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Thinking About Life as an Art Project

Ieva Astahovska
16/01/2012

Kaido Ole (1963) is one the most prominent of Estonia's painters. Since the early 1990's, he's had around 30 solo shows, many of them done in cooperation with Marko Mäetamm, with whom he created his internationally best-known work about the fictional artist, John Smith – in 2003, John Smith's project, “Kaido and Marko”, represented Estonia at the Venice Biennale. In Latvia, Kaido Ole's works have been exhibited in a solo show in 2008 at Riga Art Space (along with Tõnis Saadoja), and at the Cēsis Art Festival (2009). From January 27 through April 15, an ambitious solo show featuring Kaido Ole's works will be held at Estonia's contemporary art museum, KUMU.


Big Social Still Life. 2011

At the end of January, you will open your new personal exhibition, Handsome Hero and Plenty of Still Lifes, at Kumu art museum, in Tallinn. Will they be works that continue what you’ve been doing before, or will they be something completely new?

There will be totally new works, specially done for this show. But in some sense, you always continue what you’ve been doing before, even if you try to do something absolutely different. My previous two or three projects were more based on trying to make things as clear as possible, at least for myself. Maybe not, “what is the meaning of life”, but what is the most important thing for me at the moment, and how to say it in the most clear way. It is both the freedom and the tragedy of art that it is quite hard for it to send its message out here and now. Right now, I’m saying something using my tongue, but I have to find some form to make the same thing understandable through art. With my last projects, I was trying to make it as clear as possible, and then I was told that it is already gone too far, that everything is so clear that something important is already missing. The upcoming show will be something very different. I’m not trying to look on these things from too close of a position. For both me and the audience, there is a bit more of an opportunity to choose, to find some other angle to look at this. And as to the question, “what is this show about?”, there might be more opinions.


Still Life about Everlasting Harmony and Peace. 2011

But in general – in the new show there will be paintings, still lifes. With paintings, a very common and understandable reaction that people have, at least with the first glimpse, is: Oh, it’s a painting – nice; I can manage this. But this is even more so the case with still lifes: Yes, great, this is even more understandable – I like still lifes! There is nothing disturbing and nothing incomprehensible, just pure joy.

I associate still lifes with an interest in a form of art which, I'm guessing, is not your main interest. You mentioned that you try to tell something with your art. Could we say that your art is conceptual in the sense that it is telling us something – like a language? And what are your new still lifes telling us?

In the most general way, all art, including these still lifes, should give everyone a wider understanding of something. If someone is sure that he knows something about this and that, then, when adding on this new experience, he should see that the picture is more complicated than once thought; one must realize that he or she can’t any longer say – this is my final understanding of the world, of things, or of art. There is some sort of educational, or confusing, moment, when something new comes along; something you don’t know but have to come to understand, and then you can use it as experience. It sounds like in the 60's – when you always had to show something new – but I think it still is the only way to say something, to surprise the viewer or yourself, to get closer or deeper. If it is exactly the same, it is quite pointless. 


Still Life with Big Brushstroke and Stone. 2011

Is originality an issue for you?

I cannot ignore it, it comes back again. One has to be original or fresh, otherwise I can’t understand – am I doing the right thing or not? Otherwise, it just disappears into a former experience of mine. To put the spotlight on something, it should be really unique.

And my still lifes – these are combinations of different objects. These combinations are very materialistic, which fits very well into the context of our capitalistic world of today. Intelligent people usually don’t like things. They try to live without things and say: “We already have enough things. We can live with fewer things.” But if I’m a painter, I create objects. In that way, I am criminal, I’m doing the wrong thing. But I’m not using real things in these pictures – these are things before things. They are not abstract because they exist in the picture, and viewers can name what they are. But they cannot say that they have it at home or in the shop. These are common things from somewhere else.

Somehow, they are both abstract and not abstract at the same time. There is a three-dimensional illusion and everything is quite real. But this method gives one freedom to be more independent and more focused on something else – not so much on the materialistic part. They are different, sort of alternative still lifes, with which you can avoid reality and go into some new reality. It is closer to surrealism, but not totally. I hope they also give some illusion of freedom to the viewer, that the viewer sees something new, and that there is always the possibility that if you don’t like something, maybe you have to go get something better. But, perhaps you can create your own? If you think about it as a closed room with only one door through which to enter and exit, and then they see: There is another door! or even, you can make a door yourself, the wall is not so solid after all… That you can find an alternative way.


