Elina Merenmies
The possibilities of painting?
It is the ultimate means of expression. I am not at all
worried about its future possibilities. From my own viewpoint,
I am interested in the emergence of the subconscious in
the painting process. It is not so intellectual and thought-out,
but allows room for slightly odder stuff, the kind of
thing that can't be explained.
Painting is entirely its own thing. You see so clearly
when there is something in it. It is a sum of coincidences
and intentional acts - material is taken away and added.
How the end result comes about is a total mystery. It
is like thinking about how an autistic person is able
to recite the phone book from memory.
What is your own background?
It is there in certain modes of expressions in the margins.
The starting point has always been a certain rebellious
spirit. It starts from popular art and experimental music.
I have been involved with all sorts of subcultures and
played in bands.
Has your outlook or attitude changed as your career
has developed?
No. I am amazed that I have reached such a big audience.
On the other hand, if I show my own invitation cards,
then the first comment is that at least this is not a
commercial exhibition. But I don't have any difficulties
living with change. It's more of a good thing, since I
have had to go through enough difficulties.
Have you collaborated with other artists?
Yes. Alongside playing in a band, I have made radio programmes,
and, in fact, right now I am making my first animation
for the collective video of the French group Le Dernier
Cri. The theme is untamed religions. In the work - surprisingly
- the executioner, who has a Mullet haircut, whips some
good teddy bears. The experiment has been interesting.
I have been able to create a whole world, with its own
story, out of my drawings.
The significance of time abroad?
That's important. I lived abroad for several years -
in France, the Czech Republic and Belgium. I spent many
years drifting from one country to another without knowing
the language. I did all sorts of things for a while. Lived
in occupied buildings, played music in empty water towers
and toured catacombs. My feet weren't quite on the ground,
but it gave meaning to life for a while.
I moved back to Finland, because I simply had to make
a decision and stick with something. Otherwise nothing
at all would have come of the work any more. Having my
own child also creates a sense of proportion. I woke up
with a feeling that now I want to tend my own garden and
large aquarium, with lizards and those sort of things
in it. Things you can't do if you live in a Skoda.
What do you read?
Recently I have been reading novels and non-fiction related
to Middle-East politics and Christianity, especially the
Orthodox churches. And then, of course, The Bible.
Why The Bible?
I've always had it with me, through all my trips. In
the beginning it felt strange. I didn't go to Sunday school,
but when I was in school I knew about that stuff - i.e.
the stories, that I was supposed to know nothing about.
I don't understand it. My daughter seems to have the same
aptitude. But the Bible works like a mirror for me. It
is a means of investigating what you yourself think. A
way of looking for things in your own mind, that you wouldn't
otherwise understand. It is also a way of understanding
your own motivations.
Where would you place yourself in the field of contemporary
art?
I feel I am a kindred soul with very many artists, and
in many different ways. Music is often a common factor.
I might, for example, mention Jukka Korkeila and Marianna
Uutinen. And then a slightly more exotic name: Ota Keiti.
He is a Japanese illustrator, who makes quite UFO-like
stuff. I like the earlier ones, in which disciplined schoolboys
in their just-so outfits carry out mass-suicides by hanging.
Nowadays he draws erotic women, who are sawn up, and it
is not so much fun at all.
You mentioned in an earlier interview that suffering
is your viewpoint. Why?
It is totally unintentional. It starts from personal
feelings, from dealing with them. From inevitability.
And the feeling of suffering does not change, since not
a day goes by that I don't remember it. Now, I can no
longer say that my life is one long incredible round of
suffering, but I have had to experience quite enough of
all sorts of shit. I have come to the conclusion that
there is an extremely large amount of evil in the world
absolutely everywhere. We live in a fallen state, as the
Orthodox say. To me the world looks like a Bosch painting,
it is limbo.
But why add to the handling of the suffering? If I
were to ask really naively, why don't you paint beautiful
flowers?
I have in fact actually tried to deal solely with beautiful,
aesthetic things, but nothing at all came of it. It was
horribly perverse.
Your attitude to teaching?
Teaching is interesting and important. You meet people,
you can put good things into practice and pass on things
you know. Teaching is enjoyable, if you can do it with
people who are serious about it. Some find it difficult,
but I don't. At first I actually thought I wasn't suited
for it, but then I got positive feedback.
The future?
(loud snorting laugh) The classic Finnish punk band Lama,
did a track called Tulevaisuus (The Future). It ends with
an atomic bomb exploding. You can never know anything
about the future. You try to build all sorts of things,
and then suddenly round the corner a brick can fall on
your head.
Mika Hannula
Translated by Mike Garner
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