Do you make your art in order to be noticed, become famous and
provoke people? Or because you simply can't help doing it? Or even
out of a sense of mission? Who are your precursors?
There are many reasons why I make art, and I would be lying if I
were to claim that one reason is more important than the others. Of
course I would like to be noticed, to become famous, and provocation
is linked with the two. At the same time, I have to live out my
thoughts since bottling them up would be catastrophic for me. There
are things which make my heart bleed, things I feel I have to say to
people and sometimes when saying these one has to provoke, irritate,
shock, take risks, otherwise no one will pay attention to them. We
are all too bound up with ourselves, too indifferent, to notice
anything which is not thrust before us. Women artist have been
invisible for too long and they also have presented their thoughts
invisibly in order not to they irritate, not to get hurt. Women are
by nature more modest, and so do not charge straight into the flames,
at least that is how it is customary to see women. I am an idealist
and think that artists have their mission, perhaps it is sometimes
difficult to understand what that mission actually is. And I have
many precursors, they are those who swim against the prevailing
current and yet do not drown.
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You have called yourself a revolting woman and there perhaps exist
those who would agree. Does your adopted role sometimes embarrass,
sadden and weary you? If it is a protest, then against what or
whom?
I have not called myself a revolting woman, at least not before this
epithet was given to me. In order to bring some clarity to the issue,
I was called "that revolting woman" by Egyptologist Sergei Stadnikov,
I was only quoting him. Tiina Strauss mentioned this in my interview
last spring in the weekly Eesti Ekspress. From that time forth I have
had no difficulties in confirming how "revolting" I am. Sometimes it
amuses me how easily people believe what they hear and if you are
different or become famous then they need to build up a myth or
legend around you. My myth is being a "revolting woman", a position
that was not filled for a long time. For part of my life, I tried to
be quite someone else, act in accordance to what society regards as
normal, but nothing came of it. My inner self revolted against the
prison, thirsting for freedom. To a certain extent, I have liberated
myself since I no longer am afraid to say what I think and feel.
Occasionally I am filled with an urge to improve the world. I protest
against the fact that people shut their eyes in awkward situations,
refusing to see or think. Sometimes I feel that I am more of a femme
révoltée who is worried about the state of affairs than
a revolting woman.
Do you believe that you can shake up domesticated women, or people
in general, for that matter, out of their complacency with your art?
Is it necessary?
Without belief, it is hard to manage, this truth is employed by all
religions. I cannot do things I don't believe in. During my most
recent exhibition in the Vaal gallery, I realised that it is possible
to shake people up, not only women, but also men, for they also have
to become more aware. I think that we all need a jolt from time to
time. I have frequently taken a jolt myself, and that is a good
thing. Coming to London has been a shocking experience and
unfortunately some of my ideals have been shuttered. But thanks to
that fact I have begun to see things which I had not noticed before.
Obviously I would , now and again, like to uncouple and forget the
world around me, simply enter an impenetrable embryo and stay there,
protected from everything outside.
Could a revolting man be inspiring to you?
Of course, if I fall in love with such a revolting man, I would be
inspired by him, but I would define those men that inspire me as
interesting, intriguing, complex, intelligent and close to me.
What do you see as your place in Estonian art? Are you needed
here?
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If you rate the Estonian art scene on a colour scale, then I would
say that my art is brightly variegated, encapsulating all the vibrant
tones of brilliant autumn weather. Colour and sun are always
necessary.
Is an Estonian context important for you or do you believe that
you can break through elsewhere?
An Estonian context is very important for me, but this does not mean
that I am afraid of failing to break through elsewhere, or of not
believing myself to be able to. The only thing I do not know is
whether this should necessarily happen, but there is something in my
nature which does not allow me to be in one place for long, I always
have to be on the move, on the way somewhere to do something. I quite
clearly fear that staying in one place will make me stagnate like the
pond in the hothouse in Tartu Botanical Gardens.
What gets on your nerves?
What gets on my nerves most is, when people remind me in certain
situations in an unpleasant way that I am born as a woman and in
Eastern Europe, when women and men are treated unequally in social
terms and when women tend to seclude and differentiate themselves.
Biologically, we are different, but sometimes women try too hard to
think themselves to be different, men do so as a matter of
course.
Are you afraid of silence?
No. I like to walk in silence along the shore. The only thing is that
silence is hard to capture. If you mean silence in the sense that my
works would not draw attention to themselves, would not create a
stir, then I sometimes long for such silence, it would afford me the
opportunity of experimenting more, of developing further.
Do you consider yourself a good painter, do you still paint and if
so, what?
I
imagine there are many better and worse painters than myself on this
Earth. I have enjoyed, and still enjoy, painting, since I love
colour. Colour is important for me as a medium for transferring a
message. My last exhibition included eleven painted faces. These were
not paintings in the ordinary sense of the term, since they were part
and parcel of my installation. In the summer, I usually go and paint
for a week at the Põltsamaa Artists Club. I come from the
region and local amateur painters (what a foolish term, incidentally)
have always kept their fingers crossed for me and I enjoy painting
with them outside, in natural surroundings. I think it very important
that I do not forget the people over there. Last summer we even did a
performance together in the castle courtyard.
What can you imagine yourself doing ten years from now?
With my present pace of life, and with different activities every
day, it is hard to guess what I will be doing in ten years' time.
Four years ago, I almost declared I would never make art using
technological equipment. At present here in London I am learning how
to become a digital artisan. I enjoy it, it gives me so many new
opportunities to express myself, relate to people outside of the
limits of repressive power structures, to find my own niche. I hope
that in twenty years' time I will not be an embittered old woman, if
it becomes evident that my "own" has not lead anywhere. But perhaps
mankind will not exist ten years from now, perhaps life will be
extinguished at the beginning of the new millennium, or the newcomers
to this planet will kill everyone or all people will start with their
own stupidities since there are so many already who believe in
artificial intelligence and artificial bodies.
I am sure that in ten years' time I will be able to drive a car, use a computer much better than at present and still be able to sing Estonian folk songs, perhaps in order to jolt people from the slumber.