Ritual sence - Ritual I, II, III, IV
Rituals of a Shadow - Ritual I, II, III, IV
2022
Ritual I - Triptih / Triptych, video performance - video
Ritual II - Iniciacija / Initiation, video performance - video
Ritual III - Katarza / Catharsis, performance - video
Ritual IV - Transmutacija / Transmutation, video performance - video
Ritual V - V prah / Into Dust, performance - video
Foto: Davor Kralj in Nataša Ilec Kralj
Zagovor črepinj
Kristina Rutar je kiparka, njena specialnost je keramika. V izhodišču torej, če povsem poenostavim, izdeluje predmete iz gline, iz »brezoblične« snovi (izraz ni ustrezen in bi ga bilo treba dekolonizirati) oblikuje najsibo figure ali abstraktne objekte, ki skozi njene roke in tehnične pripomočke (kakršno je npr. vreteno) dobijo status (umetniških) »subjektov«. Tako snov skozi proces preoblikovanja (denimo gnetenja) postaja plastična, vselej pa sledi načrtni ali spontani umetničini volji.
Do tod so stvari jasne. Zaplete jih proces, ki smo mu priča v umetničinem ciklu Rituali sence. V tem naslovu namreč lahko drugi, nepredikatni del genitivne metafore, sence, razumemo kot negativ, v tem primeru sicer »svetlobe«, vendar v prenesenem pomenu, torej nekega pozitivnega stanja v ospredju. To pozitivno stanje bi bilo v primeru soočenja s snovjo (glino) njeno uobličenje; njen negativ pa lahko razumemo kot njeno »razobličenje«, torej destrukcijo njene oblike do brezobličnosti, pri čemer pa, to je pomembno, sama snov ostaja »nepoškodovana«. Pravzaprav, če smo še bolj natančni, se je sama snov (glina) v oblikovanju že preoblikovala (s postopkom žganja), vendar natančno v funkciji oblike (denimo krogle), njena prvotna materialna in nepovratna transformacija je bila načrtovana in nadzorovana.
A nič drugače ni z njeno drugotno »destrukcijo«: tudi ta je načrtovana in nadzorovana. Ali lahko torej v tem primeru govorimo o novem prehodu snovi (gline) preko njenega primarnega nepovratnega preoblikovanja (žganja) v sekundarno (ne)obliko, pri čemer nikalni oklepaj morda niti ne bi bil potreben? Gre torej zgolj za novo »oblikovanje« (v črepinje), ki pač sledi drugačnim tehnološkim procesom in kot tako še vedno sodi v polje u-stvarjanja, torej kiparstva ali keramike?
Da in ne. Po eni strani dematerializacija kiparske snovi res še vedno sodi v polje »oblikovanja« ali kreacije, kljub svojim »dekreativnim« konotacijam. Proces fragmentacije neke forme poudari avtonomijo fragmenta, njegovo suverenost napram nekdanji celostnostni »hegemoniji«; če povemo z metaforo, razbiti vrč sicer ne drži več vode, vendar vsaka njegova črepinja neizbrisno nosi signaturo ali »vodni žig« subjekta. Fragmentacija ne pomeni nujno tudi razpustitve povezanosti ali skupnosti, temveč lahko povzdigne singularnost, resnični predpogoj vsake skupnosti.
Po drugi strani se proces fragmentacije pokaže kot značilni crossover, ki v proces preoblikovanja umetniškega dela nujno vplete njenega stvaritelja. Tudi kadar umetniško delo (kip, keramični artefakt) na svoji površini ali v globini nezmotljivo priča o samem procesu »izdelave« (sledi roke ipd.), je na »razstavi« (tudi ta izraz bi bilo treba na novo premisliti) upravičeno prisoten kot »subjekt«, že oddaljen od avtorja. Njegovo »delo« je vpisano v samo imanenco objekta kot »samoumevno«, razen če proces oblikovanja ni sestavni del razstave. V Ritualih sence pa smo priče neki drugi »razstavi«, torej raz-stavljanju objektov v neko njihovo kontingentno elementarnost. Za to je potrebna živa prisotnost, še več, aktivnost njihove »stvarnice«. Vizualno ali »likovno« substanco objektov nenadoma (pre)preči performativno dejanje, ki njihov status v hipu prevrednoti.
Kaj se v resnici spremeni? Na prvi pogled le malo. Objekti (krogle), ki se pred nami sprva vzpostavijo kot zaključena, pa čeprav še tako elementarna, prvinska umetniška dela, v katera je vpisana avtorska kreativna volja, se v naslednjem hipu spremenijo v efemerne črepinje, v »prah in pepel«. Na videz velika sprememba: oblika pred našimi očmi z udarcem težkega kladiva ali pod težo telesa postane neoblika, tridimenzionalni volumen se z eno samo gesto, upoštevajoč upornost same snovi, ki na zunanje posege reagira v obeh svojih agregatnih stanjih, gnetljivem in žganem, razlije po prostoru kot ena sama dimenzija, recimo ji razsežnost poti, ki vabi tako k fizičnemu kot filozofskemu »sprehodu«. Tisto, kar ostaja nespremenjeno, je snov, ki zgolj fragmentira zaradi svoje fragilnosti, postane nova oblika, pa čeprav kot neoblika, vendar zdaj v novem vrednostnem sistemu, sama preobrazba je še vedno rezultat avtonomne kreativne volje kiparke.
