MERE LAUL / Jutustus Raul Meelest.

Raul Meelest kirjutab Margus Tamm. 

Artikkel valmis ajakirja Estonian Art tellimusel.

I

ARM ELULE

Lapates Raul Meele retseptsiooni, jääb silma sõna müüt läbiv kasutamine: omamüüt, müüdiloome, kunstnikumüüt, maailmamüüt. Kunstnik Raul Meele näol on järelikult tegemist autoriga, kelle kunstnikutee on võrreldav müüdiga, mahub müüdiloo raamidesse. Tõsi, Raul Meele elu pole olnud meelakkumine - kunstnikukarjääri rajamine pole kulgenud lihtsalt, biograafias leidub kangelasele vääriliselt nii triumfe kui tagasilööke, loometee pole sirgjooneline, see on otsiv ja, võib oletada, et nii mõnigi kord ka ekslev. Kuid, lõpp hea, kõik hea ning vaadates kasvõi käesolevat, suurepärast ja suurejoonelist retrospektiivi KUMU suures saalis, saab öelda, et tegemist on õnneliku lõpu müüdiga.

Õnneliku lõpu müüti tuntakse imemuinasjutuna. Vladimir Proppi klassikaline käsitlus “Imemuinasjutu morfoloogia” (orig. 1928) sätestab, et imemuinasjuttude muutumatuteks elementideks on tegelaste funktsioonid, mis, olenemata konkreetsetest asjaoludest, on olemuselt muutumatud. Kokku loetleb Propp 31 funktsiooni, ühes loos ei pea need kõik olema esindatud, kuid funktsioonide järjekord on alati sama. Hilisem strukturalistlik narratoloogia, sh. Juri Lotmani kunstilise teksti struktuuri käsitlus, lähtub oluliselt Proppi pärandist. Keskne on idee, et süžee käivitub piiri ületusest. Lugu saab alguse siis kui üks tegelane lahkub oma ettemääratud kohalt ja astub üle oma senise maailma läve, teise, tundmatusse, imelisse maailma. Sellisest tegelasest saab kangelane. Kangelase tee ei ole kerge, ta mitte üksnes ei pea võitlema piiritaguse maailma uute ja ennenägemata ohtudega, vaid, mis veelgi hullem, piiriületamise akt muudab ta võõraks ka koduste jaoks. Teda ei tunta enam ära. Nii võib kangelane jääda pikalt kahe maailma vahele hulkuma, pärimata muinasjutulist poolt kuningriiki või leidmata võimalust isakoju naasta.

Raul Meele müüdil on kaks omavahel seotud süžeeliini.

Esiteks, Raul Meel on hariduselt elektriinsener. Mõnes teises ühiskonnas poleks see olnud võibolla märkimisväärne puue, kuid väikeses ja seda suletumas, semitotalitaarse ühiskonnakorraldusega ENSVs tähendas see, et Raul Meel ei ole kunstnik. Kunstnikud tulid ERKIst ja kuuulusid Kunstnike Liitu. Mitte nagu Raul Meel. Seega oli Raul Meele astumine Teaduslik Tehnilise Revolutsiooni (TTR) inseneride armeest kunstiavangardi esirinda oluline distsiplinaarne piiririkkumine. Nii ei olnud ette nähtud. Ometi otsustas ta selle meeletu sammu astuda.

II

ULM REALE

Kui on plaanis asuda teekonnale, mille käigus tuleb illegaalina ületada piiri, siis kuidas selleks valmistuda? Võtmesõnaks on sobiv varustus. Reisimoon peab olema maksimaalselt kompaktne. Võimalikult multifunktsionaalne, kokkupandav ja lahtivõetav. Lihtne ja vastupidav. Konverteeritav ja hõlpsasti peidetav. Suurepärane näide on lauake-kata-end, aga ka näiteks šveitsi nuga, magamiskott, pommivöö või kokaiini täis kondoomid. Või ka näiteks kirjutusmasina monospaced-kirjatüüp.

Esimesed teosed, millega Raul Meelel õnnestus 1960ndate lõpul ületada distsiplinaarne piir ja edukalt kunstimaailma välja jõuda, kujutasid endist nn kirjutusmasinajoonistusi.

