Žilvinas Kempinas exhibiting his works in Plunge: my works are “interesting physics” | Culture

At the 9th World Žemaitian Art Exhibition, held every four years and opened at the Plungė Manor, you can see the works of more than 80 of the most famous artists from this region. Among the authors of the exhibition are classics of Lithuanian art, invited guests, the brightest artists in the world today, and young talents.

According to art researcher dr. Laimas Kreivytė, “Žilvinas Kempinas returned to his native Plunge through a time tunnel created by himself. The installation “Tūba” in the Žemaicai Art Museum is the longest incarnation of the work. (…) Here, Žilvinas constructs a cosmic tunnel, which is like a wormhole that transports us to another space and time.”

We talk with the artist regarding his work and his search for connections with his hometown.

– Over the past year, you have delighted Lithuania with more than one creative project. Vilnius, Kaunas, Klaipėda… We finally got you in Plungė. What led to the choice to create here, together with other authors of the 9th World Exhibition of Saxon Art?

– Kai Alvidas Bakanauskas (Director of the Žemaicai Art Museum, – ed. past) invited to participate in the 9th World Žemaičiai Exhibition, I became interested and thought that the proposed space in the stable might be large enough to accommodate one of my larger works.

At first, I didn’t think regarding “Tūba” because it needs a really big space, but it was this work that I wanted to show in Lithuania for many years, and it remained unshown. In 2009, “Tūba” was seen only by those Lithuanians who came to the Venice Art Biennale.

I kept wanting to install it in Lithuania, but so far I haven’t found a suitable space. When I saw this hall, a former stable, I realized that this is the space.

Photo by Greta Skaraitiene/BNS/Artist Žilvinas Kempinas and his installation in the cathedral bell tower

– Was it important that your work “Tūba” will come to life in your hometown?

– It is a beautiful coincidence that I was born in Plunge, and “Tūba”, which has circled the world, now appeared as if at the starting point of my own.

Over the years, since 2008, when it was first installed during my residency at Alexander Calder’s studio (Atelier Calder), this installation has been shown at the Venice Art Biennale (Italy), then in São Paulo (Brazil), then at Kusmtraum Dornbirn ( Austria), and finally exhibited once more in France – in one of the churches of the Bordeaux region. Here will be the 6th version of the “Tūba” installation.

Photo by Saulius Narkaus/Žilvinas Kempins installation “Tūba”

– In previous interviews, you said that Plunge is just your place of birth.

– This is because I was born in Plunge, and I grew up in Klaipėda, where my parents still live. So, I’m a native from Plunge, although a fake from Plunge (laughing). My mother comes from Skuodas district, Udralaii village, near Mosėdis. The father is from Šilė village, Šilalė district. They met in Plunge: mother taught mathematics, father – Lithuanian language and literature.

To my surprise, following receiving the invitation to work in Plunge, I realized that it really excites me. I used to visit my childhood friend Laima Baltrūnaitė here. She, one might say, discovered the artist in me. She painted in watercolor herself. I kept visiting her while she was still alive, and this time I wanted to live, feel the city, its life flow – it’s both interesting and fun for me. It’s like the town belongs to me and I belong to him.

And I can even say that it was more interesting for me to work here than, for example, in Germany. I trusted the Žemaicai Art Museum, I felt that it would create all the necessary conditions to achieve a good result, there were no doubts regarding that.

Photo by Saulius Narkaus/Žilvinas Kempinas

– At the Venice Art Biennale, art critics drew attention to the connections that “Tūba” created with the Renaissance building, and compared the ripples of the bands to the reflections of the water surrounding Venice. What is important in Plunge – architecture, the person entering?

– When creating installations, I first think regarding the viewer: I imagine how he will move, walk, look… Those things are important. I do not create a special, unique connection with the place, but when I take the work to a specific space, I always adapt it, depending on the location or architecture, so later the installations seem to “catch” certain associations. “Tūba” itself has a rather unique feature – it merges with the architecture in which it is located.

When you walk inside “Tūba”, you move in two spaces at the same time – inside the work and at the same time the architecture of the building, both of these spaces intertwine. Maybe it sounds pretentious or incomprehensible, but you need to see it with your own eyes to understand what I’m talking regarding.

Inside the installation, you can see what is behind it: the walls of the building, the windows… For example, in Venice you might see the gigantic columns of the Renaissance palace Scuola Grande dela Misericordia, the 11-meter high ceiling, and impressive wooden ceilings. In contrast, the interior of São Paulo’s Galeria Leme was dominated by concrete, there were no windows, and the Tuba had a completely different impression than in Venice.

Photo by Saulius Narkaus/Žilvinas Kempinas

The gaze was kind of confused because there was nothing to focus on beyond the stripes and it gave the impression of an infinite space; the black lines became an abstract vibration. Space became strongly felt, but difficult to grasp, because there was no starting point for the gaze. It provoked mild imbalances in more sensitive people. I wanted to say “spectators”, but in that case “participants” would be more appropriate, since there was also a physical experience of the whole body caused by the visual shapes and proportions.

The work looks different every time, but the relationship with the environment happens by itself. If there is side lighting – “Tūba” will light one way, if from the back – another way. Therefore, I am interested in adapting this work to different spaces, as if I were making a new one every time.

