The exhibition was dedicated to “uncomfortable and often ignored aspects of the history of the Baltic states and neighboring countries”. The curators explored “the interweaving of past and present, exploring how visual art and creative research methods can reveal the lasting impact of historical events and change today’s understanding of the past” (from the exhibition website).
My works at all stages of this exhibition were different, adapted to a specific exhibition space, but everywhere working in a similar way: using the unconscious participation of the exhibition visitors. The Tallinn exhibition took place on the outskirts of the city, in the Soviet-era apartment block Lasnamae – it is here that a bright pink temporary art pavilion was placed a few years ago (while the central Tallinn Exhibition Hall is being reconstructed) in order to bring art closer to those residents who do not go to the center and do not visit galleries. .
My installation “Unmoving” in Tallinn’s Lasnamae district is a “shadow” that is not actually cast by a nearby high-rise residential building. The artificial shadow is formed from a black carpet previously used at some event (such carpets are usually thrown away after only one use), which I placed on a busy pedestrian bridge near the art pavilion. Thus, my piece moved from the exhibition space to the city space and included in the (not quite conscious) experience not only the visitors of the exhibition, but also the random passers-by who (un)intentionally stepped on the carpeted “shadow” or rode on bicycles or scooters, or intentionally went around The carpet, normally located somewhere inside, here appeared outside, and the ephemeral and ever-changing shadow took on materiality and tactility and became ominously still. Threatening, because if the shadow does not move, then the “source of light” that causes it does not move either – stuck in time (therefore – already in the past), the eternal promise of a better tomorrow, the savior “dawn”, or maybe the “man-sun”?
A few days before the opening of the exhibition, while it was being installed, this piece took on another interesting aspect – it became directly interactive: random passers-by (mostly local residents) stopped and wondered what would be here. When I said art, to my great surprise, all but one of the questioners responded positively: “Art? Great. Is this from that gallery?”. No one said “nonsense, what art is this” or anything like that. One middle-aged man gave advice on how to better fit the carpet to the asphalt and offered to help. An elderly woman went and bought all the installers ice cream because it was a hot day. Two boys of about twelve years old came up and asked if they could have pieces of that carpet for their “studio walls”. Another elderly woman, after we left for a while, picked up a piece of the carpet and took it home. I’m not kidding – I quite liked that kind of interaction. At one point, muscular tattooed men with ominous faces began to circle around. One of them came over to ask what we were doing here. When he heard that it was fine, he said in a friendly way “then we won’t disturb you” and left. Local drunkards also introduced themselves. One lay down on the carpet for a while, and the other went and brought his girlfriend, who also asked what was going to be here. When I said that it was art, he replied in all seriousness with something like “art saves the world”, wished me luck and opened his fist to a friendly thump. Although there is a lot of doubt in Tallinn whether the residents of this area really visit the pink exhibition pavilion, I think that people’s reactions like this show that it does have an effect. By the way, the municipality of Tallinn gave permission for such an artistic intervention very easily, and even agreed with another company that a whole row of flower pots would be pulled from the bridge for the occasion.
I’m thinking: what would it be like in Vilnius? Would there be similar reactions from passers-by here, or the opposite? And elsewhere in Lithuania? This year, the art of public spaces also brought me to Klaipėda, where the exhibition “Reiškinys M” of contemporary art in public spaces, organized by the Klaipėda Cultural Communication Center and curated by me, is now open. Thanks to KKKC and “Reiškinio M”, a bright (red-orange) cultural point also appeared in Klaipėda: the former solid fuel supply building of the Klaipėda thermal power plant became the letter M (city, art, science, love, Mēmelis) and an exhibition space. But will it survive as a new functioning cultural object? Although this was the initial idea, and continuity was initially sought, there is no support for this either from the city or, apparently, from the cultural institutions.