Kes töötanud erinevates meediumites, teab, et tekst on väga ökonoomne meedium. Teksti tegemine nõuab minimaalselt ressursse ja valmistekst on seejuures äärmiselt kompaktne (laota põrandale laiali Tammsaare kogutud teosed ja sa saad ühe keskmise Valdur Ohaka maastikumaali pinnalaotuse). Võrdsete tähelaiustega monospaced-kirjatüübi kasutamine muudab teksti ka äärmiselt vastupidavaks: et täheruum on kõigi häälikute puhul sama, saab tekstiosiseid vabalt asendada ja ümberkombineerida, ilma et teksti tervikstruktuur laguneks. Ainus, mis sel juhul veel teksti jäigaks ja kohmakaks muudaks, oleks narratiiv. Ja sellest Raul Meel ettenägelikult loobus. Tema kirjutusmasinajoonistuste semantilised üksused on kas morfeemi või sõna, harvem fraasi pikkused, täislauseid kohtab haruharva. Tekstijupikestest või üksikutest kirjamärkidest moodustatud kompositsioonid leidsid 1960ndate-70ndate Eesti kunstiavangardis sooja vastuvõtu ja tõesti, imelisel kombel, insenerist saigi kunstnik.

Suutmata kunstimaailmas siiski püsivalt kanda kinnitada, jäi Meel mitmeks aastakümneks (täpsemalt, aastani 1987) kahe maailma vahele edasi-tagasi sõeluma, töötades Projekteerimisinstituudis insenerina ja osaledes aktiivselt kunstielus. Pidev kahe maailma vahel laveerimine oli kindlasti stressirohke, kuid ka piisavalt tulutoov, lubamaks Raul Meelel kasvatada nii vaimset kui materiaalset sõltumatust. Lisaks tekkis edasi-tagasi üelpiiri-liikumisest arvestatav kogemus, kuni lõpuks suutis Raul Meel koguni terveid insenertehnilisi käsiraamatuid kunstiväljale sisse smugeldada. Kuid see oli alles algus.

Raul Meele teine müüdimõõtu tegu on - ta suutis oma kunsti toimetada läbi raudse eesriide.

ENSV oli oluline illegaalse transiidi keskus. Lisaks märkimisväärsetele heroiinikogustele (vt. Vladimir Wiedemann, “Maagide kool”), liikus üle ENSV piiri kapitalistlikku Läände ka kõige kõrgema avangardisisaldusega kunstiprodukt, mida toonases N Liidus valmistada suudeti. Läänemaailmas oli selle vastu arvestatav nõudlus, kuid ka Nõukogude piirivalve oli valvel: kui varem kasutasid avangardistid võimalust saata oma graafilisi teoseid Läände posti teel, siis 1970ndatel tõhustati kontrolli ja ka graafilisi teoseid sai edaspidi välismaale postitada üksnes eriloa alusel. Oma loometöid üle piiri toimetada õnnestus nüüd vähestel. Räägitakse, et ENSV-s oli üks avatud meelega ametnik, kes aitas kunstiteoseid lihtkirjadeks vormistada. Räägitakse, et see ametnik olla olnud koguni J. K-M. ise (nimi toimetusel teada). Igal juhul läbis hulk ümbrikke kõige kvaliteetsema Nõukogude avangardkunstiga ikkagi takistamatult tolli ja jõudis Läände. Kuid ka see pidu sai läbi. Oli vaja midagi nutikamat välja mõelda.

Raul Meel lävis kohaliku autoriteedi, Tõnis Vindiga, kelle kaudu arenesid välja kontaktid Moskva põrandaaluse kunstimaailmaga. Meel hakkas läbi käima Ülo Soosteri grupeeringuga, nende kaudu tutvus ta Moskva ühe mõjukama allilmaliidri Ilja Kabakoviga. Metropolis koondunud üleliidulise põraandaaluse kunsti võrgustik omas mõningaid hästitoimivaid kontakte Lääne diileritega ja Raul Meel suutis avanenud võimalusi edukalt ära kasutada. Küllap tuli kasuks nii praktiline insenerimõtlemine kui ka varasem kogemus, mis saadud kunsti- ja insenertehnilise maailma vahelise piiri ületuste käigus.

