EPÄPAINO

Niina-Anneli Kaarnamo and EPÄPAINO

Niina-Anneli Kaarnamo is searching for so pin-pointed, so indefinable states of being that they lack words to describe them. In any language. They are untranslatable by means of mind. By titling her exhibition as EPÄPAINO she wants to tell us about a state which is approximately like tilting of the scales on which the object is still looking for its exact worth, silently oscillating up and down. And although the weight of that object, phenomenon, thought or feeling is not exactly defined/definable, it nevertheless exists, it's just that we are unable to measure it. At least this is what I understood of Niina's explanation. Not completely wrong and umbehää were scribbled in the notebook as translational counterparts, themselves assessments of the epäpaino state.

I visited the artist in Pärnu a week before the opening of the exhibition, who knows how the meaning might have changed or altered by the time of the opening.

Actually I was a bit taken a back when I found Niina and her cat in a small room at the Artists' House with a passel of papers which had three shapes in different constellations scribbled on them, in marker drawing. I must have hoped for finished objects of whichever kind, but no, there were just lines. This is how Niina described her process of creation: those lines appear from somewhere, she transfers them on paper without worrying whether there's any meaning to them.

„Thought and meaning come later“ she said. „Right now it's the journey. Me, I don't know either why the shapes are like they are, or what they say about me or the world.

She'll start taking those signs, arisen from the unconscious, apart, changing them, sometimes they become three-dimensional, when they're materialized, performed in wood or glass or metal – they relate to each other, Niina and the world, figuratively constituting an atomic model in human measure. And in that structural unit the artist herself is the measure of her objects.
„I usually make the objects to suit my size. My body fits them, I can go inside them or be around them. Do things to them. And some fun should be had as well.“ This should be the place to talk about „the little blue mistake“, but I think it will eventually surface anyway.

„I find that those signs of yours are like pictograms. Like a pictograph of an unknown language. And even if you know that language, every sign means something different on each occurrence, depending on the context,“ I guessed. That's the way I try to understand her art, in my own medium – words. Might be that's the only way of receiving creation – as a strenuous and cumbersome translation that receives a particular shade in each impretator. Because you're looking for something in common, something which speaks to you, something you understand.

„When the shapes had poured out of me onto the paper, I started seeing them everywhere around me,“ said Niina.

„Yes, it's the same with me, when I've completed a writing I start seeing the same themes and thoughts in other writers' work,“ I agreed. „Actually my working process also starts the same way – from some kind of vision and free association. And I never know where it will take me.“ Great, we are totally alike, I thought, satisfied. Maybe I'm conceptual as well? It's said to a writer is: why don't you have a narrative, shithead? Where's all the action? Why is nothing happening? An artist is being castigated about the lack of beautiful colors and masterful realization. What does it even mean? Do you understand what you're even doing?

It's what we are all looking for, the bottom, center and balance of our being. But even if we aren't there yet, it nevertheless exists, somewhere behind words, pictures, signs, feelings and actions.ext

Text: Mudlum
Translation: Martin Luiga

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Niina-Anneli Kaarnamo ja EPÄPAINO

Niina-Anneli Kaarnamo otsib oma kunstis nii peeneid, nii määratlematuid seisundeid, et nende väljendamiseks puuduvad isegi sõnad. Ükskõik mis keeles. Neid ei saa mõistuslikult edasi anda. Pealkirjastanud oma näituse EPÄPAINO tahab ta meile teada anda umbes sellisest seisundist nagu kaalukausside kõikumine, millel asuv objekt alles otsib oma täpset väärtust, vibreerides vaikselt üles-alla. Ja kuigi selle eseme, nähtuse, mõtte või tunde kaal ei ole täpselt määratud/määratav, on see ometi olemas, lihtsalt meie ei suuda seda mõõta. Vähemalt nii jõudis Niina seletus minu mõistusesse. Tõlkevastetena olid märkmikkku kritseldatud – not completely wrong ja umbehää – mis on omakorda hinnangud epäpaino seisundile.

Külastasin kunstnikku Pärnus nädal enne näituse avamist, kes teab, kuidas see tähendus võib olla avamise ajaks muutunud või teisenenud.
Ausalt öeldes olin ma kergelt jahmunud, leides Kunstnike maja pisikesest toast Niina ja tema kassi ning pataka pabereid, millel erinevates konstellatsioonides markeriga sirgeldatud kolm kujundit. Eks ma lootsin valmis objekte, olgu nad siis millised tahes. Aga ei, olid ainult jooned. Ja niimoodi Niina oma loomeprotsessi kirjeldaski – kuskilt ilmuvad jooned, mille tema siis paberile tõmbab, muretsemata selle üle, kas neil ka mingi mõte on.

„Mõte ja tähendus tulevad hiljem” ütles ta. „Praegu on teekond. Ma ise ka ei tea, miks need kujundid on just sellised nagu nad on, mida see ütleb minu või maailma kohta.”

Neid alateadvusest kerkinud märke hakkab ta omakorda osadeks lahti võtma, muutma, mõnikord saavad nad kolmemõõtmeliseks, kui nad materialiseerida, teostada puus või klaasis või metallis – nad suhestuvad üksteise, Niina-Anneli Kaarnamo ja maailmaga, moodustades kujundlikult öeldes inimmõõdulise aatomimudeli. Ja selles struktuurses üksuses on kunstnik ise oma asjade mõõt.
„Enamasti ma valmistan objektid nii, et nad vastavad minu suurusele. Mu keha sobib nendega, ma saan minna nende sisse või olla nende ümber. Teha nendega asju. Ja natuke nalja peab ka saama.”
Siinkohal peaks rääkima „väikesest sinisest veast”. Aga ma arvan, et see lipsab esile niikuinii.

„Minu meelest need märgid on sul nagu piktogrammid. Nagu tundmatu keele piltkiri. Ja isegi kui seda keelt osata, tähendab iga märk iga kord isesuguseid asju, sõltuvalt kontekstist,” arvasin mina. Eks ma püüan ju tema kunsti endale arusaadavaks teha oma mätta otsast -- sõnade abil. Küllap ainult niimoodi saabki loomingut vastu võtta – see on üks vaevaline ja konarlik tõlge, mis igas tõlgendajas saab eriomased varjundid. Otsid ju ühisosa, seda, mis kõnetab, millest saad aru.

„Kui need kujundid olid mu seest paberile voolanud, hakkasin neid enda ümber igal pool nägema,” ütles Niina.

„Jaa, mul on samamoodi, kui ma olen midagi valmis kirjutanud, siis hakkan neid samu mõtteid ja teemasid nägema teiste kirjanike töödes,” kinnitasin vastu. „Õigupoolest algab tööprotsess mul ka nõndasama – mingist nägemusest ja vabast mõttevoolust. Ja kunagi ei tea, kuhu sellega lõpuks jõuab.” Nii tore, me oleme täiesti sarnased, mõtlen rahulolevalt. Äkki olen mina ka kontseptuaalne?
Kirjanikule öeldakse, miks sul sitarattal pole narratiivi. Kus on sündmused? Miks midagi ei juhtu?

Kunstnikule jälle pannakse südamele, kus on su kaunid värvid ja meisterlik teostus? Mis see tähendab üldse? Ise ka saad aru, mis sa teed?
Eks me kõik otsi oma olemise põhja, keset ja tasakaalu. Aga ka siis, kui see pole veel käes, on ta ometi olemas, kuskil sõnade, piltide, märkide, tunnete ja tegude taga.

Tekst: Mudlum