I started this artistic project in Klaipėda at the beginning of the year, just at the time when Klaipėda Municipality’s communication on cultural policy topics received a lot of criticism. That time, even the Minister of Culture went to explain why things are so bad there. But won’t all this be like water from a seagull for Klaipėda? In general, my experience in Klaipėda is as follows: the city (I do not mean the residents, but the city as a (self) regulating institution) not only does not love and appreciate art, but also does not respect it and its creators. What’s more, the city is afraid of art. No, not the mostly kitschy “sculptural urban accents” and not the mostly kitschy street art murals. What are you afraid of? Temporary professional contemporary art interventions in public spaces: “Is that all there is?” Where is the art? Where were all those thousands of euros spent? What if people don’t understand that this is art and are misled? What if the descriptions of the works are untrue?”.
What is the answer to such questions? First of all: artists and curators are professionals in their field and should be trusted just like professionals in any field, especially those with a lot of experience (this answer of mine was also mocked at a meeting in Klaipėda, as well as my sincere attempts to explain to the meeting where art is, why he is like that and what is the meaning of it all). The city does not trust. Instead of encouraging and supporting, instead of celebrating artistic initiatives and helping to implement them, more often sticks are put in the wheels. In addition, one gets the impression that many people think that artists should work for nothing, simply for the “honor” of “making the city more interesting” and for the given (actually, demanded) opportunity for “self-expression“. Is there any other profession whose representatives work only for honor? At least I don’t know one.
Nevertheless, in “Reiškinye M” both well-known Lithuanian artists and young people who have just graduated (that was the idea – to encourage young people by inviting them to participate alongside well-known artists) created interesting, subtle, impactful, poetic, conceptual works especially for the city of Klaipėda – they are not always obvious, but work with the city, not against it. After all, this exhibition is about the city as a text that requires a little effort, looking and listening to read carefully. I think that not one of the authors would agree to leave their work in Klaipėda’s public spaces for a longer period of time, not only until the end of the exhibition in mid-November. But does the city of Klaipėda want that, or would it rather be expensively decorated with another bronze man or a kitschy “street mural”?
For nothing, the city is made more “interesting” (and downright ugly) only by graffiti artists, and it is their activities, not artists’, in public spaces that can be called simply self-expression. And in art – very rarely. At least in Vilnius, it has finally been decided to fundamentally fight against this aggressive expression. On that occasion, a discussion “for and against” graffiti was recently held in the cafe “Rūta” of the Vilnius Small Theater. It was considered how to directly and indirectly fight against the visual destruction of the city walls and where to manifest those who want not only to manifest, but to manifest specifically on the walls of buildings, specifically with bright paint and specifically permanently. Both punishment and education were discussed. But absolutely nothing was said about temporality. After the discussion, one person from the audience asked the question of where his six-year-old, who wants to draw/paint on increasingly large formats that “can no longer fit through the door of the room and have nowhere to put it”, will express himself, if it will no longer be possible to daub the walls of the city’s exterior. He was told that there was an option for a six-year-old with insatiable canvas-sized ambitions to simply say stop.
It is debatable whether this is the best policy, but there are other options, such as rolling the canvas or paper into a roll, and then it will fit out the door. But even more on this occasion, I would like to remind you of the temporary nature – buy a bucket of crayons for a child and take them somewhere to a disused airport – they will be able to express themselves in very large formats, but temporarily, until the first heavy rain. Chalks can be used on the city wall as well. If someone doesn’t like it, it can be washed. Another great way to paint on public walls in the city is water. As for education: a bucket of water and a brush or a bottle of water are great artistic tools. A beautiful example is the New York artist Robert Janz (1932-2021), a master of temporality and ephemerality, who painted with water on the walls of New York’s Tribeca district.
It is said that graffiti appeared before our era and “wasn’t illegal” at that time (Viktorija Skorupskaitė, “Kas tildo mestių sienų”, 370). It’s worth noting that slavery wasn’t illegal in those days either, and graffiti was just a few human-scale words scrawled on a wall with a sharp object, rather than the huge (usually hideous) multicolored blobs of paint in today’s cities. So the example of graffiti in Pompeii is not convincing as a justification for today’s graffiti. Of course, I don’t think die-hard graffiti artists would take up the suggestion to paint with water or draw with chalk or even carve with a knife. And this would only prove once again that it is not important for them to create a work of art, nor to say anything to others about it – they only care about the longevity of their own narcissistic self-expression, and they have no idea that someone else’s architectural work and everyone’s public space is so disfigured.
