STOP FOR A MOMENT
PAINTING AS NARRATIVE


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

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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