Are still lifes still relevant as an artistic phenomenon in the 21st century? And what does the word “still life” actually mean? This exhibition may not provide direct answers to these questions, but it offers new perspectives on what at first glance might seem like a rather simple subject.
In its literal translation, “still life” means “dead nature,” but where is the boundary between the different states of that same nature? When does a painting depict objects that are dead, and when are they still alive? And how do we mark or recognize this state of “life” at all?
Artists Daniil Južaninov and Daniil Logovoi have created their still lifes in different media, interpreting the genre through their own personal perspectives.
At times dark and dramatic, at others theatrical and romantic, these works reflect on the naturalness of the traditional still life, the composition and coexistence of natural and man-made objects, and the role of death within this genre.
In some ways, the exhibition was also inspired by a critical rethinking of the enormous production of still lifes in the Netherlands during the 16th and 17th centuries.
The accompanying text for this exhibition is a fairy tale written by the curator Ilja Jakovlev, created as an alternative to the traditional curatorial text.
...
Along a dusty and endless road walked the White Skeleton. Cheerfully and brightly he carried his burden, the echo of his bony steps ringing in rhythm with the relentless chime of approaching time.
On his way, the Skeleton met a hungry dog. The dog was thin, its ribs showing through, its fur patchy, its brows hanging low under the heavy burden of a wanderer’s loneliness. The dog did not complain to the Skeleton about its hunger. The Skeleton gave it one of his own bones so the dog could feed on its marrow. Thus the Skeleton’s first sacrifice was made - in the name of food and sustenance, for the indifferent continuation of another life.
Moving further along the road, the Skeleton encountered a boy. He was dressed like a peasant, in torn clothes and worn bast shoes. The boy was poor and hungry, yet he did not complain about his life. He only said that he wished to feel joy. The Skeleton then gave him one of his bones, from which the boy made a flute, playing beautiful music on it day and night. By playing the flute at the fair, the boy earned money. Thus the Skeleton’s second sacrifice was made - in the name of intellectual hunger and culture, especially music.
Further on his journey, the Skeleton met a young man. Unlike the dog and the boy, he was handsome, full of youth, energy, and strength. The man noticed that several bones were already missing from the Skeleton and began asking him about it. The Skeleton and the man sat under a roadside tree and spoke for many days and nights. Even between the living and the dead, their souls reflected one another. In each other they found support and hope, acceptance and peace. But the Skeleton could not remain in one place - he had to continue his road. As a remembrance, he gave the man several of his bones. From them the man carved beautiful engraved rings and chess pieces, which he later sold to a wealthy merchant. Thus the Skeleton’s third sacrifice was made - in the name of love and art.
One night, continuing his journey, the Skeleton passed by rosehip bushes. Stumbling over something, he fell and scattered into dozens of white bones, clattering as they struck the ground. From behind the bushes came an old woman. It was she who had tripped the Skeleton, and with a sly smile she began gathering his bones into a sack. Thus the Skeleton’s fourth sacrifice was made - in the name of magic and rituals, some of which saved lives while others took them.
Only three bones remained of the Skeleton: the skull and two shin bones. The skull rolled along the road with the help of the shin bones until they reached a hill and fell asleep there in silence and peace among thorny bushes. That hill was Golgotha. And when it was once sprinkled with the blood of Christ crucified upon it, the Skeleton made his final, fifth sacrifice - a sacrifice in the name of Humanity.
Pictures: https://www.okapi.ee/projektid
Text: Ilja Jakovlev
Curator: Ilja Jakovlev
Graphic designer: Ksenia Kvitko