Holocaust. 2001

With this concept, are you thinking about new possibilities in art? Are you questioning different understandings of art as a field without borders? Or are you more interested in the context of reality? Your previous work contained some elements of sots-art, and an ironic attitude to reality.

I hope this ironical point of view will be present also in my new exhibition. I try to figure out – what is most important?  What is going on when I’m living my life? What is the difference between art and real life? The problem that drives me is the conflict between dreams (it can be anything on our mind – the concept of art or just dreams of how our life, or the world, should be) and reality. On the one hand, we are just dreaming and fantasising, and on the other, there is real life, where we try to turn these concepts and dreams into everyday reality. And they never match one hundred percent. So there is some conflict. When we take some art concept and turn it into reality, we cannot see all the details and practical stuff.

With this kind of a background, I think that painting is very educational, for myself as well. Because it is a very practical thing. I have to do it one hundred percent. I can’t order  someone else to do it, and then just generally say – yes, this is more or less what I wanted. Painting is something that I have in my head. And there is also my social life and whatever else. It falls in with painting, and I start to do it. Then the distance between my dream and reality is around 20 cm. And I see very clearly what happens – I see my weak hands, the brush, and the activity of doing it. Of course, I'd have to be either an idiot or have a very good sense of humour to really believe that these two things are the same. Then you start to like these mistakes. We don’t have the ability to see the big picture and all of the details at the same time; we can do either one or the other. But we jump around and try to do it anyway, so there is endless conflict and dissatisfaction in our trying and trying, but something is always still missing. 

You don’t trust pure conceptualism? In the sense that you believe that things must be done physically?

Maybe this is the most educational part – that they must be done. Someone has a concept, an idea, a position, and then s/he decides to do something. And the result is some silly handwork. There is something there from Sisyphus, where you have to roll the stone again and again, and you never reach the top of the hill. This trying and this failure... This is an endless tragedy.

This is the basis of the exhibition. The second layer is the context of still lifes and paintings. What is the connection between painting and thoughts, if they are such different languages? It is hard to find the right form for your doubts. 

What you are saying, in a strange way, reminds me of what I’ve read about Gerhard Richter’s images – that it is exactly their value of being done that gives them – at least tries to give them (this rather utopian belief) – the sense of reality, which has become lost in the world of contemporary images, where there is a continuous projections of images, but they have lost their link to reality. Is there some connection with your work here?

Richter is pessimistic, or ironic, with his photo-realistic images... The biggest hope was in Chuck Close's work, in his huge portraits. He was a really good example of optimism, this naive hope that he is doing something great. Now, it is heading more and more in this direction, like what Luc Tuymans, etc. are doing.

How do you see your works in the tradition of the “new realism”, if I may use this label?

For a long time now, I've really hated the use of photographs in painting. It is so overused in many ways. When I observe it in today's art, in most cases, it is just the surface. There are two main directions of these approaches. Quite a few are still using photos (I wouldn’t like to say – in a “conceptual” way, because all normal art is “conceptual” in some way; it is based on a conception or on some idea), but they don’t believe in this image anymore, they just use it in the poorest way. The image or object is very simple, nothing special – some sort of documentation, but without any hope or opposition. The other direction is when artists create their own, even weird, fantasy worlds. My position is closer to this one.

My still lifes are also realistic pictures, and you have to think that they really exist somewhere, they're not just painted on canvas. In them, there is just one step between recognizable reality and an understanding that there is something else around us. And this also serves to keep a balance between irony and an idealistic attitude. I think that an idealistic attitude is greatly missing. We need something positive, even if it sounds naive.

But everyone has to create his/her own idealistic attitude, otherwise it would be like in Soviet times, when there was one system and we had to believe in it. I don’t like any systems – they are dangerous. But everyone has to be brave and clever enough to create their own idealistic systems and believe in them. Then we would have these millions and millions of different systems, where everyone could say: This is my dream, what I really believe in. It can be dangerous for you, but this is mine. If you like, you can use it, but this is mine, this ONE. I think that the main goal is to reach this point, where the ideal and real worlds match.


Attention Matches. 2006

You mention that for you, both ironical distance and an idealistic attitude are important. But in your previous works, irony dominated...

It is my weakness. It is quite hard to balance it. Irony or humour is the only way how you can get the second look. It is not enough to understand things if you have this mono, single position. You have to see dimensions, as well as other positions. At first, you have to take the serious route, and only then can you take a more critical position, or ironic point of view (Hm, maybe this is not so serious at all!). If they both exist, it is a binocular view. But of course, it contains some contradictions; it is hard to be serious and non-serious at the same time. But it is possible, I think.

