Kirill Khrustalev's Neighbours: A Sentimental Journey Around the Room

This is the first of a series of the post Arty Summer 2013 of going through my archives and uploading photos from the exhibitions I have been to and still have not gone through photos yet. 

I present to your attention a witty conceptual exhibition Neighbours at Pechersky Gallery located on Moscow's Winzavod territory by Kiril Khrustalev from Saint-Petersburg. 

Kirill Khrustalev, Matter and Stone, 2009

Kirill Khrustalev, Cup with Banded Ear, 2011 

 Kirill Khrustalev, Sorrow, 2012 

  Kirill Khrustalev, Matchpeg (Impatient), 2009

 Kirill Khrustalev, Shoot (Росток), 2013

 Kirill Khrustalev, Laocoon and his sons, 2010

 Kirill Khrustalev, Antique, 2012

Kirill Khrustalev, Vesuvi for Tea, 2011 

 Kirill Khrustalev, The Great Bear, 2012

 Kirill Khrustalev, Reached the Bottom at 17:03, 23.03.2012

 Kirill Khrustalev, The Honest Bottletop, 2012

 Kirill Khrustalev, Sunset at the Top, 2009

 Kirill Khrustalev, Escape, 2009 

   Kirill Khrustalev, The Thirst for Things, 2011 

  Kirill Khrustalev, The Last Leaf, 2010  

Kirill Khrustalev, On Rare Discases of the Retina, 2011 

Kirill Khrustalev, The Golden Rush, 2012 

 Kirill Khrustalev, Caterpillar, 2011

 Kirill Khrustalev, I am Working With Form, 2012

Times New Roman. Эпизод 3: Москва

Kandinsky Prize announced its winner of Young Artist: Project of the Year.

Photo project «Times New Roman. Эпизод 3: Москва» (Times New Roman. Episode 3: Moscow) by Timofiei Parshchikov (son of Olga Sviblova, the Moscow House of Photography) depicts pseudo-classical sculptures sold at roadsides to elite village community of Russian nouveaux riches who like Romans back in their times adorn their villas with marble-white gods and goddesses sculptures. Will this kitsch later on become an aesthetic symbol of its epoch (also as Roman art copying Greek one or 20th century Empire style copying Roman art, all considering to be kitsch back in their times) is something that the artist predicts.

 

Photo source: www.mn.ru

Some Thoughts on Museums After Reading Tomislav Šola. Part I

Few days ago I was reading an article in Artguide, an extract from a book about 25 deadly sins of contemporary museums by Tomislav Šola (which trace I failed to find on Amazon or any online/offline retailer).  This article summed up my own concerns and thoughts about how many museum fail to make the exhibitions interesting and even visitor-friendly. For Croatian Šola and his colleagues visitor-friendliness includes interaction and ability to learn, comfortable chairs, readable and legible signage, no queues in the toilets, ability to get a cup of coffee, etc. - all those indispensable characteristics of a good modern museum. 

What about the atmosphere itself? It’s de-facto that a visitor is welcomed to a museum as he/she agrees to spend both the time and the money there. Museums compete for sponsors' money, visitors' attention and positive feedback in social media, all interlinked and important. But this basic and incontestable free market economy's rule of making your client/customer happy is non-existent in most of ex-Soviet countries' state museums, even those that are considered the titans and elite in museum world, relatively progressive and open-minded, time to time show hostile attitude to a visitor. A centuries-long "Who is to Blame?" question posed by a Russian writer Hertzen can be also asked in this matter, but it is a type of question that cannot be answered in one sentence, yet the attempt to answer it will drive me away from the main purpose of the post. 

When I step in a state-owned museum, be it in Russia, Azerbaijan or Kazakhstan, I feel very unwelcome as if I disturbed someone at 2AM with my call or unexpected visit. There are, of course some exceptions, those who truly enjoy their work and for whom low salaries or other challenges/problems do not leave a mark on their face and overall mood, but usually museum employees seem to be always irritated and speak through set teeth or stare at you with suspicion while you move from one item to another controlling that no photos are taken or a cellphone is picked to answer a call. To me it was twofold surprising to experience this kind of strict control over phones and cameras usage in The History of Soviet Pavilions, Part I exhibition curated by Marina Loshak who in her interview to Russian TV along with discussing her vision of being a newly appointed director of State Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts in Moscow highlighted the fact that she is against controlling visitors or prohibiting them to take pictures as this is a way of interaction and learning. 