Kar se spremeni na drugi pogled, torej manj opazno, je (estetski) predstavljalni režim. Z vstopom kiparke, ki zdaj postane performerka, se na novo definirajo tako njeno dejanje, material, s katerim ima opravka, prostor, v katerem dejanje poteka, kot vidiki njegove recepcije. Kiparska »razstava« postane performativna instalacija, v same objekte vpisano (imanentno) kreativno dejanje je zdaj pozunanjeno, »gledalec«, ki prej zgolj v svoji domišljiji dekonstruira sam kreativni akt, je zdaj živa priča njegovi izvedbi s poudarkom na ponavljanju in trajanju. Še bolj pomembna pa je tranzicija receptivne pozornosti iz umetniškega objekta (čeprav do kraja subjektiviziranega) na performativno telo, ki je hkrati, ko proizvaja estetske učinke, (objektivni) estetski »učinek« tudi sam po sebi. Pred gledalcem, ki v nekem segmentu postane tudi participativni udeleženec dogodka (v živo posluša značilne zvoke razbijanja, nehote mu v nosnice sili prah, morda vanj prileti kak okrušek razbite krogle, lahko celo stopi na črepinjo), se tako odvije celostno umetniško delo, performans, pri katerem so nekdanji umetniški artefakti zgolj pripomočki ali »rekviziti« za njegovo izvedbo, večina pozornosti pa je usmerjena v samo performativno dejanje, torej v zvezo med umetničinim telesom in njenim »delom«.
Nič novega in nič »posebnega«, bi lahko rekli, performans se je (kot hepening) rodil ravno v galeriji ali umetniškem ateljeju in performativnost sodobne umetnosti je že generični pojem. A vendarle nekaj (p)osebnega: Rituali sence, če jih prevedemo v ob-rede, v svet senc vnašajo določen red, nov, posvečeni red, ki pa je v resnici »posvečen« vsemu zemeljskemu, od koder izvira tudi njihova izvirna snov. Če si fragmente prevedemo kot koščke ali ostanke (snovi), ugotovimo, da se v resnici ravno v njih skriva tisto, kar ostane, pa čeprav razpuščeno in brez prvotne oblike. Toda – ali ni prav v tem njihov čar? Mar ne nosijo kot taki v sebi vpisane (na sebi zapisane) tiste nove (v resnici pa že stare – pomislimo na antično prakso ostrakizma) demokratičnosti ali »političnosti«, na katero smo, v nenehnem iskanju popolnih oblik, že skoraj popolnoma pozabili?
Ali, brez pretirane tendencioznosti: ali ni denimo ploščica za pisanje, »ta popolnoma ravna plošča, na kateri ni še nič zapisano«, pravzaprav »absolutna potencialnost«, kot pravi Agamben, sledeč Damaskiju, ali »poslednja meja, ki jo misel še lahko doseže« – torej tisti nič, na katerem šele lahko vznikne vse možno? Pri čemer pa se ta v-se ne nanaša na nič zunanjega, temveč predvsem na-se, torej na tisti se, ki vznika ravno iz prahu in črepinj – in se vanj tudi vrača ...
Blaž Lukan
In Defense of Shards
Kristina Rutar is a sculptor specializing in ceramics. To be utterly reductionist, principally she forms shapes from clay; thus, from a formless mass (this phrase is inappropriate and should be decolonized), she sculpts both concrete figures and abstract objects, which through her hands and tools (such as her spinning wheel) take on the status of (artistic) “subjects”. Through her transformative process (for instance kneading), the clay becomes malleable, submitting to her either planned or spontaneous artistic whim.
So far, so clear. However, they take on a new level of complexity in the process we are witness to in the artistic cycle Rituals of a Shadow. Namely, the second part of the title, the prepositionally subordinated metaphor of shadow, is understood negatively, while the “light” that causes it, by analogous extrapolation, is perceived as in an accentuated positive role at the forefront. In the case of working with clay, this positive state is in its transformation; the negative state can be understood, then, as its “deformation”, or the destruction of its shape to the point of formlessness, although, and this is important to stress, the clay remains undamaged as such. Actually, if we are to be more precise, the medium itself (clay) has been transformed (through the firing process) during its formation, although specifically in the function of form (let’s say spheres), its primary and irreversible material transformation was planned and supervised.
