since the closure, about 40 employees have come each day to care for the mammals — in addition to the orcas, there are 12 dolphins — at a cost of several million euros a year, according to Marineland.

That arrangement may soon be untenable. A report this year warned that the orcas’ tanks were suffering “progressive structural deterioration” despite maintenance. A major structural failure might prompt the park owners to euthanize the orcas, also known as killer whales.

Some accuse the government of dragging its feet in finding a solution.

“I just get this feeling that they’re just waiting for the orcas to die to solve the problem,” said Paul Watson, founder of the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, an antipoaching and marine-conservation group. He is lobbying for European countries to finance the construction of a marine sanctuary in Europe.

Last June, Mr. Watson recalled, President Emmanuel Macron of France promised him on television that he would help find a solution for the orcas. “We haven’t heard anything since,” he said.

The French government declined an interview request but has released several updates about its efforts to find a solution. But “there’s no magical sanctuary,” said Mathieu Lefèvre, France’s deputy minister for ecological transition, during a Senate hearing in April.

There are two options. France can either transfer the orcas to a park similar to Marineland, most likely Loro Parque on the Spanish island of Tenerife. Or it can move them to an area at sea protected by nets, like a planned 100-acre open-water sanctuary in a cove on the Canadian coast, called the Whale Sanctuary Project.

This kind of sanctuary would allow handlers to care for the mammals in a natural setting, without public performances. That contrasts with the fate of Keiko, the orca who starred in the 1993 feature film “Free Willy.” He was later released into the wild, without human protection, and struggled to adapt.

Each option has its obstacles. The French government initially said its preference was to send the orcas to the Canadian site. But months later, the site isn’t ready and experts are still debating if it’s an appropriate habitat for the whales, derailing the French plan. And the Spanish authorities have blocked the orcas’ transfer to Spain, the French government said in December.

Even among marine experts and activists, there is no consensus about the best solution.

Moving captive-born orcas to natural environments doesn’t guarantee their well-being, according to critics of the Canadian plan, since the orcas’ ability to adapt to that new context is not assured. Such sites may be polluted or noisy, creating more stress for the orcas, and they are also expensive to maintain.

“These solutions appear more appealing to our human eyes than they do for the daily lives of these animals,” said Martin Böye, scientific director at Loro Parque Foundation, which already owns four orcas. Wikie and Keijo need interactions with other orcas in a familiar environment, he added.

Mr. Watson warned that because these orcas were raised in a Mediterranean climate, they would not be acclimated to a Canadian one. He also noted that the nearby shoreline used to have a gold mine, raising concerns about contaminated water — though the Whale Sanctuary Project says that its studies showed the site was safe.

“On paper, it’s a great solution, but in practice it’s impossible,” said Valentin Ducros, a spokesman for Marineland.

Supporters of the open-water option counter that parks have a vested interest in keeping orcas captive, since it makes it easier for them to breed new generations of killer whales, sustaining their business model.

Critics fault the French government for passing the law restricting marine shows without planning for the future of their former stars. Anne Chain-Larché, a senator who worked on the law, deplored that no impact assessment was produced and that decrees clarifying the law took too much time to be drafted for parks to adapt.

Now, the orcas are paying the price for that lack of foresight, said Marketa Schusterova, a founder of TideBreakers, a Canadian nonprofit that protects marine mammals.

“How can we be screaming, ‘Empty the tanks,’ and have nowhere for these animals to go?” Ms. Schusterova said.

The Trump administration has directed national recreation areas, seashores, wildlife refuges and other public lands to immediately lift dozens of restrictions on hunting and trapping, internal Interior Department documents show.

The order, which takes effect on Monday, applies to some 76 federal lands that allow hunting but have rules to protect habitats or people. Curecanti National Recreation Area in Colorado had prohibited firing weapons from, toward or across trails. At Lake Meredith National Recreation Area in Texas, hunters had been barred from cleaning and processing game animals in restrooms. And at the Ozark National Scenic Riverways in Missouri, hunting dogs were required to have tags for safety.

Those and many other requirements are now deleted.

Interior Secretary Doug Burgum ordered the changes, according to an April 21 memo to park officials and a spreadsheet of changes at individual parks, both of which were reviewed by The New York Times.

“Closures and restrictions not required by law must be the minimum necessary for public safety or resource protection,” the memo said.