Arusaadavalt suutis aina raudsemaks muutuvast eesriidest läbi lipsata vaid kõige kompaktsemalt pakendatav avangardkunst: seeriapõhine, minimalistlik, abstraktne ja kontseptuaalne. Raul Meele geniaalseimaks leiutiseks antud kontekstis tuleb pidada 1970ndatel alustatud graafilist seeriat “Taeva all”. Teoreetiliselt kuulub seeriasse 5328 graafilist lehte, mis kõik aga on kirjeldatavad üherealise valemi variatsioonidena. Hiiglaslik teos, mida oli võimalik transportida täiesti nähtamatult, ehk nagu Raul Meel ise meenutab: “enda sees, minu peas, minu südames” (vestlus Andres Kurega, 2014). Võis jalutada üle piiri, muretult lasta end tolliametnikel läbi otsida, endal kuustuhat graafilist lehte südames.

Nii juhtuski, et paar lehte sellest seeriast jõudis välja Lääne-Saksamaale, kus need pälvisid 1974 aastal Frecheni graafikatriennaalil II preemia. Seda võitu võibki tinglikult lugeda Raul Meele teise kangelasteo, veelgi imelisema piiriületuse äravormistamiseks.

III

ERE MULLA

Oli ka sissekukkumisi: Raul Meele diilid Sao Paolo Biennaali, MoMA ning Flash Artiga õnnestus Nõukogude korravalvel nurjata. Kuid – tegu oli tehtud, süžee kandis ja pikemas perspektiivis polnud müüdi kulgu väärata enam võimalik. Järgnes see, mis järgnema pidi.

Vladimir Proppi kirjeldusel seisneb imemuinasjutu finaal kangelase ära tundmises, mispeale kangelane asub troonile. Ja tõesti, 1980ndate lõpus tunti Raul Meel viimaks ometi ka kodumaal ära. Järgnes laviinina ametlik tunnustus ning tõus klassikustaatusesse. Raul Meel istus väljateenitud troonile.

Raul Meele viimaste kümnendite loomingu – rituaalsete tuleinstallatsioonide, kunstnikuraamatu “Saalomoni Ülemlaul” jm – kaudu kõnelebki publikuga uus, varasemast kangelasest erinev arhetüüp, kõneleb preester-kuningas. 

Aga see on juba üks teine lugu...

 

Kangelane (foto: Jaan Klõšeiko) 

 
... ja tema teekond

 

Meelevaldne tõlgendus Kuningas Saalomoni ülemlauust.   

Arhetüüpiline preester-kuningas Mesopotaamiast

DIALOOGID LÕPMATUSEGA

Kumu kunstimuuseum, 09.05 – 12-10. 2014

Näitusevaade: Kumu

Antud näituse kohta on raske öelda midagi peale ülivõrrete.

Geniaalne kunstnik – Raul Meel – check. Kindlakäeline kuraatoritöö – Eha Komissarov, Raivo Kelomees – check. Perfektne näitusekujundus – Raul Kalvo, Helen Oja – check. Kaunis kataloog – disainer Tuuli Aule – koos hulga nauditavate esseedega – Eha Komissarov, Raivo Kelomees, Virve Sarapik jt. – check. Tervik, mis on suurem kui eelloetletu summa – check.

Isiklik ahhaa-elamus saabus lugedes kataloogist Eha Komissarovi teksti, kus mulle korraga juhatati kätte seos 20. sajandi avangardi ja metallsõrestikest näitusekujunduse vahel. Peale seda läksn näitust kohe uuesti vaatama.

