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| Food for thought. For personal use only Līga Marcinkeviča, Krišs Salmanis, Artists | |
| Fighting with the misleading impression of knowing it all, created by pseudo-intellectual discussions, and the ongoing feeling of discomfort that something essential may have been said in the very discussion you were not part of, on one of the last days of the previous year Studija invited three painters to a conversation. Why three? So that, in case opinions differed, there wouldn’t be a ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ point of view. There were several combinations of invitees which made sense, in our opinion. The die was cast, and we invited Daiga Krūze, Laura Prikule and Andris Eglītis to the talk. Why painters? Laura, in particular, is against differentiating artists according to the medium they work in. Studija is partially in agreement with this, but for now, let it be. The initial theme, or the one that evolved during the conversation, is the identity of the artist in a nonexistent context. The theme was narrowed down to the “identity of the artist” purely to make the task easier for the reader, because so far in Latvia, since we regained independence, there is hardly any field where a new context has been created. For example, upon hearing the phrase ‘building manager’, which is the same old Soviet institution renamed, the mood gets spoiled and a person may become aggressive and start using rude words. See, theoretically we have “set up” the ideal Western European model in our minds (it was easier that way – foreign trips, the internet and at least some knowledge of foreign languages), but the reality has remained where it has always been, since no one seems to be able to make themselves take charge of it. Studija: It seems that it’s still difficult for all of us to formulate in words what we are so sure about in our feelings. Laura Prikule: You have to hit the bull’s eye – the idea, as precisely as possible. You may catch an edge of it, but it won’t be the same. You could say that there is a city of ideas. It consists of cubes, for example. You must enter into this city, become conscious of an idea, come out and simply do what you have become aware of. To be an artist means to be able to get into the city of ideas. The measure of your mastery lies in what you are able to display from what you learnt in that city. Every idea has its own most appropriate form of expression. You might visit the ideas that are best shown in a video format, skipping the painting neighbourhood. Although there may be cubes of ideas from which you can go off in various directions. Daiga Krūze: Those feelings that are very hard to describe... I think that’s when we get closer to the essence, the thing we are trying to figure out by any means possible. It’s the same in art, in painting. It’s the ability to take an idea and show it in a way that the work of art breathes, it’s no longer just an object, but a field of information. There are all kinds of made-up conditions why a work of art can be good. But when you are looking at one, you can feel whether or not there is something familiar in it. If there isn’t, then you start thinking about it. It is very obvious when an artist is passionate about his or her work, then the work is alive. A work which is made formally is a work for someone else, but as an artist you have to do it for yourself, simply be and express yourself in a way that is acceptable to you. Studija: One of the reasons we have started this series of conversations with painters is because the viewer is more used to paintings. D.K.: Is it easier to take in? Studija: Yes, it’s to do with tradition, the familiar rectangular format, and not only in exhibitions, but also in reproductions, family photo albums, etc. As soon as three-dimensional space appears, the suffering begins. Perhaps a way of helping anyone, even an untrained viewer, to organize everything that is happening in a space is to place a sofa in the middle of the exhibition? D.K.: We had a sofa last autumn in Berga bazārs, by the way. Studija: Did it help? L.P.: Yes, the sofa was at the Therapy Station. At least it was an object that people could recognize. The sofa worked for me, too. Once Ieva Kalniņa and I were chatting amongst ourselves that maybe it should be enough that the viewer comes to the artist’s studio, sits down for a while on a couch or an armchair, where they can stretch their legs. Then they can just have a heart-to-heart talk. The most important thing right now is the interaction between artists, art theoreticians, curators, viewers, collectors, teachers and the Academy professors. Yes, everyone is working and doing a lot of things individually, but they don’t have a common idea as to what should be achieved here on the Latvian art scene, and what would be best discontinued. It is a question of talking about it and being aware of the issues. The thing that matters is to be clear about goals. Studija: And what has been discussed must be written down, because