Could you reflect about your works from a longer time perspective, beginning with the 90's, when you started to exhibit? For instance, in Latvia during the 90's, the essential questions for artists were – what is art? what are its relations with reality?, etc. In the last decade, it has focused more on reality, as such. How was it for you?

It was quite an awful time – the end of the 80's and the 90's. I was just trying to survive. I was so occupied with myself, trying to understand how to live a normal existence as an artist, what do I have to do as an artist, what is good art and bad art... I took it in the most self-concentrated way.

Around that time, your works constantly featured a geometrical figurine – the ball-head – what did it signify?

Its meaning only came later… But at the time, I understood these issues quite simply – if I am an artist – a painter, I have to think of what to put in the picture. I need some sort of form. But – is it something abstract? Or is it representing something? I tried to choose some form where the context was minimal, or it fit in with my feelings; that I could say: Yes, it belongs to me. That figurine was the most neutral one – I created it and it belonged only to me; I felt independent enough to be able to hear what I was saying. Everything else was overloaded with previous meanings, like huge apartment blocks filled with things… I built a small, private house, something small enough that I could handle it. And on a very basic level, I felt that I liked to do this. This level of doing is very important, because painting is very physical. I felt that it was something for me – I really like it, I can believe in it. If you enjoy it, then the energy moves in both directions. 


Untitled CXXVI. 1999

And all of the stories in these pictures are very formal. I took them from the life going on around us; they are just a narrative to hand to the viewer, because many people think that the narrative is the most important thing – that the work has to talk about something, that there has to be a story. They spend some time looking at the work and at the same time, they feel how it is done, and then they can forget the story. The important thing is the position, or the way in which they were made.

Is the story important for you?

It is nice to work out some narratives. But they are very basic ones, we all know these narratives. It is hard to say aloud something new.

You like to play with banal narratives, or stories, that everyone knows.

I don't try to find the most typical ones. They are familiar stories, but they have nuances that make it a pleasure to keep creating them.

So, in your art, you are more concerned about thinking about art itself, and not reality? Are you trying to include any social positions in it?

Not directly. I think that, as a social person, I’m already doing some kind of social art. I know that there is social art which is much more connected with real social problems, but this is a different angle. I’m quite social already, even if I do try to stand a bit more in the background. I try to do everything in the most correct way, in the sense that I really believe in what I’m doing. This is also a very social behavior. I don’t believe in a difference between art and life. It is strange nowadays – no one wants to know anything about contemporary art, and it becomes some kind of ghetto. But inside myself, I don’t feel any difference. What is the difference between someone driving a tram and someone making a video? Making and doing real things in everyday life? This is the congruence between your dreams, your ideas and your everyday activities. Driving a tram is also a very conceptual act, I think. You just have to feel it – if you are doing it you have to do it in a most focused way. It has to be done by me.

Is that why you paint instead of make videos?

Yes. But that is just my cage. If I had to do something else, I would still do it with mindfulness, the same as in art. And I would have to analyze it, the same as in art. If someone asks – what are you doing and why?, you have to be able to answer, because it is not happening randomly. It is your own choice. And art is something that looks so useless that it needs even more of an explanation as to why do you do it. You can do whatever, but why are you doing these things?

I think that everything is art, it just depends on how it is done. You have to keep this philosophical dimension to everything in the background. Because it is your life. So that at the end of your life, when you make a list of everything you have done, you can answer when somebody asks: Why did you do this? Until then, you can just say: Oh, it just happened, that’s fucking life. I had to do it and had to earn money somehow. Maybe tomorrow there will be something special, but today, I have to do these things. What philosophy? Fuck philosophy. This is life. Of course my life is very sad, and so on, and I don’t know why. But you have to choose these things, and wherever you are standing, there's not such a big difference. I’m doing paintings, but sometimes I‘m doing something else – videos or performances, or driving the car, meeting friends. Everything can be quite philosophical and can give reason to think: Why me, and now, right here?


Kaido and Marko. 2002

You have collaborated quite a lot with Marko Mäetamm, with whom you did the John Smith project, and with other artists as well. Is the collaborative aspect important to you?

With Marko it was very simple – we are friends. It was just a pleasure to do something together, and we easily created some ideas. That was also the strength and weakness of this project.

How was your collaboration in this project organized? Artists usually are quite individualistic and independent personalities. When collaborating, you have to step behind individual ambitions.

It was just a friendship, which is almost like love. If there are these positive emotions between people, you don’t start to think about your own ego and how to divide the work, just – hey, let’s do it!



