In the heat of the summer, everything is thirsty – it is the season of growth and, eventually, of ripening. Above all, thirst is a sensation of lack, a yearning for liquid, for water, and is deeply ingrained in all life, as living bodies consist of water, and life is bound in it. It also contains an element of intense desire for something or someone. So, as much as we are made of water, we are made of thirst, propelling us forward; this is blackout, heat, desire for flesh, sex, life, blood, anything.
The summer issue of A Shade Colder titled Thirst offers a glimpse into the spectre of thirst. Viewing thirst at the touching points with the natural world, we invite you to explore the floral fantasias of the painter Malle Leis, as seen through the eyes of Andrew Berardini. Leis’ lush world of plants evokes a sensuality guiding the reader towards an endless summer. This is often best spent in the farther reaches of the land, as Leis did in Võrumaa in southern Estonia. In the current issue Kaarin Kivirähk also profiles the art scene in the city of Võru. On another kind of journey, artist Rebecca Jagoe steps into the wet realms of the sea, pondering the eroticism of liquid states in their Ofthyrst.
Thirst as yearning is also the starting point for an interview by the curator and writer Max Hannus with artists Sarah Nõmm and Maria Izabella Lehtsaar. How much of yourself or your desires and struggles is it acceptable to put into artistic work in a visible way without hurting yourself or appearing too thirsty? Among other things, the conversation discusses gentleness, queerness and intimacy. To accompany the piece, artist Elo Vahtrik has created collages based on the works of the two artists.
But alongside the thirst for life and everything it entails, there are also darker shades to thirst. Thirst always seems to balance between existence and non-existence – bringing things into this world and making them disappear, while thriving on lack.
As the events of Russia’s ongoing war in Ukraine in the past months have once again made clear, the thirst for life can easily be devastated by the thirst for blood. Although, considering the unnecessary destruction it causes and its senselessness, perhaps, the English expression lust for blood is more apt here. And while the echoes of the war in the artworld pale in comparison to the real-life destruction it sows, nothing is left untouched. Do images still have power and how can we re-evaluate that power and the context in which they came into existence and inhabit the world in the present? To tackle some of these questions, curator Liisa Kaljula writes about the curatorial and administrative choices made when recontextualising the exhibition Thinking Pictures at Kumu Art Museum.
In whichever way we experience thirst, most likely its intensity will change us to some degree, so let us be aware not to get lost in it and have kindness towards others who have yet to emerge from the experience.