Unfortunately, Manez has no English language website - 

a shame to one of the best Moscow's contemporary exhibition spaces

Prohibiting taking no-flash pictures, in my opinion, is inappropriate and badly managed anyway. This tendency did not come by private art centers. In artist-owned Gapchinska gallery in Kiev I was explained that this is artist’s will and a way to fight copycats. In private Pinchuk Art Center before I made a disappointed face the guide had told me that I could find high quality pictures of all pieces from ChinaChina exhibition online, so I was happy at the end. Still, I believe that whoever wants and needs to take a picture will definitely leave the place with a bunch of photos or find them online elsewhere. On this occasion, I have an unforgettable story of a challenge when in a group of three we spent around 10-15 minutes to distract attention of Turin's Castello di Rivara's attendants so that our friend takes a photo of Maurizio Cattelan’s Novecento piece (a taxidermied horse hanging from the ceiling) that I actually now found on artist's website! Probably, the level of excitement, fun and childish mischief we all shared can be only knocked off by Godard's scene of running through Louvre.

Maurizio Cattelan, Novecento, 1997. Photo by Paolo Pellion di Persano. Courtesy of the artist

Even with no photo policy, Pinchuk's center holds the garland of victory in my list of contemporary art experiences in five ex-Soviet countries I have been so far, maybe since it is private, organized by a passionate art collector who invests a lot to develop new activities managed by a foreigner. Going to state museums unless it's Hermitage or anything as significant and target international visitors, is usually depressing. The Night of Museum in Almaty made me regret of leaving my hotel room as all expositions were closed, the biggest attraction was taking a photo with parrots and sleepy owls at the entrance, inside there was a fair of badly made crafts displayed in self-made booths and creepy things like a book titled "Life Through The Prism of Death" that I even was afraid to open... Maybe it is wrong to generalize the entire country's museums based on the visit to the Central State Museum, the biggest in whole Central Asia, but the photo of the hall below speaks for itself.

On the photo: people dancing under weird music mixed with Yuri Gagarin's historical April 12, 1961 speech. 

In all CIS countries I've been so far, private art centers are more innovative and dynamic, yet relationship management and communication ethics is uneven: I left Moscow's Winzavod with mixed feelings as I really enjoyed the site, but not that much restaurant service or my conversations with some of the galleries employees finding them extremely rude or arrogant (or both) once they have cleared that I am not intending to buy anything on the spot. Owned by Dasha Zhukova, Garage Center for Contemporary Culture (GCCC) in Moscow had expensive tickets, but well-curated events. Plus, it was the first time an  employee, a young female, smiled and wished me a nice day when issuing the ticket! However, I did not get why in such a small perimeter there were so many employees, ca. fifty vs. at most twenty five-thirty visitors. In addition to young attendants dispersed few meters away from one another and thus outnumbering the visitors in the exhibition space, there were few London-club bouncer-like males dressed in Men in Black style suits walking in the park. These professional bodyguards' mission remained unclear to me as neither Dasha nor her rich husband were anywhere close, the artists on display were famous, but not contemporary art superstars like Gerhard Richter or Jeff Koons, so I felt very sorry about these emotion-free guys looking so odd around children's playground and hipster-favorite outdoor resting zone. Ah, and of course, cameras in each corner complemented the feeling of Big Brother silently watching every step one takes. 

I didn't have guts to take a picture of Men in Black bouncers, so instead enjoy the 

picture of Garage's ad - a friendly invitation to be in the center of contemporary culture 

Despite all of above pitfalls, it will be wrong not to mention that both state-owned Manez and Winzavod/Garage CCC exhibitions were exceptionally interesting and enriching and sooner or later I finally finish editing my posts from this summer. Also, Šola would be probably happy to discover that Garage's restaurant offered a very nice menu, had a summer terrace and restaurant's employees were friendly enough to let me leave my laptop charging while I walk around the exhibitions with a phrase "sure, we will keep an eye on it, but no one will steal it anyway" (a double-meaning phrase that either sheds some light why they would need those bouncers-like security in the garden or just an acknowledgment that my ugly Lenovo work laptop was not sexy enough to be stolen in Moscow's center for contemporary culture).  

