asc 6 cover veeb

The Shapes of Language


<p><strong>Kaarin Kivirähk</strong> is the editor-in-chief of A Shade Colder.</p>


Kaarin Kivirähk


<div class="wp-block-www-blocks-image-block alignleft"><figure class="is-zoomable"><img data-src="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-scaled.jpg" data-srcset="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-150x150.jpg 150w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-300x263.jpg 300w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-1024x899.jpg 1024w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-898x788.jpg 898w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-1154x1013.jpg 1154w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-1281x1125.jpg 1281w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-1538x1350.jpg 1538w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-2050x1800.jpg 2050w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-2243x1969.jpg 2243w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/asc6-scaled.jpg 2560w" data-sizes="auto" width="2560" height="2247" alt="" class="lazyload"/><figcaption>Illustration: Martina Gofman &amp; Johanna Ruukholm, <em>The Shapes of Language</em>, 2023</figcaption><button class="zoom m-image" aria-label="View fullscreen"></button></figure></div>



<p>For art writers or magazine publishers, language is a day-to-day business. We use it to describe and mediate artists’ works, find new ways to formulate ideas or argue over clichéd art vocabulary. In this issue, we look at the relationship between language and art from a multitude of perspectives. An interview with curator <strong>Cecilia Alemani</strong>, who recently visited Tallinn, focuses on the role text plays in her curatorial approach and her views on writing and literature in general. While Alemani highlights some of her favourite contemporary and historical artists who have engaged with language, Vilnius-based artist <strong>Ieva Rojute</strong>’s contribution brings together text and visual language, which takes everyday folklore as a starting point.</p>



<p>Meanwhile, performance artist and writer <strong>Gregor Kulla</strong> read <strong>McKenzie Wark</strong>’s book <em>Raving </em>(2023) and had a chance to talk to the author and discuss the role of language in shaping identities and as a tool of power. In the short Q&amp;A, curator and museum director <strong>Kadi Polli</strong> talks about the decision to use four different languages that are or have been spoken in what is now known as Estonia at the new permanent exhibition at Kumu Art Museum. <strong>Keiu Krikmann</strong>’s article stems from her experience as a translator who primarily focuses on translating art texts between Estonian and English. What is the role of English in shaping the development of a small nation’s art discourse? Is the influence of the English language only connected to the desire to orientate one’s art scene towards the centre?</p>



<p>Sometimes, the particular language that is used in the art world also needs to function in other contexts; for example, when it lands on a politician’s table. In this context, four art organisations from Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania share how they have been fighting for art workers’ rights and what goals they deem achievable in the near future. The words they use to pass information about artists’ struggles to the general public play an important role here.</p>



<p>As always, the issue ends with a short guide covering art events in Estonia and beyond for autumn and winter 2023/2024. It includes numerous exhibitions that focus on bringing artists from the Baltics together to create a shared narrative, although these stories may initially have been told in different languages. Sometimes, exhibitions like these aim to introduce Estonian, Latvian, and Lithuanian artists outside the region, but sometimes, the mediation process is aimed internally to point to the common histories and knowledge that we sometimes didn&#8217;t even know we shared.</p>


asc6 veebi

Editorial. The Shapes of Language


<p><strong>Keiu Krikmann</strong> is the managing editor of A Shade Colder.</p>


Keiu Krikmann


<div class="wp-block-www-blocks-image-block alignleft"><figure class="is-zoomable"><img data-src="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-scaled.jpg" data-srcset="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-150x150.jpg 150w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-300x200.jpg 300w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-1024x683.jpg 1024w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-1182x788.jpg 1182w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-1519x1013.jpg 1519w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-1687x1125.jpg 1687w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-2025x1350.jpg 2025w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-2700x1800.jpg 2700w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-2953x1969.jpg 2953w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/Cecilia-Alemani-giving-a-talk-at-the-Estonian-Academy-of-Arts-2023-Photo-Ott-Kattel-copy-scaled.jpg 2560w" data-sizes="auto" width="2560" height="1707" alt="" class="lazyload"/><figcaption>Cecilia Alemani giving a talk at the Estonian Academy of Arts, 2023. Photo by Ott Kattel</figcaption><button class="zoom m-image" aria-label="View fullscreen"></button></figure></div>