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Voldi lahti / Unfold

Lükka kokku / Fold back

Invading the Manifesta 10 Invasion

This edition of the biennale is about the art of making compromises, finds anthropologist Francisco Martínez

FIG 1 My friend Ksenia in front of Aslan Gaisumov's Elimination - presented in the parallel exhibition of the Cadet's corpus

Once in Russia, the bus driver turned the mic on and said a laconic ‘congratulations’, which was succeeded by senseless expressions in a language that does not have a dictionary. Probably, he just forgot to turn the mic off, but this liminal experience, at the border between Narva and Ivangorod, made me think about three never ending debates in art practices: 1. Object or effect, what has the primacy? 2. The right to the non-sense. 3. Does the aesthetic phenomenon have a purpose?

St. Petersburg, the city hosting this edition of the European biennale, is a good place to explore the limits of non-sense and the limits of rights. Perhaps this is one of the most interesting points of Manifesta 10 – the way art is looked with suspicion from all sides.

Most of the assessments I heard about Manifesta 10 were not positive. Anders Härm describes it as ‘poorly curated’. Maria Arusoo shares that the exhibitions did not fulfil her expectations, since ‘Manifesta should not act as a museum, it should risk more’. Also Andres Kurg considers that the quality is quite unequal, with some good pieces but a low average level.

FIG 2 Marlene Dumas made a series of ink portraits of great men that happened to be gay

FIG 3 Erik van Lieshout's project for Manifesta focused on the mysterious cats who live in the basement of the Hermitage to dispel rats

Manifesta 10 is not about experimenting, but about the art of making compromises, some of them awkward, as the ‘+16’ signs on the videos warning Russian teens of ‘pervert’ European propaganda. Constrained by political and economic circumstances, the organizers tried to play safe and make compromises on many fronts, managing to include just a few provocative ‘gestures’.

Outstanding works with ‘activist’ touch are Erik van Lieshout and Marlene Dumas’ contributions. M. Dumas prepared a series of delicate ink portraits of great figures, whose achievements can be celebrated above their identification as homosexual men.

Otherwise, E. van Lieshout’s project is so far the most commented among all the art works. At the basement of the Hermitage, there have been cats here since the days of Catherine the Great, keeping the mice down. Van Lieshout spent weeks there building better living quarters for these felines (that obliquely reference to the Pussy Riot). The highlight of this installation is a video in which the Dutch artist shows his subterranean adventures with animals, ghosts and staff members of the great Russian museum (the director appears admitting that he does not like “cats or dogs. Or people”).

Frank Ammerlaan (Dutch artist, currently participating in an exhibition in KUMU) explains it in this way: “Van Lieshout’s work evolves around social and political themes; he is not shy depicting Putin or hinting at Pussy Riot in his large installation. Through a reconstruction of the basement tunnels, mounted with drawings and photographs, you find the video work where the artist himself is the entertaining protagonist asking all sorts of anthropological questions about his role in The Hermitage at Manifesta”.

Other piece that I liked a lot, in spite of not being complete, is Aslan Gaisumov’s ‘Elimination’ (located in the fantastic Cadets’ Corpus, parallel program). This installation is composed of metal gates from Chechnya strewn with bullet holes and lit from behind. As the description explains, gates are a sign of status in Chechnya, designed to be a source of honour (in this case with Olympic motives). The material remaining speaks up forgotten stories in an archaeological way, confirming, once again, that war has no respect for local traditions, people and plans.

I went to the biennale willing to learn from supposedly vanguardist and transgressive ideas; also to get a glimpse of what is going on in contemporary art. After a long and intense weekend visiting exhibitions (well, partying too), I have the feeling of having missed something.

Unfortunately, I did not manage to attend the lectures about ‘art as domestic resistance’ and ‘street poetry’ organised within the Public Program at Marata 33/7 (we were stuck two hours in Narva processing a new visa for me). Also, due to my no skills in Estonian language, I could not learn from the two hours discussion about Manifesta that took place on the bus, coming back from Piter to Tallinn.

FIG 4 Discussing Manifesta 10 on the bus, on the way back

In Narva, the bus driver unexpectedly decided to play on the bus TV an old documentary about the magnificent beauty of Leningrad. Maybe, he was tired of musings on the future of art; or perhaps he just wanted to remark, once again, the threshold of this rite of passage. Later I was told that this already seems to be a common pattern among drivers that go to art events, since in the previous excursion the chauffeur delighted the passengers with several seamen’s songs as if the bus were a karaoke.

