Art outreach for the friendship of cities
One man alone is no warrior. The partners who have joined forces for this two-year art project — the Klaipėda Culture Communication Centre together with the Baltic Branch of the National Centre for Contemporary Arts (Kaliningrad, Russia) and the Łaźnia Centre for Contemporary Art (Gdańsk, Poland) — are seeking new opportunities for creators and a stronger impact on public life, in which art currently receives rather little attention.

On 3 May, the Kaliningrad art panorama “Made in Kaliningrad” opened at the Exhibition Hall of the Klaipėda Culture Communication Centre (KCCC) — the real start of the international project “Close Stranger: fostering mutual understanding between the residents of Gdańsk, Kaliningrad and Klaipėda by promoting exchange in the field of contemporary art and culture”, begun this year and running until the end of 2014, with the substantial ambition of presenting to Klaipėda the contemporary art achievements of Kaliningrad — geographically close, yet, because of geopolitical and bureaucratic circumstances, quite distant. More concentrated, “pinpoint” art presentations will follow later.

The project is supported by the Lithuania–Poland–Russia European Neighbourhood and Partnership Instrument Cross-border Cooperation Programme 2007–2013. The aim of the programme is to promote economic and social development in the border regions of the European Union (EU) and Russia by addressing common problems and challenges and by encouraging cooperation between neighbouring peoples. Under this programme, non-profit organisations from the border regions of Lithuania and Poland and from the whole Kaliningrad region implement joint projects financed from EU and Russian Federation funds.

A historic event
According to the organisers, the exhibition “Made in Kaliningrad”, which features 18 artists and artist groups from the Kaliningrad region (Russian Federation), is the first presentation of contemporary art from this region on such a large scale in Lithuania. Jelena Cvetajeva, director of the branch of the National Centre for Contemporary Arts that prepared the exhibition, did not conceal that this was a considerable challenge. “This event gives meaning to all 15 years of the branch’s work,” she said.

Curator Jevgenij Umanskij spent about five months selecting the works for the exhibition. The period it covers spans the last 14 years. According to the curator, he sought to present as many different reflections and authorial strategies as possible. In this project, J. Umanskij says, there is wisdom, contemporary feminism, philosophical insights on the theme of death, politics, social issues, personal tragedies and everyday details.

In terms of composition, he said, it was important to show the different generations of Kaliningrad artists. “I noticed one peculiarity — many young authors, despite their youth, boldly attempt to speak about great and significant matters: about death, about the end of time. They do it far more easily than those who grew up in the Soviet era,” the curator said.

In his view, it is hardly meaningful to speak about Kaliningrad art in the context of Russian art. On a human level, the residents of Kaliningrad feel cut off from greater Russia, where a considerable share of the city’s present-day young people — who more often choose European Union countries for their travels — have never even been. “For many reasons, people in Kaliningrad do not feel that we belong to Russia, despite the common language and the human ties cultivated on an individual level. On the other hand, we are still marking time and hesitating to decide where to move — East or West,” said J. Umanskij.

Dignified and enterprising
The range of genres presented in the exhibition includes video and sound installations, objects, photography and so on. There is almost no echo of the traditional academic school, and this is a Kaliningrad characteristic: the city has no higher or specialised art school, and most creators come to this field from other professions and, for understandable reasons, more often choose topical modern media that can be mastered quickly thanks to functional literacy, creating photo and video installations.

The branch of the National Centre for Contemporary Arts based in the city, which organised this exhibition together with the KCCC, is nevertheless very active.

Its head J. Cvetajeva, who also takes part in the exhibition as an artist, said that a moment came when she had to give up her own creative work because of her responsibility for the organisation and for the processes of art dissemination and education that it promotes.

Russia’s first contemporary art centre was established in Moscow in 1992 by decision of the Ministry of Culture. From 1995 its branches began to be set up in the regions; the third of them appeared in Kaliningrad. “The process was inspired by activity ‘from below’ — in all the cities where branches were created there really were energetic people who wanted to develop this field,” said J. Cvetajeva.

Until 2007–2008 the branch received regular funding from the Ministry of Culture, which was enough for office rent, equipment purchases and modest salaries. The team has long been used to earning money for art itself, ever since it was founded, and to this day does not abandon the search for additional funding.

