In this exhibition, all images are imitations without stylization and interpretation. I tried not to have the author, art and aesthetics in the pictures. These words belong to the artist Arturas Bērziņas, but they are not found in the latest gallery Art XO exhibitions to be viewed Trees grow where they are allowed; trees grow as they are allowed in the annotation, but in the master’s thesis of the author Untitled (Folk Romanticism)which was defended in the Painting Department of the Latvian Academy of Arts in 2009. Returning to nature as a reaction to some oppressive and outdated conventions is nothing new in the history of art: it seemed interesting both to the neo-romantics of the beginning of the 20th century and, for example, to the so-called French group (Bruno Vasilevskis, Imants Lanczmanis, Maija Tabaka and others) already in the 60s , when observations of the nearest reality turned out to be an alternative to cleverly modernized interpretations of socialist realism.
Access to nature and reality in a broader sense has been consistently implemented by Arturs Bērziņš in the format of small scenic charcoal technique works, earning multiple nominations for the Purvīša prize and attention in the local art life. However, it would not be correct to generalize the approach of Arturas Bērzis as simply naive exercises in mimesis. In several exhibitions (Works of the mind2013; Pictorial works I–II (2015–2016)) the author also played with graphic tools close to conceptualism and avant-garde experiences, supplementing images with texts and visually reflecting on the works of René Descartes, Isaiah Berlin, Ludwig Wittgenstein and other thinkers of the past.
Consequences of natural disasters
The latest exhibition does not offer to interpret philosophers’ treatises, and the first hall of the gallery demonstrates exactly what is included in the title – trees in their natural environment. The black-and-white or slightly warm-toned paintings can initially confuse the viewers, making them wonder if they are looking at a photo-realistic painting made after or imitating a photograph, or at the photograph itself? As the descriptions of the works (wood, canvas, gesso, photo of the author, silver gelatin copy, toning, etc.) show, in most cases the result is really somewhere in the middle between the two types of art. Namely, a kind of supplemented, toned photo with layers of watercolor, charcoal, graphite, but in some cases also without them.
In the layout of the works, if you obey the usual logic of starting from the left side, you can read a certain dramaturgical progression from order to chaos and again at least a hint of order at the end. Tall and upright trees on the edges of fields and clearings are followed by scenes of a forest thicket with criss-cross bent trunks, suggesting the effects of natural elements. They form impressive diagonal crosses and tree sections levitating in chaos in various directions, reminiscent of Suprematist abstract paintings. However, the final scene is structured in perspective by a passing symmetry, disturbed only by one fallen trunk. The author recorded the scenes in his native Olaine county, specifically describing the place in question, e.g. The edge of the field in Pārolaine in Olaine county in the 21st century. In the 1920s, Mežs near the Cena canal road in the Olaine district in the 21st century. in the 20s or Forest near the Black Lake marsh in Olaine county, 21st century. in the 20s. The idea that there is not much “author, art and aesthetics” in these scenes may seem appropriate enough, attesting to a certain persistence of creative pursuits over a longer period of time.
Sunny Olaine
However, in the Dome Hall, this seemingly simple task of capturing nature changes quite a bit, and trees no longer really play the main role here either. Instead of Olaine’s natural forests, there are manipulated photographs of Olaine’s city landscapes, in which Soviet functionalist buildings are complemented by the “sunshine of Soviet Latvian artists” and “trees of architects”, as the author formulated these insets. The elements of visual culture added with colored pencils and acrylic paints remind of the specifically Soviet history of the town.
Anyone who spent at least part of their conscious life in the Soviet Union will remember the popular song from Russian to Latvian May there always be sunshine…which started its victory march in 1962. Clichés about “sunny childhood” generously filled the space of Soviet culture, and the note of optimism associated with sunny weather was a sufficiently important criterion of “correct” art, although impressionistic plein-airism reached its apogee in the mid-1950s and was later replaced by other trends.