My experience visiting this sort of events is very small, so during the weekend I had the feeling of not seeing enough, in spite of running from one spot to another. I have not been in the Hermitage for ten years, so it was grotesque that I dedicated my visit to find contemporary pieces spread out all over the museum, rather than calmly enjoying the collection. Even worse, I did so in an accelerated way: since I had just 45 minutes to see that part of the biennale, I grabbed a volunteer (Alyona) and asked her to help me in my hopeless endeavour. Consequently, I felt like taking part of Alexander Sokurov’s film ‘The Russian Ark’ (2002), yet in a 3x speed, surrounded by people that approached these pieces as a joke and with attendants shouting ‘No photographs!’ and ‘No touching!’ when one comes too close.

In a way, Manifesta 10 might seem to function as a tribute to the Hermitage’s 250 years anniversary – a birthday piñata adapted to the needs and priorities of the museum. But the interplay between foreign expectations, local needs and political and economic circumstances is richer than this. Also, the exhibitions have benefited from being hosted in unique venues.

FIG 5 Ivan Plusch's Process of Passing - Ruins of the Soviet and Post-Soviet eras in 18th century interiors - Displayed at the Cadets' Corpus

In the opinion of Olga Temnikova, it is not possible to understand this Manifesta without paying attention to self-censure, economic issues (local staff had to work without payment for two months) and diverse traditions and expectations. In this sense, Andres Kurg notices that press releases by Manifesta 10 are different in Russian and English language and that the main curator, Kasper König, demonstrates a wide ignorance of Russia and local codes in many of his statements (“the ink on my contract was still wet when that appalling anti-gay law was passed”; or “I was working in a country where there is no civil society”).

This process of translation, negotiation, or interplay, it is exemplarized by a colleague of mine in St. Petersburg, Vladimir, who has progressively changed his view on the biennale:

- The first evening, in a non-officially programmed event, he presented Manifesta 10 as an example of colonialism, accusing the organizers of exhibiting dead Russian artists that would not have agreed in participating in this sort of event and blaming them also for bringing their own crew without establishing much dialog with contemporary local creators.

- The second day, we randomly met in the General Staff building, and then Vladimir acknowledged that there is some ongoing negotiation, which has more value than the quality of the works exhibited. Later, at night, in the official opening organized in the Hermitage (a party with free cocktails of Beluga vodka), Vladimir substitute the word ‘colonialism’ for ‘celebration’.

For Vladimir, Manifesta 10 is being an invasion, yet invasions are not negative in absolute terms. The political and artistic implications within the Russian society are yet to be seen, but this is only one of the many points of interest of the event.

In this regard, I agree with Rebeka Põldsam that to judge Manifesta 10 as toothless and nail-less is naive and vain, since exhibitions have value even if not solving the end of the world crisis. Hence, I prefer the exercise proposed by Rebeka: ‘what if it was in Estonia?’, acknowledging that this Manifesta is particularly close to us (both geographically and culturally), and that these exhibitions are not just another stardust show, but an engaging and inspiring event, an example of negotiation and trans-location that might encourage Estonian artists and institutions to organize the biennale of contemporary art in 2018 or 2020.

Furthermore, the participation of artists like Kristina Norman and the Rundum group, as well as the visit and contacts established through initiatives like the trip organized by the Estonian Centre of Contemporary Art (Thanks Solveig!), help to re-draw the Manifesta 10 territory and, in a way, the art scene of St. Petersburg.

I met people from Estonia in most of the events and places associated with Manifesta 10. In the case of Olga Temnikova, I encountered her at least in 15 different places – almost 5 times per day. In this sense it has been an invasion of the invasion.

Of course, there were also dispiriting points as, for instance, to be forced to suffer police controls and ‘be part’ of the official activities organized for ‘Day of Young People’ at the Palace square, where rappers, skaters and basket players were hired (by the City Hall?) to celebrate youth. But, in a way, this was part of the experience of being in St. Petersburg, as the expensive prices, the canals, and the lively nightlife.