True, Plunge has the longest “Tūba” installed so far – not 25, 28, as it used to be, but all 30 meters. The total length of the installation with the structure is 32 meters. All other proportions are the same, but here the architecture of the building is different and therefore the installation looks even more different. “Tūba” is like an octopus – it always adapts to the environment, dissolves in it.

– Where do you get your ideas from?

– Many things lie in the history of art. Later, some artists or their ideas become my starting point. Those references are different. Sometimes you are inspired, but you don’t copy, a certain dialogue occurs. If, for example, Richard Serra created physically extremely complex works, I want to do the opposite – that’s how a dialogue starts.

Photo by Saulius Narkaus/Žilvinas Kempinas

For example, Flux, which I am exhibiting in the next room, has a pedestal as an idea for the presentation of the sculpture, but the work itself is kinetic. Kinetic works are a dialogue with the whole history of kinetic works, like Alexander Calder or Jean Tignuely, but in my works you will find more surprise – the strips flutter organically, without any repetitive mechanical movements. I’m interested in following a certain art direction and doing things differently, interacting with ideas already accepted in the art world. I use them to do something differently, I am interested in phenomenological sensations.

To be able to see a dialogue with other artists, you have to be educated and recognize them. But it is equally important that people who have not studied art enjoy my work. When I see an electrician or a security guard walking by, a child who stops by my work and looks, I know that it affects them.

– And how do you achieve specific forms of expression? When do creations take shape?

– An idea may fall from the sky, but it will not be yours. You have to grow it like a seedling to mature into the final result. Therefore, the artist has to work in the studio or follow the changes of ideas in order to start a process that seems to lead you further. Later, you see from which works new ideas and changes come. If the artist doesn’t move forward, he just repeats himself and that’s it.

– The technological precision of your creations would be beyond the reach of a common creator. Do you like math?

– I never liked formulas, theorems, calculations… My mother was a math teacher, according to her, I only learned math out of politeness. It was too dry a science for me. Ironically, I do not do without mathematics and physics in my work, but I call it “interesting physics”. I am interested in the idea of ​​perfection, precision, but that does not mean that my works are precise. Anyway, I just manage to get the impression that they are exactly like that.

Ironically, I do not do without mathematics and physics in my work, but I call it “interesting physics”.

The works contain their internal logic, and mathematical calculations and physics are just working tools. I don’t try to combine art with science and I don’t sit at a desk with a pencil in my hand and a calculator, I just experiment. I do a lot of experiments – maybe this is where my Žemaitian stubbornness comes into play. Later I fix the proportions – the speed of the fan, the length of the ribbon… I think that art should be alive. When there is a certain dose of energy in the work, a relationship between the work and the viewer is established.

– Can it be said that your seemingly spontaneously moving, rippling creations are actually carefully thought out?

– The piece is always conceived in the studio, and I only install it in the place intended for the exhibition. This is a studio – a place of my creativity, at that time I work in a gallery or other exhibition space only as a worker-implementer of an idea. However, here too there is a kind of creative process – how to do maximally well in the circumstances that are given to you.

In Plunge, for example, the entire stable hall had to be carpeted, because before that it was the floor of the gym. And for the Flux installation, the museum installed special lighting because, once more, this room had never been used for an exhibition before. I think both rooms worked best for both jobs.

Installations are not paintings or traditional sculptures, they disappear following the exhibition, they simply disappear.

Another aspect, installations are not paintings or traditional sculptures, they disappear following the exhibition, they just disappear. Like drama theater productions, the scenography is alive as long as the performance is being performed. After the exhibition, “Tūba” will be dismantled and it will no longer be a work of art. Only his idea, impression, memories and photos will remain.

There is such an illusion that my works are all over the world. No. There are some permanent objects, but the kinetic works I have created with tapes are only a concept, existing while the exhibition is on. They are like a flash – in one part of the world, in another… I think that’s what makes them so charming. These works will never get old, they will never collect dust.

When people come to the exhibition, they can experience them, look at them, while others later only see photos or a video, and this is already a completely different state of the work. It’s like reading a description of a dish instead of actually tasting it.

– You can directly ask – have your creative dreams come true?

– When I was a student, I had the goal of creating works that would be worth visiting. It might be described as “Get off the sofa, bring your body to the exhibition to experience or perceive something new”.

Of course, people today have the whole world on their phone screen, but here in Plunge, both works are such that you need to see them live to get the full impression. This is, of course, important for any work of art, because it is not the same to see, say, Michelangelo’s Pieta live, as it is to look at a photograph.

I don’t want to compare myself to the classics, it’s just the first example that comes to mind. In the case of my works, it is perhaps even more important because of the materiality and spatial specificity. The first confrontation of the viewer with the work is extremely precious to me.

So, I seem to have fulfilled these or other similar goals. But on the other hand, it didn’t change anything – most people are still more inclined to look at their phone than to go to an exhibition and see it live.

But also well, let my works be only for those who come.

Ž. Kempin’s works “Tūba” and “Flux” can be seen only until 2024. August 18 Žemaicai Art Museum in Plunge.