“Contemporary art is expensive, especially if you want to present it well,” the guest said. From this point of view, the cross-border cooperation programme’s contribution to the project, amounting to EUR 768.8 thousand and 88 per cent of its total value, has been an excellent support. In Klaipėda alone, three large international exhibitions will be held during the project, not counting the many events that will accompany them.

Femme fatale with a shoe brush
At the opening, Jevgenija Lapteva, dressed in femme fatale style and a member of the artists’ group “Nežnyje baby” (Russian for “Tender Broads”), offered to clean the men’s shoes. “A cultured person must have clean footwear, must they not? I have performed this piece in St Petersburg. My experience shows that men never refuse,” the journalist and artist said, laughing at the double meanings.

In one of the group’s video installations presented at the exhibition, a girl dressed in white (her colleague Aleksandra Artamonova) tries to break the ice of a frozen lake with her own body. According to the artists, the work speaks of futile efforts and of a femininity that nobody needs. Yet although the duo, which has existed since 2007, has not sold a single one of its works, Jevgenija is not inclined to identify herself with this heroine. On the other hand, the young artist cannot imagine living anywhere but Kaliningrad, or working with anyone but her like-minded colleague.

“Perhaps the Baltic scenery is to blame, but when I travel far from home I miss the sea, the pines, the amber. And I cannot imagine creating without the company of my colleague Aleksandra Artamonova,” she said.

The Kaliningrad artist, who calls herself a contemporary artist, always wanted to become a painter, but when she finished secondary school there was no opportunity to study an artistic speciality in her home city. “I did not even consider leaving for elsewhere and enrolled to study journalism, although these are no easy times for art publications either,” said J. Lapteva. The group founded with a fellow student opened up a new dimension of activity. The artists’ creative output consists of performances and video installations, but during the project they hope to be involved in public art activities. “After all, performance and actionism can also play with the memory of society,” J. Lapteva reflected.

The artist, who does not shy away from provocative themes, said that curators’ insights often surprise her — especially with regard to political context. “Last February a premonition of the so-called white revolution was in the air in Russia. And we have a video installation in which women dressed in white wade into mud. Little by little the dresses soak it up, become heavy and finally fall off altogether, while the women go on wallowing in the mud as if searching for something… By the curator’s will this work was included in an exhibition devoted to political themes, which was unexpected for us. One must listen to the curator — he is the artist’s best friend,” she summed up.

Pagan roots
In the foyer of the Exhibition Hall the visitor is met by Aleksandr Podoprigorov’s video installation, in which a seemingly eccentric man recounts, in stream-of-consciousness style, the story of his arrival in Kaliningrad. Until 1996 there were two cities of that name on Russian territory: one near Moscow, the other in the Baltic region. Having received his posting to Kaliningrad, he did not expect to end up in the latter.

According to A. Podoprigorov, this work is documentary. “We were shooting a film which, incidentally, was in the end never shown anywhere, when suddenly this man appeared and out of the blue began telling his story. I was holding a camera in my hand and turned it on him. Afterwards I only edited it, added views of old Königsberg and sound effects in place of the swear words,” the guest said.

A. Podoprigorov himself, now 40, is an engineer by training, but has worked in the field of video art since 2001. “In general I work on a commercial basis, but on average once every three years I make one film that falls within the spectrum of contemporary art. Incidentally, if you create nothing for yourself, in time your commercial work will become dull, because you will no longer be able to find novelty and put in some ‘soul’. In my art works I do not avoid rather gloomy themes and expression, because of which I have found myself at the centre of attention at events abroad over supposedly satanist beliefs, but I have nothing to do with that. I like paganism; in the territory of Prussia this is natural and familiar, I have travelled to the old cult sites and seen various transcendental things, so I know what I am talking about,” he explained.

Ksenija Uranova, who lives in Poland, presents at the exhibition the photo installation “Artillery Street”, documenting the realities of the outskirts of Kaliningrad where the artist’s childhood and youth were spent. “The street was called that in the German period and in the Soviet era, and it has kept the name to this day. From childhood I remember abandoned tanks, soldiers’ barracks and pigsties — they used to raise pigs here, which they then ate themselves. My friends would dig up military cables, burn out the copper and sell it, and buy vodka with the money… The social environment was not a good one. Coming here I feel no nostalgia — this street is neither beautiful nor valuable. But it was interesting to record it; the newly appeared graffiti caught my eye,” said K. Uranova.