Russia is quite a poly-logical country, and Manifesta 10 is obviously affected by that. Within the biennale, there are not only different worlds coexisting but also parallel galaxies. I noticed that, for instance, in the Garage party that I attended with Andres, my friend Ksenia and Frank’s crew. Good looking people, cool DJ’s, expensive drinks (Andres was unlucky to pay all of them), photographers all over the place... Moscow high-society after all, that considers a coincidence to meet in the art-fashion parties, independently if taking place in London, Berlin or Piter.

FIG 6 Selfie at the Garage party - courtesy of Andres Kurg

FIG 7 Garage party nearby a Giorgio Armani shop - courtesy of Andres Kurg

Overall, to be contemporary is linked with not feeling good with your contemporaneity, with the world we live in. In other words, a search of something else that does not exist at the moment. If we take this way of discerning, most of the works exhibited in Manifesta 10 were not contemporary. Indeed, Henri Matisse (exhibited at the General Staff Building) seemed to be more contemporary than many of the ‘fresh’ contributions. Likewise, when facing certain works (as for instance, those by Vladislav Mamyshev-Monroe), I rhetorically asked what the f*ck is this stuff doing here. Also, the never-ending glorification of the 80’s underground art in Leningrad was annoying, becoming a bit tiring, if not stinky. Yes, Kuryokhin, Novikov, Tsoi and Grebenshikov were great, but one cannot feed oneself for 30 years always with the same meal. Indeed, this might be a symptom that art practice has not moved forward much from that time in Russia. Or perhaps, it is rather a sign of Manifesta staff’s colonialism and the lack of knowledge of what is going on nowadays in that city, in that country.

All in all, Manifesta 10 deserves a visit, particularly by those living on the other side of the Narva River. Besides the list of big names, such as Joëlle Tuerlinckx, Thomas Hirschhorn, Ilya and Emilia Kabakov, Joseph Beuys, Gerhard Richter and Kazimir Malevich, we can also find artists such as Pavel Pepperstein, Lado Darakhvelidze, Ivan Plusch or Deimantas Narkevičius, as well as parallel events with different degree of artistic interest and critical engagement. Is that enough? Probably not, but it is worth to see it and to host it. Let us believe that art resides in the attempt, and not always in the result/product.

FIG 8 Gerhard Richter Ema, Akt auf einer treppe exhibited in the Hermitage yet forbidden by Facebook pornography policy

FIG 9 Ugolovnik by Pavel Pepperstein

 

I almost forgot it, but during the weekend we have also talked about the non convenience of boycotting and about Chto delat? This Russian art group had the difficult task of taking a single final position, caught in between the demanded coherence of critical discourses, the political decisions and practices of Putin’s regime, the binary approach of Western institutions and the diverse expectations of its members and audience. In this regard, most of the people agree that communication and interaction function better than boycott; likewise, Manifesta 10 serves as a platform to engage, participate and contrast ideas, even if a limited and contradictory one. In this sense, I take it as a social laboratory, particularly valuable because of the ongoing negotiations between local and foreign agents and the cultural implications of this interplay. Let us remember that Crimea, Anti-LGBT Laws and Political repression are hardly discussed in Russian institutions and media; and let us not forget that Manifesta 10 provokes reflexion and debates, not aggression.

This biennale of contemporary art brought to my mind thoughts on transgression, on an escalating sense of obsolescence, on the need to defy traditional classifications and free from power structures, on the need of awkward compromises in order to make visible what has been silenced, on the anxiety of not seeing enough, on re-creations, expectations and the expiry date of art-works, on the process of living, on repositioning ideas, on borders as transition, on the value of connections and mobilization (rather than conflicts and insensitivity), and, overall, on the contradictions of cultural work.

We arrived in Tallinn at midnight. Walking home under the rain I felt I had learned about contemporary art and not only.

FIG 10 Kristina Norman's Souvenir, courtesy of K. Norman

* This article is a quick description of the trip to the opening of Manifesta 10, organized by the Estonian Centre of Contemporary Art. The biennale of contemporary art features over 50 artists from nearly 30 countries and is complemented by an array of performances, public programs, and education projects. For more information, visit Manifesta home page.