<p>Although text is a crucial element in the process of exhibition making, especially for curators, it often seems to compete with the more visually appealing artworks. In recent years, a hunger for poetry and (narrative) fiction in exhibition environments has become evident. If done well, featuring multifaceted texts can provide an enriching experience for the viewer; if not, the visitor can easily get overwhelmed and annoyed in the accompanying word soup. It is not an easy task to welcome a variety of texts into art exhibitions and create texts that are accessible to viewers as well.<br>With <em>Milk of Dreams</em>, however, the main exhibition for the 59th Venice Biennale, the curator Cecilia Alemani managed to do both. The exhibition, borrowing its title from a short story by the painter and writer Leonora Carrington, was a remarkable exhibition in many ways, not least in its exploration of links between visual arts, literary works and poetry. So, when Alemani visited Tallinn in September, we sat down to speak about text and language in her work – the role of text, how to show it in an exhibition setting but also how (not) to read and write as a curator.</p>



<div class="q-and-a" class="wp-block-www-blocks-q-and-a-block"><div class="question"><p><strong>Keiu Krikmann:</strong> You have said that you live with books – you have a lot of books in your flat, and you appreciate books as physical printed matter. So, I’m wondering, what do you like to read, when do you like to read, and how do you like to read?</p></div><div class="answer"><p><strong>Cecilia Alemani:</strong> I live surrounded by books because my husband and I are both book collectors, and as part of our jobs, we receive an incredible number of books, which we love. For work, I mostly read art books, such as catalogues and theory books that I receive or buy; I also try to read every magazine that comes my way. I unfortunately read less literary works due to a lack of time, and if I have an hour in the evening before bed, I usually read something I need to read for my work. However, in the summer, I try to also read good literature. I try to read new Italian writers as much as I can. I still very much like to read books on paper, I’m not so used to reading ebooks, but I sometimes listen to audiobooks, especially when I’m in transit, like I was just listening to the last Omar Pahmuk book. But when I’m at home, I very much enjoy the physicality of the pages and the smell of the print; I’m very attached to it.</p></div></div>



<div class="q-and-a" class="wp-block-www-blocks-q-and-a-block"><div class="question"><p><strong>KK:</strong> Often, when I think about language, reading and writing, I remember a quote by Fred Moten: “I like to read, and I like to be involved in reading. And for me, writing is part of what it is to be involved in reading.” It’s beautiful how he connects the two. Curators inevitably have to be writers to some degree; they need to provide exhibitions with a lot of text – curatorial texts and conceptualisations of artworks. These texts can be seen as the prosthetics of an exhibition, a part of the infrastructure around the artworks. And when you curated <em>Milk of Dreams</em>, you also brought in a lot of literature. So, I’m wondering about the role of writing in your curatorial practice; how do you approach it? Is writing something you enjoy, is it difficult for you or maybe both?</p></div><div class="answer"><p><strong>CA:</strong> Unfortunately, for me writing is more challenging than enjoyable simply because of how my days are structured. I process thousands of emails in a day, and the writing I do in emails I don’t even consider writing; it’s so short and synthetic at this point. Also, as a non-native English speaker, your language gets very poor because you end up using a very limited vocabulary in digital communication. It is challenging for me to switch gears to write an essay and create that mental space where you can ignore your phone and emails and just dive in. I had a very academic background, a bachelor’s degree in philosophy, and a master’s in curatorial practice. The writing I was doing then was completely different – I had the headspace to study, to go to the library, to do the work. I think writing never gets easier for me; on the contrary, it’s painful and I do it because I have to; eventually, I enjoy it, but it’s not necessarily a very spontaneous process. I think it’s so difficult also because of the way we communicate these days.</p></div></div>



<figure class="wp-block-pullquote"><blockquote><p>The language gets very poor because we end up using a very limited vocabulary in digital communication.</p></blockquote></figure>



<div class="q-and-a" class="wp-block-www-blocks-q-and-a-block"><div class="question"><p><strong>KK:</strong> I think, as a curator, sometimes you prioritise artworks, and writing just slips in between things you really want to highlight. Regardless, in Venice, you brought a lot of literary works into the exhibition – you did this through references and titles, and you also had a chapter there that looked at language more directly through visual poetry, concrete poetry etc. Literary works can be an integral part of a curatorial practice – as part of the research, as part of how you come to the end result. Do you find it challenging to bring text to an exhibition space?</p></div><div class="answer"><p><strong>CA:</strong> No, for me, it was very enriching, and I thought it was also the case for the viewer. I spent a lot of time doing research for the historical capsules in the exhibition, and I didn’t want to focus necessarily only on artworks. When I was looking at the 1920s and 1930s and surrealism but also the 1960s, it seemed to me that the cultural field was much more unified, and the distinction between visual artists, writers and poets was less strict. It was more about the community of people coming together and working together, whereas I feel the fields are much more separated today and the communities much less fused together. So, it seemed quite obvious to include other parts of the cultural field, like poetry and literature in an exhibition that tried to look at the different kinds of cultural environments and contexts in which artists were working. Text was also an outlet for visual artists, so it felt very natural to include journals, poetry etc. I love it when I, and hopefully the viewers too, can learn something new from an exhibition.</p></div></div>