whatever it may be, there has to be a point of reference. Everybody is doing something, but in most cases separately. And they keep blaming each other. There are no curators, there is no art market. That sofa is missing. L.P.: A place where this is missing and that is missing… and then those grammatical constructions that feature the double negative. It sounds like we have only what we don’t have. The Big Emptiness. So, at least we have something! D.K.: It’s not emptiness! Even assuming that the future is emptiness, it is still a place where you can plant something. The feeling that we don’t have anything is like looking at ourselves in the mirror too often. We see the same thing over and over again, with small changes. We must look away from ourselves. And let things happen. Studija: There are no boundaries in art. If we are trying to find that sofa we mentioned, then we will have to define some sort of territory. L.P.: But does this have to be according to technical criteria? There’s already been too much talk about the qualities of painting, but I think it’s important to speak about the limitedness of ideas. In our country, do we probe ideas deeply enough and then choose the best material, or do we remain narrow in our outlook? It’s the ideas that should be refined. Of course, it is important to have the balance right between an idea and its implementation, technical skills and school. Thinking of ideas, I once created a work about the planting of ideas. For an idea to grow – to continue the analogy with gardening – a lot depends on the choice of appropriate soil and careful planting, watering, precise lighting, the amount of soil and the size of the plantbox. The whole system of art is a single united ecosystem, and it should be viewed as such. We should assess what kind of ecosystem we have in Latvia, and what it requires. D.K.: I agree with Laura, that it is more appropriate to call us artists, because ideas can be realised in the widest range of materials. But that would be a very simple chain: idea – implementation – artwork. Often you must dig deep to get to the right idea. Andris Eglītis: Nevertheless, I would say that I am a painter. To me, an artist is a completely amorphous concept. I am a painter who can also make sculptures, photos, or something else. In this case, speaking of an idea sounds too narrow. It is more of an intuitive, impulsive process. Studija: What then is it that the Latvian art ecosystem needs? L.P.: First of all, to become more aware that such a system exists and that the people, phenomena, processes, events and the environment are mutually closely related. The whole ecosystem in general, of course, needs more light, warmth and freedom. However, experience shows that if we want things to happen in a free and comfortable way, then we really have to take serious care of things. D.K.: Research of the subject matter from different viewpoints. For example, what does a landscape mean to a scientist, a musician, a gardener? I think that this could be not only discussed, but a more interesting way could be devised, perhaps by putting on visual events. Lectures, too, are very necessary. We could look for and think of different approaches to one thing. A.E.: Ego and the invasion of extraterrestrials. Art processes should be perceived as a live progression, which cannot be so easily preserved nor changed. Both artists and curators should offer their contribution zealously – this promotes a variety of art processes and distinguishes the relevant from the nonessential. I would like to encounter more beautifully-done work on the part of curators, as opposed to group exhibitions of a coincidental nature. Studija: I’d like to return to [the issue of] criteria again. Laura, I know that you have a whole list of them, some twenty points. L.P.: When Kaspars Lielgalvis and I were discussing the criteria for the VEF Art Centre awards, we had to think first of all about what it is that is valuable in art. The expansion of art and perception probably should be in first place. Thinking of the context of my work, the matryoshka principle comes to mind. There are nested layers: I, my workshop, my circle of friends. Of course, in this way you get to the world, which you shouldn’t forget. Being here, I work in art in a general way. The local doesn’t cancel out the global. A.E.: Maybe the most important thing is to feel that what you are doing is of significance to someone, that it isn’t just needlessly wasted energy. You can regard a work of art as the captured essence of culture, which is what the artist is purposefully trying to achieve – and the rest of the art field is what forms, guides, encourages and demands of the artist. Studija: You’ve had considerable art experience outside Latvia. What has this meant for you? A.E.: It definitely helps to see yourself in a different context. Until recently it seemed that all my best works were created outside Latvia, away from the daily routine that dilutes your attention. Over the last year that has changed. Perhaps I wouldn’t have anything