Voldi lahti / Unfold

Lükka kokku / Fold back

Kilometre of Sculpture, opening day

On Saturday, 28th of June when most of the Estonian art world was packed into one bus and heading to St Petersburg to attend opening of Manifesta, something else took place - opening of the out-door exhibition Kilometre of Sculpture in Rakvere. It is a brainchild of Michael Haagensen and this year curatorial team consisted Niekolaas Johannes Lekkerkerk + Rebeka Põldsam, Marie Vellevoog, and Merilin Talumaa. Short travel guide brought to you by Maarin Mürk.


So, lets jump right in:
(because all the official stuff like quite ambitious project description, history of the idea, curatorial statement, practicalities, process etc you can read here: http://sculpture.ee/)
(and proper art world type of interview you could read here: http://arterritory.com/en/news/3720-the_kilometre_of_sculpture_in_rakvere)

What is good about it:
- Public art / land-art / out-door installation (however you name it) could always flourish more in Estonia, so it is very welcomed initiative to support this kind of practices here and bring together artists from whatever field interested in creating works in public space. Not only from Estonia, but also regional and why not, from anywhere in the world.
- Connections with Baltoscandal - it gave it most fruitful "site-specificity", expressed as a quite logical theme or guideline in curatorial statement: KoS works can be read as "staged" - staging a situation, view, motion etc. Connecting this new initiative with established on means more to see and do for this mixture of visual art / theatre / performing arts etc audiences who visit Rakvere during this week / weekend.
- Which brings to another good thing about it - time to get yourself together and leave Tallinn and Tartu white cubes behind! Estonian art world always have had events during the summer somewhere outside usual trajectories, which pushes art world little bit out of its comfort zone and hopefully KoS will be one of the new "drawing-centres".
- It is all in all playful and accessible experience. Works are easy to grasp, but at the same time nifty, so it is certainly good communicator with wider audience. They could induce good conversations, but can also be viewed only on a pure entertainment mode.

One could always ask for more works, tighter selection, longer opening period etc, but hey! it was great excuse for a day trip and completely satisfying as that - art works in specific environment to explore and to discover. Recommended.


Before you find KoS - there is an exhibition worth visiting in Rakvere gallery: "Witnessing / Mirroring the Nameless" by Henri Hütt and Evelyn Raudsepp.

When does something becomes valuable enough to name it (and to tame it with that), ask the artists? Collection of lieu`s and non-lieu`s, within surprising environment. Together with super sweet guardian of that particular lieu.



But walk further and there are signs of KoS becoming more visible ...

Tomi and Vesa Humalisto (Findland). The Thin Red Line.

It will probably be one of the most popular works in KoS - attractive, simple gesture, playful and eye-catching from a distance and from a close-up a like. Who wouldn’t like big red balloons, nicely following the curvature of old castle hills?

For those who enjoy moving images:

Gundega Evelona (LV). Cloud.


Recommended setting for the following video is 1080p HD, otherwise too many pixels!

Anastasia Parmson (EE). Straight Line.

Reminds of all the great land art works that mark the territory around them in a delicate way, not intruding rapidly into it. Great work to show that in order to embrace the space one doesn’t need to build something huge and resource-consuming - well-targeted take can do all the work and provide fresh look at the surrounding.

Kristin Reiman (EE). Shower Stage.

The singing stage, obligatory element in all Estonian towns hosts during the KoS another stage - everything is set ready for trying out the cliché of "singing under the shower". Narrow bathroom has expanded under the summer sun, breeze gently moving the curtains, while public and private experiences mix.

Minna Pöllänen (FI). Platform.

Desire to see something not graspable for bare eye allures walkers to try out those spyglasses...only to found world as we know it.




Pire Sova (EE). Transision Site.

One of the favourite works, randomness as a statement, bluntly installed, makes one smirk.


 

Patrik Aarnivaara (SE). Pan-Retention (after Edwin S Porter)

Arthur Arula (EE). Mute Swan (detail)

Streets of Rakvere (detail)

Rakvere (cobble stones and extravagant architecture; detail)

A tree - could be listed as great land art piece, monumental and engrossing and so on.