<div class="wp-block-www-blocks-image-block alignleft"><figure class="is-zoomable"><img data-src="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/‘Capsula-2-–-Corpo-Orbita-Capsule-2-–-The-Orbiting-Body-2022-exhibition-view-Central-Pavilion-at-the-59th-Venice-Biennale.-Courtesy-La-Biennale-di-Venezia-photograph-Roberto-Marossi.jpeg" data-srcset="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/‘Capsula-2-–-Corpo-Orbita-Capsule-2-–-The-Orbiting-Body-2022-exhibition-view-Central-Pavilion-at-the-59th-Venice-Biennale.-Courtesy-La-Biennale-di-Venezia-photograph-Roberto-Marossi-150x150.jpeg 150w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/‘Capsula-2-–-Corpo-Orbita-Capsule-2-–-The-Orbiting-Body-2022-exhibition-view-Central-Pavilion-at-the-59th-Venice-Biennale.-Courtesy-La-Biennale-di-Venezia-photograph-Roberto-Marossi-300x200.jpeg 300w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/‘Capsula-2-–-Corpo-Orbita-Capsule-2-–-The-Orbiting-Body-2022-exhibition-view-Central-Pavilion-at-the-59th-Venice-Biennale.-Courtesy-La-Biennale-di-Venezia-photograph-Roberto-Marossi.jpeg 900w" data-sizes="auto" width="900" height="600" alt="" class="lazyload"/><figcaption><em>Capsula 2 – Corpo Orbita</em> (Capsule 2 – The Orbiting Body), 2022, exhibition view, Central Pavilion at the 59th Venice Biennale. Courtesy of La Biennale di Venezia. Photo by Roberto Marossi</figcaption><button class="zoom m-image" aria-label="View fullscreen"></button></figure></div>



<div class="q-and-a" class="wp-block-www-blocks-q-and-a-block"><div class="question"><p><strong>KK:</strong> Sometimes I’m afraid that within the exhibition, the textual can’t compete with the visual; the way that the two grab the viewers&#8217; attention is very different. Were you not afraid of that a little bit, or was it just – it is what it is?</p></div><div class="answer"><p><strong>CA:</strong> Of course, I was not expecting someone to read a Joyce Mansour novel right there in the exhibition, but we could provide an easy way for the audience to write down the name of a poet they didn’t know and maybe buy their book in the bookshop. In a way, literature and poetry are much more approachable and easily accessible than a work of art that you usually get to see live only in an exhibition – a book is a less precious object; you can buy many different editions. In the exhibition, they were like hints or suggestions or a trampoline for people to get inspired. Maybe someone wanted to know more, for example, what The Crisis magazine was in the 1930s in New York, so they could go home and do some research. I think it’s a different kind of user experience. The moment of appreciating a painting or sculpture happens in the exhibition space, which is often highly choreographed, but when it comes to literature and the written word, it’s something you can take home with you.</p></div></div>



<div class="q-and-a" class="wp-block-www-blocks-q-and-a-block"><div class="question"><p><strong>KK:</strong> Definitely, text can create an atmosphere after the fact, in a way. You have also said that you always try to read what artists are writing – what have you encountered, and what do you look for? Is it more about reading things that would supplement artworks, or do you look for writing as artistic practice?</p></div><div class="answer"><p><strong>CA:</strong> I think it’s both – I don’t look for anything in particular, I’m just curious. I wish I had a lot of different talents. When I think about someone like Leonora Carrington, who is an incredible painter, her novels and writing are absolutely fabulous, and she could go from the medium of painting to the medium of writing in what seemed like a very fluid and easy way. What I truly appreciate is that she could use a completely different medium, the written word, to capture exactly the same atmosphere as in her paintings. She does it with the same levity, sense of humour, irony and sometimes darkness as in her paintings but using a different vocabulary. I’m not necessarily interested in artists writing about their own works, like Donald Judd explaining his sculptures – although his writing is incredible and I appreciate it in another way – but I am more fascinated when an artist finds a different outlet, like poetry or literature.</p></div></div>