However, the same holds for its secondary “deconstruction”, which is similarly planned and supervised. Is it thus possible to entertain discussion about the medium’s (clay’s) new transition beyond its primary permanent transformation (firing) into a secondary (non-)form, where the negating parenthetical perhaps isn’t even necessary? Is it therefore merely new “formation” (into shards), following, as it were, different technological processes and does it, as such, still belong to the realm of creation, therefore sculpture or ceramics?
Yes and no. On one hand, the dematerialization of the sculpting medium is truly still part of the domain of “creation”, despite its “de-creative” connotations. The process of fragmenting a given shape emphasizes that fragment’s freedom, its autonomy in contradistinction to an overarching “hegemony”; to apply a metaphor, a shattered pitcher no longer holds water, but each shard nonetheless bears the subject’s indelible signature, or an “aqueous stamp”. Fragmentation does not necessarily also mean dissolving one’s bonds to a group or whole, but on the contrary it can even elevate singularity, the true prerequisite of any whole.
On the other hand, the fragmentation process is seen as a typical crossover, which in an artwork’s transformative process necessarily overlaps with its creator. Even when a piece of art (statue, ceramic artefact, etc.), whether on its surface or deep within, attests unmistakably as to the process of its construction (marks left by hands, etc.), at its exhibition (another expression that should be rethought), it is rightly displayed as a “subject”, well removed from its creator. That creator’s “work” is engraved in the object’s very immanence as “self-evident”, unless the creative process is not an integral part of the exhibition. Rituals of a Shadow makes us witness to a different “exhibition”, therefore a DE-exhibition of objects into their contingent elementality. This requires the physical presence, or more an actual active role, from their “creator”. The objects’ visual or “artistic” substance is trascENDed by a performative action, one by which their status is instantly revaluated.
What is actually transformed? But little at first glance. The objects (spheres), which are ostensibly portrayed at first as a finished, albeit rather raw and rudimentary, artistic piece, onto which the artist’s creative will was imposed, are transformed the next instant into ephemeral shards, into “dust and ash”. A seemingly big change: the form before our eyes, either by hammer blow or crushed under bodyweight, becomes formless; with one motion, its 3-D volume, considering the resistance of the medium itself, which in both of its aggregate states – both kneadable and fired – reacts to external influence, pours out into space as one sole dimension, let’s call it the dimension of path, beckoning viewers towards both a physical and philosophical “stroll”. What does remain unchanged is the medium itself, merely fragmenting due to its frailty; it takes on a new form, although that form is shapeless, but in the new framework for valuation, the transformation is still the result of the sculptor’s autonomous creative will.
What is transformed upon second glance, therefore even less obviously, is the (aesthetic) system of portrayal. The arrival of the artist, who has now become a performer, redefines her action, the material she’s acting upon, and the room in which the action unfolds, as well as her audience’s perceptions. The sculpture “exhibition” becomes a performative installation, as the (immanent) creative action imprinted upon the objects has now been externalized, while the “viewer”, who earlier deconstructed the creative act merely with their imagination, now bears witness to its actual execution, with an emphasis on repetition and sustainability. Even more important is the transition of receptive attention from artistic object (although completely subjectivized) to the performative body, which, just as it creates aesthetic effects outward, is also an (objective) aesthetic “effect” in and of itself. In front of the viewer, who in some sense becomes a participant in the event (listening in person to the sound of splintering, perhaps inhaling a bit of expanding dust, maybe being struck by a stray shard, even potentially stepping on a fragment), there transpires a comprehensive artistic work, a performance in which what used to count as artefacts now become mere tools or “devices” for its very staging, with the majority of attention being drawn to the performative act itself, therefore between the artist’s body and her “work”.
Nothing new and nothing “special” we could say; the performance (as a happening) was born in the gallery or in an art studio, and the performative nature of modern art has long since become a generic concept. Nonetheless, it is something eSPECIALly personal: Dissecting the name, Rituals of a Shadow brings a certain order to the world of shade, a new, consecrated order, into whose “rite” is initiated everything earthly, whence the primary medium itself was drawn. If we understand “fragments” as bits and relics (of that medium), we find that, in truth, they hide exactly that which remains, even if in a de(con)structed state that belies its original form. But isn’t their charm in exactly that? Do they not as such bear inscribed within them (and not prescribed upon them) those new (or even ancient, if we consider the antique practice of ostracism) democracies or “politicalities”, which, in our incessant search for perfection of form, nearly entirely forgotten.
Or, without being overly tendentious: for instance, is not a writing pad, “that perfectly flat plate on which nothing has yet been written", in fact "absolute potentiality", as Agamben says, following Damascius, or "the ultimate limit to which thought can still reach" – ergo that tabula rasa, upon which everything possible can arise? And that “arising” here does not refer to anything accidentally occurring, but to the entity that “rises” from the dust and shards, to which it ultimately also returns...[
Blaž Lukan