Senza Titolo

Few Sundays ago I did unprecedented thing: I woke up early! Moreover, I paid a visit to Hangar Bicocca to check out Mike Kelley’s Eternity is a Long Time (click here for a separate post).

Hangar Bicocca located in north-eastern outskirts of Milan, did not evade the hip-destiny of an industrial zone swallowed by a growing city – its spacious area has been transformed into a territory of art and design. One of the three aisles of the space is currently occupied by a permanent I Sette Palazzi Celesti  (“Seven Heavenly Palaces”) by Anselm Kiefer, the only living artist in Louvre’s permanent collection, who is also best known for La Ribaute project at Barjac. The latter was a direct inspiration to the “Seven Heavenly Palaces” installation – seven towers which height varies from 14 to 18 meters made of piled food transportation containers – an enormous and ambitious project that unites Kiefer’s main themes – Judaism, post-Second World War ruins, mysticism and mythology, and philosophy. The title refers to ancient Hebrew the Book of Palaces/Sanctuaries about a symbolic and spiritual journey.

 Source: Hangar Bicocca

Sefiroth – the first and the lowest tower – represents 

ten names (neon lights) of the ten expressions/instruments of God

One of the names "Malkuth" ("Kingdom"). Source: Hangar Bicocca

JH&WH – surrounded by irregularly shaped meteorites in molten lead 

scattered at their base represent the myth of life-creation according to 

Kabbalah of the Earth and the Jewish diaspora. If joined together the 

neon toppings of the towers – JH and WH – phonetically form the word

 “Yahweh”, the inexpressible name for Jews. 

Tower of the Falling Pictures – the tower with invisible 

framed pictures. Source: Hangar Bicocca

Remaining towers are: Melancholia – linked to Albrecht Durer 1514 engraving, Saturn planet (reference to artists’ patron planet); Ararat; Magic Field Lines – the tallest tower with a film of led (a material which repels rays of light and thus does not allow any image to be produced) that runs across the tower symbolizes the attempts of various generations to erase cultures or identity of the others (e.g., time of Luther vs. Byzantine era or Nazis vs. Jewish culture).

The ruins for Kiefer are the symbol of inevitable defeat of human ambition when aspiring towards a superior and almost divine level. Same topic was raised by The Ruins of Industrial («Руины индустриального») on show at Moscow’s Regina Gallery. The artist, Vladimir Logutov collected the artifacts of an imaginary industrial territory: broken and shed metal pieces scarcely located across the exhibition space that create a feeling of emptiness and solitude. The leitmotif of collapse is best seen in the video where we observe a lady leaning towards a classical balustrade peacefully and apathetically observing the chaos surrounding her. 

Worth to mention that the contrast between the romantic white colonnade and industrial landscape is non-invented but found by the artist from a park in Izhevsk city. 

Artist himself associates his work with caducity of Dutch still life “vanitas” with a human scull as the central object.

Vanitas (1630) by Pieter Claesz

Contemporary Vanitas - Clown Skull by Vik Muniz

The topic of evanescence is revealed from another angle in the work Senza Titolo by Jannis Kounellis, one of the representatives of “Arte Povera” movement that were exploring the incorporation of “primitive” materials, such as wood, lead, burlap sacks, coffee beans, coal, etc. 

It was with the set of design for Heiner Muller’s play Mauser (1991, Berlin) that the artist first used half of a dozen cabinets suspended in mid-air. In 1993 at the Albergo dei Poveri in Palermo Jannis Kounellis further develops the project and presents in absolutely empty space Senza titolo installation currently on exposition at RISO museum in Palermo. Here, artist focuses on the relationship between the present and the past.  I find this exploration even more full if one takes a look outside on a street: the installation is well incorporated not only in museum's interior but is also in harmony with tatty and decaying Piazza Bologni.

Source: Mobilita Palermo

Some artists instead of suspending objects suspend themselves. 

The Levitation of Saint Teresa, 2010, Marina Abramovic