Were you somehow inspired by reality?
Many seeds and their shape seemingly belong to some alien world. But no, they are daily life reality. They exist in millions of varieties in our daily surroundings. Blowing in the wind, floating on the rivers, carried along by animals with seeds sticking to their fur, or carried by people not knowing about the seed on the left sleeve of their jacket, or under their right shoe. Carried to new roadsides and ditches, fields and meadows, forests and gardens, building sites and waste ground.
I am an eager gardener. In our kitchen garden I grow almost all greens that my family and I need. I grew up at an agricultural school where my father was teaching. 11 years old I had my first summer job weeding carrots, beans and onions. So I was exposed to weeds early. However, it was not until I had worked as a professional artist for several years that I discovered the beauty of seeds – thanks to botanist Emil Korsmo’s book 'Anatomy of Weeds’, and thanks to a mirror glass.
How do you see your craft connect to the craft of cinema? What first drew you to your craft?
Any kind of visual art depends on the eye. This is true for the craft of cinema as well as for the craft of sculpture. I have to ask myself these questions all the time: What do I see – literally around me, as well as in my dreams, aspirations and visions? And where can I find a language to express what I see? How can my idea be materialized? When is an idea turning into something more than an idea? When is it transformed into art, into poetry and magic? Sometimes I draw, sometimes I write, sometimes I do land art, mail art or installations, or I embroider or even make a small video (as the 2 minutes projection for FEMINA 8, Cinematheque of N. Macedonia in June). However, I always return to sculpture, most often to stone.
What challenges did you face?
I am attracted to the physical aspect of sculpting and carving, the state of fighting and struggling, using not only my brain, but my muscles. There is this old Genesis story of Jacob wrestling all night with God so that his hip is wrenched. When daybreak comes, God suggests to stop the wrestling, but Jacob urges for a blessing: ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me.’ As artists we have to be stayers and believers, we need to be patient and persistent, pursuing the task given us, to the very end.
In our digital age, what is the value of craftsmanship and why do we need it, do you think?
We must not forget the intelligence of the hand. We must not lose what can be touched and felt like cool silk or raw stone, warm sand or wet rain, mist or dewdrops. Man is made for craftsmanship and for cultivating the soil, not for sitting all day long in front of computers, although craftsmanship may include digital work. The more our age is digitalized, the more analogue craftsmanship is needed too, to keep ourselves and the world in balance, not to lose our humanity.
How do you want your sculpture to feel in the eyes of the viewer?
What you see is not always what you think. And what you think is not always what you see. If the viewer is surprised, it is good. As metaphor the seed has various and rich readings. The seed expresses a new beginning, possibilities, life and hope – in a very wide sense. In one of my catalogues poet Paal-Helge Haugen writes on the paradox of the seed:
‘It is in rest, a still point between two dynamic processes, between decay and growth. […] There are seeds that lie dormant for centuries, millenia, in the desert, in tombs, in sarcophagi, before they are unearthed and sprout. A seed is pure latency, charged stasis. In itself unchangeable, it speaks of change. Carved in stone it becomes an image of an image. Light becomes heavy, small becomes large, the inorganic organic.’
The importance of seeds and their potential is existential and absolute. Without plants and their seeds, mankind will simply not survive. Nor will it survive without art and culture, for which MIRAGE is an outstanding exponent.