Major national parks like Yellowstone, the Everglades and the Grand Canyon are permanently closed to hunting by statute and will not be affected by the order.

Critics said the changes were made without studies or wide consultation about how they might affect public lands. They warned of unintended consequences for animals and habitats. The Interior Department said in a statement that each change had been carefully reviewed and that any restrictions necessary for public safety or legal compliance would not be lifted.

Mr. Burgum has shown an eagerness to expand hunting and fishing on federal lands. Last year, the Interior Department allowed hunting across 87,000 new acres at national wildlife refuges and hatcheries. And in January, Mr. Burgum issued a secretarial order directing the National Park Service, the Fish and Wildlife Service, the Bureau of Land Management and the Bureau of Reclamation to review “outdated” restrictions that may pose an “unnecessary regulatory burden.”

Aubrie Spady, a spokeswoman for the Interior Department, said in a statement that Mr. Burgum’s order was a common-sense approach to managing public lands and said the agency was expanding access to hunting and fishing where it can be done safely and responsibly.

“For decades, sportsmen and women have been some of the strongest stewards of our public lands, and this order ensures their access is not unnecessarily restricted by outdated or overly broad limitations that are not required by law,” Ms. Spady said. She added that the agency does not comment on leaked or unofficial documents, but said internal deliberative materials did not reflect how the decisions were made.

According to the spreadsheet of changes that the Trump administration has requested at specific locations, park officials have pushed back in some places.

For example, Cape Cod National Seashore in Massachusetts said it could not allow hunting or carrying loaded weapons near trails and certain buildings because about 4 million people visit the park each year. And at New River Gorge National River in West Virginia, officials said they were not planning to change prohibitions on discharging firearms within 500 feet of visitors centers and campgrounds, calling it “a basic safety measure.”

But parks have already made dozens of other changes. Several have agreed to repeal restrictions on the use of artificial lights when hunting and allow permanent hunting stands. Conservation groups have argued that lights may affect wildlife and that stands can harm vegetation.

Other changes include an end to restrictions on transporting wildlife as well as rules restricting where animal carcasses can be left.

And in some cases, compendiums — the written compilation of closures, permit requirements and other restrictions at parks — have already been altered. For example, as of May 1, the Jean Lafitte National Historical Park and Preserve in Louisiana eliminated a section that declared that all reptile species, including turtles and alligators, are protected in the park.

Compendiums have typically been designed at the discretionary authority of park superintendents.

“Those things were put into place by park superintendents over a period of time for very good reasons,” said Daniel Wenk, the former National Park Service superintendent of Yellowstone National Park, said of the changes, adding, “this is very concerning.”

Advocates for park protection who were shown the memo said they supported hunting in parks where Congress has authorized the activity. But some accused the Trump administration of acting irresponsibly and imposing a one-size-fits-all deregulatory agenda on parks with specific needs. Many said the administration was rushing through changes that could put hikers and campers in danger or harm vulnerable wildlife.

Several said the move appeared to violate the 1916 Organic Act, which created the National Park Service. It allows hunting where federally mandated but also directs the agency to conserve park resources so they are “unimpaired” for the enjoyment of future generations.

“What we’re really concerned about is, that memo didn’t say, ‘do analysis,’” said Stephanie Adams, who leads the wildlife program at the National Parks Conservation Association, a nonprofit group.

“It didn’t say ‘engage the public,’ and it didn’t say to be sure to focus on that key part of the Organic Act, which is to manage in a way that leaves the parks unimpaired for the enjoyment of future generation,” Ms. Adams said.

Hunting and outdoor sporting groups have praised the Trump administration’s efforts so far.

Aaron Kindle, the director of sporting advocacy at the National Wildlife Federation, a conservation nonprofit that supports hunting, said wildlife refuges often have different regulations than the states, creating confusion for hunters.

Rob Sexton, the senior vice president of the Sportsmen Alliance, a hunting advocacy group, said national park sites have had a “closed until open” attitude toward hunting that needs to be reversed. He said restrictions that are not grounded in state law or “compelling scientific evidence” showing harm to wildlife and habitat should be eliminated to help encourage more hunting and fishing.

Both Mr. Kindle and Mr. Sexton declined to comment on specific rules because they had not seen the documents.

“The number one reason why people give up hunting and fishing is the lack of opportunity and access,” Mr. Sexton said.

Federal land managed by the Bureau of Indian Affairs inside reservations also is expected to be unaffected by the order.