<div class="q-and-a" class="wp-block-www-blocks-q-and-a-block"><div class="question"><p><strong>KK:</strong> I’d also like to talk a bit about the way we talk about art – a lot of people often make fun of international art English, which is a very specific type of language, jargon almost. It has become so ubiquitous and levelling, almost artificial, like a parasite that ends up creeping into your own language and thinking. As someone who works with a lot of different artists all over the world and gets to look into very different art scenes, have you noticed any difference in the way people in different parts of the world discuss their work?</p></div><div class="answer"><p><strong>CA:</strong> Of course, international art English is everywhere, and we are all complicit. I can’t tell you if it’s different in Latin America or Asia, but when it comes to exhibition language, it&#8217;s universal; it&#8217;s almost jargon as you say, and often feels empty. I don&#8217;t know what the solution is. What I did in Venice, for example, we had artists check and approve every label we wrote. But it doesn’t mean artists don’t use that jargon. I want language to be accessible. It’s often about finding a compromise between what I want to say and what the artist wants to say. I also often try to push back against what the artist wants to say, trying to avoid what is evident anyway or references that are too obscure. So, I think our job as curators is to function as a link between the artwork and the general public and try to avoid jargon – dropping Deleuse and Guattari’s names in a label and so on, I think that is ridiculous. But when it comes to essays and the more sophisticated writing, what’s happening now is scary, it feels like all these texts are written by ChatGPT. I’m definitely curious to see what will happen to art writing because I think it’s not in a very strong position right now.</p></div></div>



<figure class="wp-block-pullquote"><blockquote><p>Our job as curators is to function as a link between the artwork and the general public and try to avoid jargon.</p></blockquote></figure>



<div class="q-and-a" class="wp-block-www-blocks-q-and-a-block"><div class="question"><p><strong>KK:</strong> And to conclude, despite all that, what are some of the books or writing or publishing practices that you’ve been excited about recently or you’ve enjoyed lately?</p></div><div class="answer"><p><strong>CA:</strong> The last book I read is by the Italian writer Antonio Scurati, <em>M: Son of the Century</em>, the third volume of Mussolini’s biography; the fourth one is forthcoming. It&#8217;s a literary version of his life, and it&#8217;s a scary read because right now in Italy we have a very right-wing government in power, and you can see so many of the tactics they are using now, a century later after fascism was born, deployed the same way. But Scurati is an amazing writer, and the series is definitely captivating.</p></div></div>


Cecilia Alemani giving a talk at the Estonian Academy of Arts-2023-Photo Ott Kattel copy

Exhibition language is universal but often feels empty: Interview with Cecilia Alemani on text and language in curatorial practice


<p><strong>Gregor Kulla</strong> is a composer, performance artist, writer and model. They are the creative producer of the international contemporary music festival AFEKT and they also teach at the University of Tartu Viljandi Culture Academy.</p>


Gregor Kulla

kollaaz gregor

Gender is a language, and it could be fun to play with if there wasn’t so much power and coercion attached to it. Interview with McKenzie Wark

Networking of the publishers of art magazines in Nordic and Baltic countries in Vilnius. The common language is obviously English. Photo by Inga Juodyte

We are still translated people


<p>Language plays an important role in framing visual art, presenting it as part of a historical narrative but also in creating new narratives. We can clearly see this at the current permanent exhibition <em>Landscapes of Identity</em> at the Kumu Art Museum in Tallinn, so we asked Kadi Polli, the director of the museum and one of the curators of the permanent display about the role of language in working with historical materials.</p>



<div class="q-and-a" class="wp-block-www-blocks-q-and-a-block"><div class="question"><p><em>Landscapes of Identity</em> focuses on art created by various communities in Estonia (Russian, Estonian, Baltic-German) and the entanglements these entail. However, these communities have very different linguistic traditions – what challenges did this pose for the museum in curating the exhibition?</p></div><div class="answer"><p>With <em>Landscapes of Identity</em> we did indeed want to show the entanglements between the Baltic-German, Russian and Estonian cultures instead of focusing on difference. German, Russian and Estonian have historically been the most prominent languages in Estonia and a large part of the Estonian cultural elite spoke all three. The same can be said about the imagery – there are a lot of similarities and transference of motifs. It is easy to see that many of the symbolic images in Estonian art – be it a girl in national dress, seaside views with glacial boulders or landscapes with village roads and heavy skies – are modelled after the 19th-century Russian salon painting or the landscapes created by the Düsseldorf school of painting.</p></div></div>



<div class="wp-block-www-blocks-image-block"><figure class="is-zoomable"><img data-src="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKMj500M1810_1_pisipilt.jpg" data-srcset="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKMj500M1810_1_pisipilt-150x150.jpg 150w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKMj500M1810_1_pisipilt-300x165.jpg 300w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKMj500M1810_1_pisipilt.jpg 600w" data-sizes="auto" width="600" height="329" alt="" class="lazyload"/><figcaption>Oskar Hoffmann (1851–1912), <em>On the Road to the Market</em> (1894–1899). Oil<br><br></figcaption><button class="zoom m-image" aria-label="View fullscreen"></button></figure></div>