Flo Kasearu (EE). Landscape Painting.

One of the most strongest works in KoS - painting that was first installed to Flo Kasearu House Museum courtyard in order to cover the ugly view of new buildings in her milieu-valuable neighbourhood, works even more apocalyptic level in this small church. It looks like a miracle has happened, the Flood exposes itself to the sinned ones during hot summer days when nothing seems to predict the divine catastrophe already bound to happen. This divine vaticination takes suitably place exactly in this simple and rather humble house of God, out of religious capitals, like proving that God is really everywhere. Like art.



Some additionally peculiar installative foundlings from a same location: 

Take it easy!

Water park tubes, stretching out of the building - could be also listed as architectural installation, if you now look at them suspiciously through KoS glasses! Reminds to local out-door art lovers for example Tetsuo Kondo "A Path in the Forest"?

And while in Rakvere - don`t forget to remind yourself how wild and weird does city central square looks like, created by architectual company "Kosmos"!.

Some street art from Rakvere as well - creative scratching of political advertisement-boards. Layers, layers, layers and at the end of the it is all still there, buried.

And - greetings from Rakvere food store to Sigrid Viir and to her series of Routinecrusher, Wanderlust, Tablebear, and so on (2009–11)! New members adding, perhaps - Sausage Modeller?



Finally our walk through Rakvere got crowned by box Estonian strawberries - there are very good salesman in Rakvere, so instead of buying a kilo, you might end up with three!

Voldi lahti / Unfold

Lükka kokku / Fold back

Kulinaarkriitika. Kim? Elza Sīle ja Väike Vera

Kulnaarkriitik Markus Toompere käis Riias ja sattus Kim?-is kahele näitustele:

Elza Sīle "Enlarging Original"
13.06.-28.07.2014
ja
"Little Vera" Sanya Kantarovsky, Ella Kruglyanskaya.
Curated by Zane Onckule
13.06.-27.07. 2014

NATO toidupakk nr 2 on kõikidele sõduritele tuntud kui üks halb nali, nimelt on seal pearoaks maksakaste. Üldiselt ma jumaldan maksa, see on minu meelest üks põnev kuid veidi alahinnatud tooraine, millest on võimalik teha võrratuid roogasid. Kuid antud juhul on maksaga tehtud midagi kujuteldamatult jubedat. See ei ole pelk ütlus, vaid olen praktikas ka ise korduvalt kogenud, et sõdur ei pirtsuta, vaid sööb mida antakse. Nii on. Ent NATO toidupaki maksakaste kõlbab vaid üheks - mahamatmiseks. Peale esimest korda sedasinast maksakastet proovides jõudsin järeldusele, et nälgimisel pole ka suurt midagi viga. 
Igatahes olen ma arvamusel, et sellised tigedad naljad sõdurite kulul ei kõlba kuhugi.

Markus Toompere
Kulinaarkriitik

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Kulinaarkriitika - Maalikunsti eriala lõputööde näitus

Kulinaarkriitik Markus Toompere mekkis Tartu Ülikooli maalikunsti eriala lõpetjate näitust Tartu Kunstimajas.

Vaatasin Kunstimajas lõpetajate tööd üle - tegu on värskekapsasupiga. Suhteliselt igav ja etteaimatav, selline, mida vanaema tegi, keegi seda väga ei oodanud, aga samas süüa kõlbas. Ega vanaema ise ka väga ei vaimustunud seda tehes, lihtsalt mingit sorti vanakooli kohusetunne sundis teda aegajalt seda keetma. Juba lapsest saati hämmastas mind, et kuidas vanaema suudab erinevaid koostisosasid kokku pannes alati ühe ja sama maitse välja võluda.

Üldjoontes on suppidega nii, et kui nad päeva seisavad, siis lähevad nad paremaks, värskekapsasupp on selles osas erand, see läheb iga järgneva päevaga kehvemaks. Teine fenomen värskekapsa supiga oli see, et mingil põhjusel ükski koer seda ei söönud. Kõike seda öelnult on mul igatahes kapsasupi isu.


Markus Toompere
Kulinaarkriitik

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