to paint there [abroad]. But you probably need to get away from time to time. Being here for a longer period of time, you get used to the local view, it starts affecting you and you begin looking at things in the same way. Of course, you can insist that you are painting for yourself and for eternity, however you can’t escape that particular way of looking. D.K.: Quite often in a residency it is easier to see how you need to do things. You can think about something without being disturbed, and then you realize how it should be done. Studija: Does this “how you need to do things” already exist somewhere, and we simply have to achieve it? And should we be thinking about all of us together, and not each about our own work individually? A.E.: It’s a must! L.P.: I already mentioned the ecosystem. It’s important for each of us individually that the environment where we are is favourable for growth. We talk about how, whilst living here, to grow into a mighty tree that doesn’t move each time a viewer looks at a work the wrong way, or the gallery turns out to be the wrong one. If, when working in the local environment, you bear in mind the global, that’s OK. But if the idea hasn’t been carried out to the finish, or has already been implemented, but you are not aware of it, then you cannot move a step further… Studija: How do you ensure contact with the rest of this body, how do you keep up with what’s happening right now? A.E.: Incidental conversations and completed works. L.P.: When I was studying at the San Francisco Art Institute, it seemed natural to switch on to everything that is happening in the world, and I’ve retained that feeling. From time to time you have to throw a new log onto that fire, and that’s how you get to feel the total picture. When you come across something you can relate to, you read that book or magazine. The most interesting thing is to communicate with specialists in other areas and to find a common meeting point. Studija: And how about the Master for whom you work, cleaning the floor and mixing colours for five years, in order to eventually dethrone them? L.P.: Better to have several and that they might have come deeper or closer to the essence. But what is characteristic of Latvia is not lasting and stable relationships, but rather episodically powerful conversations with various people. If one really wishes, Riga is small enough for such conversations to happen, occasionally and spontaneously… Studija: And big enough to be able to search for these opportunities. L.P.: Yes, except that here often there is only one specialist in each field, while in larger countries there are more people interested in a particular theme, percentage-wise. That’s why it’s more difficult with the occurrences that are not widely accepted, where there isn’t much competition. If you happen to be the only one in your speciality, your line of interest, you don’t have to try so hard. You may as well go and watch TV instead. That’s why it becomes very important to be honest with yourself. Somebody must keep up the standards. Studija: Do you feel like rivals amongst yourselves? A.E.: I would rather call it measuring one’s self against the others. What we do is too different to be in direct competition. L.F.: Yes, we appreciate much more what others have done, how powerful the works are. Studija: Is it at all possible to speak of Latvian painting these days? A.E.: I think it is. To a great extent it’s to the credit of the Academy. A certain direction of thinking has been inculcated, which even Laura can identify with by taking a stand against it. There is a kinship between us all that is hard to formulate. Quite unconsciously we are affected by what happens in our immediate environment. Thus, by mutually influencing each other, we create one body. D.K.: I don’t see that. I can see Lithuanian painting, though. In the colours of the national flag. We are very different in painting, and a little frozen stiff. But we are hardworking, technically able, that’s why from time to time there is something pleasing to the eye. We could be more confident, more relaxed, knowing why we have to do what we do. L.P.: You can sense waves of new ideas or techniques. As soon as there is something new at the Academy, it is reflected in the large exhibitions. There is a whole range of works where the new tendencies are reflected in various forms. Studija: What are the latest discoveries and where do they come from? D.K.: The discoveries come from the places we happen to visit. Recently I was in Finland, and I really liked an exhibition of painters’ works which were not paintings. Studija: So the authors were still selected on the basis of their usual medium? L.P.: But is that the best and final classification? A.E.: It’s silly enough, but at the Academy our students are divided into painters, visual communication specialists or sculptors, and that’s how they continue. L.P.: It would be much better if, for instance, those who play floorball or get up at exactly 7 o’clock in the morning could meet up afterwards and discuss this