<p>When it comes to the texts in the exhibition spaces more specifically, we decided in the beginning that we would use the three languages that are significant in Estonian culture, and add English as well. So, the exhibition speaks about Estonian art in four languages. This was a conceptual decision also when it comes to the introductory video, in which we hear German (Ulrike Plath), Russian (David Vseviov), Estonian (Krista Kodres) and English (Andres Kasekamp, Bart Pushaw). For the video, we chose people with different linguistic backgrounds, who all look at Estonian art and culture from the perspective of different communities, are familiar with both the national narrative and international context and are able to speak to an international audience. The exhibition texts are created with the same agenda in mind. Together with Linda Kaljundi we wanted the exhibition texts in different languages not to be exact translations of the same text but to consider the reader and provide a wider context to local terms, if necessary.</p>



<div class="q-and-a" class="wp-block-www-blocks-q-and-a-block"><div class="question"><p>Language is, especially in Estonian culture, at the foundation of national identity – how can language be used in a way that different identities and voices could also be given enough space? What are some of the ways a contemporary museum can communicate the linguistic layers that accumulate in artworks and other artefacts during their lifetime, considering the fact that the life span of these objects is often much longer than that of people?</p></div><div class="answer"><p>For us, giving a voice to different communities did not only mean approaching these based on language or nationality. Although these were also a factor, for example, we highlighted the presence of Baltic-German and Russian artists in the art created during the Estonian Republic at the beginning of the 20th century. But it was equally important to give visibility to women artists and those of a different class or race. It is not unimportant in Estonian art history that women artists have notably featured more marginalised people; for example, Natalie Mei has created profound drawings looking at single mothers and prostitution.</p></div></div>



<p>When working with art from earlier periods, we inevitably came across those linguistic layers that were exposed in earlier descriptions and titles of artworks. This is a whole other discussion that leads to the recognition that the titles of artworks are an important part of art history. Updating these is, in fact, the task of art and memory institutions, be it done due to new research and discoveries or the changing meanings of language and terms over time.</p>



<div class="wp-block-www-blocks-two-images-block"><figure class="is-zoomable"><img data-src="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKM02651_G04969_Mei_Naised_ASC0574.jpg" data-srcset="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKM02651_G04969_Mei_Naised_ASC0574-150x150.jpg 150w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKM02651_G04969_Mei_Naised_ASC0574-211x300.jpg 211w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKM02651_G04969_Mei_Naised_ASC0574-555x788.jpg 555w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKM02651_G04969_Mei_Naised_ASC0574.jpg 563w" data-sizes="auto" width="563" height="800" alt="" class="lazyload"/><figcaption1>Natalie Mei, <em>Women</em>, 1928</figcaption1><button class="zoom m-image" aria-label="View fullscreen"></button></figure><figure class="is-zoomable"><img data-src="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKMj49962_G28327_Mei_Ema_lapsega_ASC0605.jpg" data-srcset="https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKMj49962_G28327_Mei_Ema_lapsega_ASC0605-150x150.jpg 150w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKMj49962_G28327_Mei_Ema_lapsega_ASC0605-181x300.jpg 181w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKMj49962_G28327_Mei_Ema_lapsega_ASC0605-475x788.jpg 475w, https://admin.ashadecolder.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/11/EKMj49962_G28327_Mei_Ema_lapsega_ASC0605.jpg 482w" data-sizes="auto" width="482" height="800" alt="" class="lazyload"/><figcaption>Natalie Mei, <em>Mother with Child</em>, 1928</figcaption><button class="zoom m-image" aria-label="View fullscreen"></button></figure></div>


EKM02651_G04969_Mei_Naised_ASC0574

We wanted to show entanglements instead of focusing on difference

kollaaz

Organising against precarity


<p><strong>Ieva Rojūtė</strong> is a visual artist based in Vilnius, Lithuania. She works with installation, text and drawing. Her large-scale installations intertwine hand-painted verbal narratives with abstract elements. Fragments of overheard conversations and stories merge with her own personal and artistic experience into a broad range of topics, including social constructions such as family, daily use of language, and small yet overwhelming human concerns, fears, dreams and failures.</p>


Ieva Rojūtė

ieva puhas1

Dreamers

Kris Lemsalu, „HOLY HELL O“, 2018. Commissioned by Goldsmiths CCA and Tramway, Glasgow. Photo_ Mark Blower

Your guide to Estonia and beyond in Autumn and Winter 2023/2024

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A Shade Colder is a platform for discussions about and around art in Estonia and beyond.