No, graffiti is not an “alternative story about the city”, as city sociologist Veronika Urbonaitė-Barkauskienė claims, because graffiti is the same in all cities, 90% of graffiti is simply the artist’s self-assertion, completely regardless of the environment and context. Perhaps even more so – because of the disregard for the context and dissatisfaction with the temporary – and not just because of its mostly kitschy or terlionary form, graffiti is not considered art (and not even a form of protest), but only vandalism. Undoubtedly, there are exceptions – there are protest graffiti, and graffiti in support of a righteous cause, and even graffiti as art (for example, Morfajus “Sraigė” in Kaunas).
What am I leading to with these seemingly contradictory examples of temporality and permanence, permission and prohibition? To the two statements: a. art is not (only) self-expression, and b. the modernist understanding of the art of public spaces (the kind that graffiti artists who consider themselves artists and most of our city municipalities cling to) is out of date; today, we expect the art of public spaces not only to tell the viewer more than mere platitudes, but also to work with the context in which it appears, rather than ignoring it, to encourage citizens to think and change, to experience and notice subtle and important things in the multilayered nature of their city in the palimpsest, where both the physical and spiritual realms come together.
However, it is important to say this: only when you take art out of the galleries and into the streets do you realize how conservative the world of art consumers (and culture in a broader sense) is, not to mention the licensing faction. But here in Tallinn, this constant was not quite confirmed, or maybe not even at all. I wonder why? Maybe the insertion of a bright pink art gallery into a gray residential area worked after all?
The exhibition “Reiškinys M” will be open in the public spaces of Klaipėda until November 17.
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#Paulina #Pukytė #city #art #Culture
Ublic spaces must evolve to include diverse expressions while also engaging with the local environment and community.
Art should not merely serve as a vehicle for individual self-expression detached from its surroundings; it must interact dynamically with the community, inviting dialogue and participation. The examples from Tallinn and Klaipėda illustrate this point well. In Tallinn, the local population’s curiosity and positive interactions with the art project highlighted that public art can foster connections, spark conversations, and enrich communal spaces. The acceptance and appreciation of art in that context demonstrated a community open to engaging with contemporary expressions.
Conversely, the struggle to gain support in Klaipėda reflects a reluctance to embrace such artistic endeavors. The concern over ephemeral art and its perceived lack of permanence underscores a broader fear of change or deviation from familiar artistic norms. The tendency to favor stable, traditional forms of art — such as bronze sculptures or street murals — reveals a hesitance to trust artists and curators to navigate the complexities of contemporary creation. This is a missed opportunity not only for the artists involved but for the community at large, which could benefit from a variety of artistic expressions that provoke thought, inspire creativity, and invite participation.
Regarding graffiti, while it has historical roots and can serve as a platform for voices that feel marginalized, its current manifestations often stray from meaningful engagement with the environment. Disconnection from the urban landscape and community context often diminishes its potential as public art. Instead of seeing graffiti solely as an act of rebellion or self-assertion, we should encourage conversations about its purpose, its impact, and explore more constructive forms of expression, even for those who may feel compelled to paint unauthorized.
Temporary art—whether created with chalk, water, or other ephemeral mediums—can empower individuals to create without the pressure of permanence. Such practices remind us that art can exist fluidly within the public sphere, inviting participation and joy rather than judgment and disdain.
as communities navigate the complexities of public art, it will be crucial to strike a balance between honoring artistic freedom and ensuring that such expressions enhance, rather than detract from, the shared spaces we inhabit. Emphasizing educational initiatives to foster an understanding of art’s role in society, alongside embracing innovative and temporary practices, may bridge the gap between artists and the communities they wish to engage.
