FFFF-Phenomenon
	Katrin Kivimaa

	Leaping into the domain of future art writing, I would like to start this article with the claim that the group F.F.F.F. (in order of birth - Berit Teeäär, Kaire Rannik, Ketli Tiitsar, Kristi Paap and Maria Valdma) has secured a place in Estonian art history as the 1990s 'girl group' par excellence. F.F.F.F was naturally not the only group or association of women artists during the decade, but their participation in the art world has been enduring. Besides, the fact that nearly all the initial members are still around is certainly proof of inner strength.
	Names Why should I start the treatment of this particular art association, quite special in many ways, with a description that in the context of Estonian art and society could acquire a dubious or even a negative meaning? First of all because both F.F.F.F. and the undersigned reject a purely formal or universal approach to art, where the central figure could well be the artist-hero, but this hero is forced to give up something of his identity which the members of F.F.F.F. most definitely have not done. The group did not attempt to hide their personal identity, be it gender-related or national, behind the concept of 'universal art', still quite popular during the 1990s, despite the rather lightweight notion conveyed by 'girl-artist'.
	The group's special position in Estonian art is primarily due to the fact that, despite being jewellery artists, they made their appearance with installations, photo and video, simultaneously expanding the borders of jewellery art. Several installations make use of pieces of jewellery or decorative objects, and conversely, an installation-type element becomes sometimes significant in the exposition of their jewellery. The mystery of a name - what do these four Fs stand for? - has so far been quite intriguing. In the initial four-member group, each F could mean 'female', but the letter combination has evoked various interpretations, made possible by other interesting and internationally used words starting with F besides 'femina' or 'female'. In the introductory text to their recent exhibition, Anders Härm also ponders the meaning of the group's name, reminding the viewer that it initially meant "Fun For Five Females" (at the very beginning obviously 'four'). He writes that the name has produced terms like 'F-art' or 'to eff' or the 'effs'. True enough, the four F's have become a sort of trademark, a signifier of the group's work and their common artistic identity.
	Identities The simplest way to approach the work of the 'effs' would be to completely discard the trappings of formalist art history and replace it with contemporary key words such as identity, sociality, masquerade, etc. Several critics, including the present one, have viewed their work primarily from the contextual aspect and I for one have always been fascinated with the playful-critical potential in their creative output. In 1999 I claimed as follows:
	"The project F-Files at the exhibition Private Views focused on the abyss between the ideal and the real woman, between ideal gender roles and real individuals. Having played through the ideal female identities of different generations - a girl rock-band, mothers with children, stewardesses, Estonian girls in national costume - the group emphasised the conflict inherent in trying to fit into prescribed visual identities and at the same time trying to maintain one's self. With an unexpected twist, the F.F.F.F. artists negate the ideal or serious performance: the last photograph presents the non-existent figure in the culture repertory of the ideal - homeless women scavenging in rubbish bins. Their action is very close to what Rosi Braidotti has called an act 'as if' which treats femininity as an option, that is, "a set of available poses, a set of costumes rich in history and social power relations, but not fixed or compulsory any longer". (1)
	In 2000 it seemed to me that I had failed to notice the social-critical aspect of that particular black-and-white photograph - that it could, in fact, also denote the phenomenon of the feminisation of poverty so typical of the early stages of capitalism. Allusions to this can be found in other works of socially sensitive younger artists. (2) Or maybe my interpretation became too serious, forgetting the moment of masquerade? A few years earlier I dared to include the project Message to the Future (1997) at the exhibition Interstanding 2 in quasi-sociological art discourse.
	"The project, consisting of containers dispersed across urban space and the final display of collected materials, presented at the same time a random but interesting sociological investigation into the questions of 'participation' and social problems. The results shed light on one of the most painful realities of Estonian society, namely the issue of national minorities. People of Russian origin were keener to participate, their messages communicating anxiety about their future status and present socio-economic situation in the Estonian Republic. Surprisingly, this project received hardly any attention in the art world - or perhaps this was the only response that was possible. After all, shunning feminist politics reflects a wider tendency against an understanding of art as a social practice, so any socially based statement runs the risk of being incomprehensible and therefore silenced." (3)
	However, having said that and being sufficiently familiar with the identity-games and sense of criticism of the 'effs', it is possible to make a U-turn and tackle the specific formal solution of their work. Why? First, because the artists seem to keep returning to their 'main source of nourishment' - jewellery, as demonstrated by the latest exhibition at the Hansapank gallery Our Daily Bread. Secondly, it is precisely the language and aesthetics of jewellery, and the usage of jewellery as an object and as an art medium that makes the work of F.F.F.F. so original and easily recognisable.
	Jewellery Having come out, a few years back, with the notion of a piece of jewellery as a medium, the 'effs' by no means produce 'pure jewellery' - items aspiring to be objects of high art, free of all meaning. A piece of jewellery has a message, it is a mediator - it conveys something from its creator to its user, from the user to the world, at the same time boldly stepping into the logic and circulation of producing and distributing the meanings evaluated by money. However, the same transparently presented consumer value of jewellery that the title Our Daily Bread seems to refer to, releases a torrent of questions, aimed at the hierarchical relations between so-called high art and applied art, at the role and autonomy of art in society, at the ethical role of the artist as creator, etc. etc. The bread moulds displayed at the exhibition are like Pandora's boxes opening, after which the world can no longer slumber peacefully in its innocent ignorance, at least not the jewellery artist or the one who writes about jewellery.
	Each piece of jewellery still seems to satisfy a longing for an aesthetic and autonomous art object, the more so that many pieces of F.F.F.F jewellery verge on being useless, 'not-worthy-to-wear' art objects. Or perhaps we wish to see jewellery like this in order to hide our desire to possess beauty, to believe in the pure nature of aesthetic pleasure liberated from utility, so that the object could be lifted out of the mundane world or the viewers could be elevated by consolation supposedly on offer in experience of art? I believe that this is rather an irritating oscillation between a practical item and a useless object of beauty that allows artists to use the medium of jewellery as a question. One F.F.F.F. silver ring bears the text "All that glitters is not gold". Occasionally I wear that ring. People without knowledge of Estonian often ask me what it means. The reactions are very different. A young man once became quite indignant and demanded to know why I wear that ring. Had I wanted to make a point?
	Notes: (1) Kivimaa, K., 'Introducing Sexual Difference into Estonian Art: Feminist Tendencies during the 1990s'. In: Nosy Nineties: Problems, Themes and Meanings in Estonian Art of the 1990s. Center for Contemporary Arts, Estonia, 2001, p. 126. (2) Kivimaa, K., 'Relevance of Gender: Feminist and other practices in contemporary Estonian art', Mare Articum, 1 (8) 2001. (3) Kivimaa, K., 'Revolting 90s in Estonian Art'. In: Private Views: Spaces and Gender in Contemporary Art from Britain and Estonia. Editors: Dimitrikaki, A., Skelton, P., Tralla, M. London: Women's Art Library, 2000, p. 97.
	| Estonian Art 2/02 (12) | Published by the Estonian Institute 2002 | ISSN 1406-5711 (Online) | ISSN 1406-3549 (Printed version) | einst@einst.ee | tel: (372) 631 43 55 | fax: (372) 631 43 56 |