or that topic in some art project. In principle such groups of people have a common significant experience which if, hypothetically, reflected in their works, would be the thing that is missing in Riga today. If a dialogue took shape without being based on the study major, or on age, but on something that they really have in common. D.K.: And the result would have to be carried outside the studio, as an inspiration to others. Studija: If they came to Latvia, would the participants of that exhibition in Finland find something to be inspired by here? L.P.: Yes, but they would have to really look for it. The most interesting things are taking place in the studios, much less is happening in the public space. The informal places tend to be interesting, but it’s not so easy to find them. I would recommend that the foreigners go for the students’ plein air, with frogs on the road, wind and rain. And also to study the basics of art really well, because this doesn’t happen everywhere in the world. A.E.: They could visit kim?, they would like it. And VEF, too. L.P.: Those two and Art Space, at least it’s possible to find them. But everything here happens kind of sporadically. Given the number of artists in Riga, public displays could be much more powerful. And curators still have many opportunities, which they should consider very carefully. Studija: Thinking of the Lithuanian gallery Tulips & Roses, it seems that we also have a niche for a gallery which has a solid idea and a decent business plan behind it. A.E.: They sloped off to Brussels. L.P.: But it would be really great if we had something so powerful, wouldn’t it, which could later shove off elsewhere like that! Studija: Maybe you should attend a business course? L.P.: That’s important, but not to the extent that I would sacrifice my direct responsibilities. Studija: How do you, Andris, manage to organize solo exhibitions so frequently? A.E.: By being stubborn and enthusiastic. The solo exhibitions are necessary for me to understand what I have achieved and to form a kind of dialogue with the public. For me it is an essential part of my work. The creation of an exhibition, taking into account the space and context, is in itself like a separate work. The exhibition has to help the viewer to understand what is the correct or the desirable mode of viewing the works. L.P.: And what is the correct mode of viewing the works? A.E.: To put it trivially, usually the viewer looks at paintings in a gallery as potential pieces to decorate the walls. This is the context we should seek to avoid. L.P.: It’s vital to make as many “prisms” as possible available to the public, to show multiple ways of looking at works and at things in general. The more ways of looking at things the viewer has, the more interesting it is for the artist also. Studija: What are the differences between art education in Latvia and abroad? What can we learn from each other? A.E.: You cannot speak of ‘abroad’ as a single body. For example, the Art Academy, at least the Painting Department, follows academic education practices that have been kept up from former times, due to momentum and habit. Here the main means is intuitive practical work based on formal criteria and rooted in habit. What is missing to an extent is that the students are not trained in thinking, in being able to analyze contexts, to develop and elaborate on ideas. The strong points might be the craftsmanship and the associatively intuitive direction. But it also happens that a lack of clarity about criteria and goals encourages rather mechanical creative work. L.P.: Speaking concretely about the San Francisco Art Institute in California, USA, where I studied, I would like to point out a few of the things that I liked: 1. Real, not nominal opportunities to choose study options, professors to consult with each semester and the media to work in; 2. A successful fusion of theory and practice; 3. Each MA student has a separate studio on the school premises; 4. The boundaries are being constantly pushed forwards, as in individual work, so also in conversations with fellow students and in critique seminars; 5. Being informed about what’s happening elsewhere; 6. A weekly lecture series of visiting artists; 7. A string of empty rooms with white walls to be used for temporary installations and projects, as well as seminars; 8. The school has several galleries where students’ works are displayed nonstop, both solo and group exhibitions; 9. A wealth of material and technical resources; 10. The school library is a powerful resource of information, and is used appropriately. People with talent, or at least some ability in art, study both here and as in the West. That’s why I don’t want to delve into reflections about traditions and the contemporary, I just want to emphasize that the main thing is to understand those methods and attributes of the educational system which help to realize talents and abilities to their fullest extent. /Translator into English: Vita Limanoviča/ | |
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