However, there was no shortage of personified suns with smiling faces in illustrations and monumental art. Arturs Bērziņš has found such, for example, in the works of illustrator Dagmāras Staprenas and stained glass artist Indulis Zilbalož, as well as in a sample of brotherly Azerbaijan. On the other hand, the authors of other suns have stuck to a more abstract expression, which allows us to read the impressions of modernization. Edgar Iltner’s minimalistic linear sun and moon, Ęirt Vilk’s expressively broken narrow-angle style, graphic artist Gunārs Kroļļ’s rational zigzag circle and graphic artist Dzidra Ezergaile’s densely expressive swirling ornamentation, Jānis Oš’s iridescent circle in the spirit of Orphism and Ilmārs Blumberg’s black (eclipsed?) sun make it possible to clearly recognize the Latvian artist the varied handwriting. These, of course, are not examples of Olaine’s origin; Arturs Bērziņš has also pointed out the original sources of the sun in many places, such as the Daugavpils pioneer house, the reading room of the Jaunķemeri sanatorium, or the decor of the 39th secondary school in Riga. On the other hand, the “architect trees”, which are not specified according to the authors, are revealed as “implants” of linear structures, made in conventional circles, spirals, amorphous bubbles, faceted many corners and other forms.
In general, these supplemented photographs can provoke a certain nostalgic or nostalgic retrospection about the system permeated by sunny utopianism, in the creation of which both architects and artists inevitably participated. The two halls of the gallery can also be read as a certain confrontation between untouched nature and artificial civilization. Whether the visual manifestations of this civilization today seem absurd and ridiculous or still associated with their optimistic pathos remains a question to be pondered.
Arturs Berzins
Exhibition Trees grow where they are allowed; trees grow as they are allowed
In the gallery Art XO until 26.X
Art Exhibition Review: Trees Grow Where They Are Allowed; Trees Grow as They Are Allowed
Ah, welcome to the world of Arturs Bērziņš! An artist who makes us question – is he painting or is he just a fancy photographer who’s forgotten how to hold a camera correctly? This exhibition *Art XO* is like that friend who insists they can replicate anything but can only manage a blurry Polaroid of the dog. Let’s dive in, shall we?
The Imitation Game
The exhibition is quite the conundrum, presenting images without stylization or interpretation—an imitation of sorts, but without the embellishments that make us go “ooh” and “ahh.” Bērziņš states, “Trees grow where they are allowed; trees grow as they are allowed.” Quite the tagline! Makes you wonder if he’s talking about trees or just what happens when you leave your kids unsupervised in the garden.
His previous thesis, Untitled (Folk Romanticism), pulls us back to 2009. It’s almost nostalgic, like when you stumble upon your high school diary and question all your life choices. Nature’s return in art is hardly groundbreaking—lots of neo-romantics in the ‘20s, and who can forget that French group in the ’60s? They were practically waving ‘hello’ from their rustic treehouses while we were all trapped in the concrete jungle.
Black & White or Color Me Confused?
Bērziņš uses small scenic charcoal works that snag him praises and nominations like he’s at an art award show. But let’s not get too comfy. His exhibitions may flirt with the realms of mimesis, but they waltz into conceptualism and, yes, avant-garde territory—because why not throw in some chaos for good measure? We all have that chaotic friend who insists on bringing vegan snacks to a BBQ. Where’s the joy in that?
Through the Trees and Into the Chaos
Now, the first hall of the exhibition is a visual buffet—if you squint, it’s a photo, but if you open your eyes wide, it’s a painting, or is it a good ol’ messy mixture of both? Here, Bērziņš exposes us to trees in their natural habitats, transitioning from tall and proud trees to a forest thick with, quite frankly, too much drama for my taste. It’s like an Instagram feed gone wrong—overexposed to the point where you question what you’ve seen: Was that a dog or a mythological creature?
Sunny Disposition or Soviet Sun?
The Dome Hall arrives, and suddenly nature isn’t the diva anymore. It’s been replaced with *manipulated photographs* of cityscapes that scream Soviet nostalgia like an over-zealous history professor. Ah, remember those days of “May there always be sunshine…?!” It’s a sunny song that’s stuck in everyone’s head like an earworm. What’s more nostalgic than a single sunny childhood memory embedded in the rubble of a post-war building?
Bērziņš intertwines color pencils with Soviet architecture to develop a new brand of sunshine—like a three-legged dog trying to run in a straight line; you’re rooting for it, but you can’t help but laugh a little. It’s wonderfully absurd and utterly hilarious at the same time, provoking recollections of a system wrapped in utopian sunshine.
The Final Ponder
Ultimately, this exhibition sets up a duel between the untouched flair of nature and the cracked, painted impostor of civilization that feels more like a theater production than life itself. Are these nostalgic memories a reminder of laughter amid the absurdities of our history? Or are we chuckling because we’ve lost our way? As you ponder, remember to check out the exhibition before it closes on October 26!