The young woman, who has lived abroad for a number of years, is in no hurry to identify herself with the breed of artists — more precisely, she is no longer inclined to identify herself in any way at all. “I divide contemporary art into design and shit. Both are relevant. One is beautiful and stylish, the other is an expression of our problems. Art for art’s sake has become tiresome,” she said.

Balancing the situation
Several women artists will also take part in the international project from the large group that opened the exhibition “Post-Idea II. Restoration Works” on the first floor of the Exhibition Hall, reflecting exclusively the work of women creators.

Giedrė Lilienė, Laura Garbštienė, Jurga Barilaitė, Eglė Ridikaitė, Paulina Eglė Pukytė, Eglė Gineitytė, Aistė Kisarauskaitė, Laisvydė Šalčiūtė, Beatričė Vanagaitė, Laura Zala, Marta Vosyliūtė, Karla Gruodis, “Cooltūristės” and Shaltmira presented works from different periods and of different genres at the exhibition.

Laura Zala presents at the exhibition a conceptual publication — the anthology “Gulbė pati” (“The Swan Herself”), which she compiled from present-day fairy tales: internet comments on hot topical issues. “The idea was born the other way round — the fourth edition of the fairy-tale collection “Gulbė karaliaus pati” (“The Swan, the King’s Wife”), published last year, drew attention to the half-forgotten meaning of the word ‘pati’ — ‘wife’. Today we simply do everything ourselves,” laughed Laura Zala. “I created the cover and then content was needed. The comments were begging to be used. So all that remained was to find the publications that attract the most reactions.” A counterweight to the twists of politics and the paedophilia scandal turned out to be an article about the traditional schoolchildren’s song festival, which on one of the most popular portals did not receive a single comment…

Eglė Ridikaitė used aerosol paints and silicone to lay out on a spacious canvas an image of the Statue of Liberty inspired by personal events. “When we gathered a year later to prepare the second “Post-Idea” and were talking about the theme of flight, a thought came: last year, after the opening of our exhibition, a friend living in the USA died, who had invited my friend Jurga and me to visit him. That is how the inscription was born: ‘You will not see her again, and Jurga and I will not visit you there’,” the author told the story of the panel.

“If it does not turn out the way it often does with women artists and women’s organisations, which unite enthusiastically and break up just as emotionally, we will repeat the project next year as well,” said curator Laima Kreivytė. “The charm of this formation is that it is not an organised group put together according to artistic or ideological principles, a feminist worldview or any other criteria.”

The decision to hold a women’s exhibition was prompted by the situation of Lithuanian art: although there are many women artists and they are active, it does not fall to the fair sex to represent the country’s creative forces at the highest level. “There are reproaches that feminist ideas are uninteresting, irrelevant. What does ‘irrelevant’ mean? You cannot single out gender if the position of the sexes is the same. And if it is not, the situation needs balancing,” said L. Kreivytė.

Momentum — to the benefit of all creators
Ignas KAZAKEVIČIUS, Director of the KCCC
While the city’s institutions were being optimised and the KCCC was being merged with the Exhibition Hall, we were asked when we would demonstrate obvious results. I said in three years. That term has now passed, and I feel I have kept my promise. Last year, having carried out a project with the French curator Nicolas Bourriaud, we entered global waters in a certain sense, and as this year’s event I would name this “structural merger” with three neighbouring art centres, with regions facing similar problems. Practically every creator working in Klaipėda will take part in the project, and we are also involving artists from other cities in the country. In September the project will reach its culmination in Klaipėda: there will be a sound art festival, public art events, and artists gathered from different countries and cities will work in residencies. After the international art expeditions planned for the summer in search of new cultural routes, we hope to enliven the tired tourist trails and to leave new artistic signs in the city. In December, Gdańsk art will be presented in Klaipėda. We wrote the project in 2010 and waited a year and a half for an answer. Programmes such as this help us to survive and reveal the advantage of flexible partnership over a permanent relationship of subordination to the country’s centre.

Valerija Lebedeva