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Elina Merenmies
How would you define your relationship to the tradition
of painting?
Within the figurative tradition I have always been interested
in Flemish primitive painting, especially the martyr images.
Also some of Hieronymus Bosch’s works have been important.
Bosch has certainly been first and foremost as a source
of innovation. Among the artists from the same period,
I could mention Thierry Bouts, who made very cool, uneventful
works. He depicted quite violent images of torture where
the same observer, with a cold smile, was present in the
scene. Bouts was quite different from other artists of
his period – his works were, at the same time, painful
and ironic – attitude-wise they have a wide horizon. I
came across these works when I lived in Brussels for a
couple of years. I quite extensively studied their works
and could totally concentrate on that, nowadays it would
not be possible. I just don’t have time for that.
I use techniques, working with tempera and oil paint,
and with indian ink on paper, which are the most ancient
and original ways of doing paintings, and on that level
I feel that I’m part of a long lineage. Basically, you
can’t work with more traditional means than that. I have
also used acrylic and oil combinations recently. Using
different techniques simultaneously has always been very
practical, especially in figurative painting. Mixing water
and oil gives various opportunities for handling the surface
and for depicting different entities.
Does painting have some unique qualities that have
resulted in your choosing this medium?
First of all, I think flat things have value. The first
point of interest for me is to make three-dimensional
worlds in two-dimensional space. The illusion of making
a world inside that space has always been important. I
have not ever been that keen on working with other media,
even though I have taken photos. I’m also quite anti-social
and prefer to work alone.
Besides painting you also work extensively with drawing.
Do you use your drawings as sketches for paintings?
Not really. Sometimes, when weird things appear in paintings,
I try out and develop these anomalies in drawings. The
material in itself constitutes and influences the final
outcome. I don’t plan the elements in the painting carefully
beforehand – they come out during the process. On the
other hand, I work with thin layers, which enables me
to add and take away elements at different points of the
work’s making. Drawing is important for various reasons.
It is fast and opens up my visual thinking and brings
new things into my paintings. It helps me to break old
modes within painting and gives certainty to the eye.
I am serious about drawing and I do it all the time –
drawings are works in their own right.
At what point do you name your works? What position
does text have in your works?
Usually paintings have working titles, which can change.
When it comes to textual fragments or words in my paintings,
I cannot really give an all-encompassing answer. Their
purpose differs from time to time. To give one example,
the textual elements in I’ve had enough (1998-2000)
shuffle the pack of cards and at the same time concentrate
our attention. On one level, it is connected to thinking
patterns and representation present in comic books. One
important source for comics has been my involvement in
the group Le Dernier Cri and it has somewhat affected
my works. Some entities are, just plainly, results of
normal everyday visual bombardment, from television, magazines
and other media. All my works are fundamentally emotional
reactions.
Are there any literary sources that are important to you?
I read a lot, but nothing that really connects to the
works I do. All my works are based on certain feelings,
which I then continue working on in paintings or drawings.
I have come across certain books that have a feel or elements
similar to those you can see in my works. These interesting
moments and instances in literature are accidental, even
if one encounters some intriguing material now and again.
One book that has been important, especially in connection
with these works to be shown in Proje4L, is the Bible,
as I nearly know it by heart.
What do you want to say with your paintings? What is
the inherent narrative in them?
The story or narrative to be found in my works is there
when I finish the painting. It all begins with a certain
idea about the content, and after having worked intensively,
I’m astonished by the result and the things that are on
the canvas. In the end, I just realise that ’the left
hand did things which the right hand did not have any
idea about’.
You said that the starting point for some of your works
is dreams and other personal experiences. How do you go
about making these feelings accessible to the viewer?
How do you make the personal into the general?
I believe the viewer has access to them. If we look at
my recent works, the themes of suffering and lack of compassion
come across. They are one of the most basic entities in
human life and need addressing. Using narrative techniques
is meaningful, since it makes suffering visible. It is
vital to show the victim‘s point of view. I don’t think
it would be so interesting to make paintings where one
depicts tough guys drinking schnapps and hitting people
with axes without the victims on the ground having their
say.
We could, for example, take elements like the teddy bears
in my works. People instantly read them as ‘softening
effects’. I have very consciously used them, since through
them it is easy to approach and handle certain themes.
They come out quite naturally. For me ‘evil lives in the
hideout of goodness‘. It is often masked with cute and
pleasant outward appearances, but it is there nevertheless.
These cute toys also act as consoling elements. In Oh
my God! (1999-2001) one can see bunnies and mice, and
these small creatures comfort the exploding creature and
seem to say: ”Don’t explode! It’s going to be OK.”
You already mentioned themes linked to suffering and
pain and, on the other hand, compassion and hope. Do you
see a way out, and do you give tools for making this happen
in your works?
I certainly hope so. I am religious, and the basic idea
about extreme suffering and pain, loneliness, isolation,
and even self-judgement, resulting in hope, is obvious
for me. It is, of course, the spectator’s own way of dealing
with these matters that I believe to be crucial for a
way out.
Flemish art has been important for me, since the issues
of good and evil
conduct were addressed in those paintings. The open way
of dealing with these questions is also something that
fascinates me in the art of that time. Surprisingly it
is not so bound by ‘law’ and gives room for the individual.
What about autobiographical elements?
My autobiography would look quite horrible and it could
easily be turned into a horror movie. One thing that has
always been imperative is love, and my works are not good
if that love is not there. It is not only connected to
personal relationships, but acts as a more general guideline.
Listening to the great-grandfather of my daughter, who
was in a concentration camp during World War II, I have
started to think about issues like ‘tyranny’ and how people
act in extreme circumstances. My own experiences of it
at different points in my life are also visible in my
works. They tell things that I would not have thought
of beforehand. I pose questions and often the answers
are surprising, questionable and even worrying. I think
my paintings put me in a doubtful position.
Artists’ morality?
Art, especially literature and visual arts, is a free
area. One can basically do anything. I do think about
questions related to morality and ethics a lot. My works
comment on reality and take a stand – in an emotional
way, since I’m emotional. In general, some artists have
morality others don’t.
Kari Immonen
Gallerie Anhava: www.anhava.com
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Elina Merenmies
Ice-Cream Eyes (When Nobody’s Watching)
2000-2001
acryl and oil on plywood
140 x 220
photo: Jussi Tiainen
Courtesy of Galerie Anhava

Dog
2001
ink on paper
32 x 24,5
photo: Jussi Tiainen
Saastamoinen Foundation

Potato
2001
ink on paper
31,5 x 24
photo: Jussi Tiainen
Saastamoinen Foundation

I’ve Had Enough
1998-2000
tempera and oil on canvas
170 x 270
photo: Jussi Tiainen
Courtesy of Galerie Anhava
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