World of Gods II. 2002

The John Smith project had a very clear beginning and a very clear end. At the beginning, there were paintings done together; later, the story of this person grew more layers – there was this living person with his own biography, his diaries, etc. Did it develop step by step by itself, or did you create the concept and then move on, following this concept?

It was quite a childish thing altogether. Therefore, it’s good that it had a clear beginning and an end. It started out as a joy, and then it became very serious. We started it without any big plans. We had our studios together and we often met, created some ideas, just having some fun conversations, and so on. Then we realized – oh, so many good ideas, maybe we can do something together about this? We did the first paintings together, and in one year we had already won the competition for the Venice Biennale. But we were not prepared at all. Of course, we prepared the project for Venice, but it was still sort of just for fun. Now I understand that it happened too fast. We didn’t even have enough time to understand what was going on. Then there was this project – two guys and John Smith, we were already some sort of group. – “Oh, boys – when is the next John Smith coming out!?” – Then there was a need for a long-term concept, a plan for how to continue with it. We either had to take it seriously or it would becomes pointless. Maybe that was when we realized that we were not interested in it anymore.

How do you see the John Smith project in context of your other, independent works? How does it overlap or differ from them?

Both Marko and the curator, Anders Härm, noticed the same thing – that it was something made without full personal responsibility. John Smith was something that was between me and Marko. You can do it, but without thinking that “it is not mine”. You use whatever you like in a random way and it creates something in-between.

But then there was another project, which is still going on – a consciously-made collaboration – with the artist Urmas Muru. These were video works, which we showed in the cinema Sõprus and at the Kumu art museum; there was also a catalogue, Gorilla says: fuck!, published four years ago. It was a very different kind of collaboration. 

I participated because the way that Urmas ran the project was totally different than the way that I would have done it. At the beginning, it was even hard to be together, because he did everything he could to make the situation unpleasant. It was like a challenge. If you want to make something new and you are not able to get what you need from yourself, then you have to take it as a different combination, from the outside. The first combination would be to find something similar, where the situation is more convenient and comfortable. When this combination has  already been used (like for me and Marko), then you need to find something completely  opposite. The people who participated in this project were always changing, only Marcus and I stayed the whole time. His philosophy, at some point, is that we should create conflicts because only in such situations can people add a special energy. When there is conflict, something starts to happen, so he specially created these kinds of situations. For instance, the participants had deciding on something, and then, in the most clever way, he says: “No, we are not going to do it this way.” And of course, then everyone feels pressure, the critical attitude… In my collaboration with Marko, we really liked what we were doing; with Urmas, it is totally different – only when I really really don’t like it anymore, do I say, “Stop, I’m out of the game.” But there is a very close distinction between “I like to do it” and “I don’t like it at all”, and in this way, I find out more information about myself. I’m also creating something. But it is also a rather free situation – without responsibility, but under pressure. Together with other people, I am part of a game. There is some sort of danger, but also freedom. It is interesting. And the result is quite strange.

You had exhibitions together with Jonas Gasiūnas, and Tõnis Saadoja. In such cases, do you try to somehow synchronize your works?

We are quite similar with Saadoja, there was not much need to synchronize. With Jonas, we are close friends, but we're more different from one another. But I like to perform together – then you can learn new things about yourself. I’m quite egoistic and try to make things perfect. But it is good to collaborate, to check it out, to destroy the system.

It is quite challenging – artists usually create their own world, they are somehow too egoistic to be willing to share their space.

But many artists don’t have a sense of humour as well, just this mono-, not a stereo-, view. I know so many good artists who have no sense of humour… They are so serious, at least in the field of their own art, that it is quite surprising.

Is a sense of humour an important part of collaborative work?

Yes, you have to be able to laugh about your own “serious” work. This is an attitude. I try to live my life in the most perfect way that I can to satisfy myself, but there are also other people around. And even if I don’t respect them, they would still be there. I create my own world and respect others’ worlds. But we still live together, and take some energy from this same source, which might seem wrong somehow. 


Untitled. 1997

I quite often argue with one of my my relatives who, from my point of view, lives in the most wrong way. But now, I'm beginning to think more and more that this could be looked at as an art project (of course, he does not look at it as an art project). He is just living his life, but its effect is like that of a good art project, because he makes me think about this way of living. And this should be the effect of each art work – I see something and it impresses me, stays in my mind, keeps me thinking. But most art works are not like that, they are crap and boring, with no energy and no position. But some ways of living are real art projects. My naïve philosophy is that maybe in the future – and this comes from Andy Warhol's position that everyone can be an artist – an artist is anyone who is called as such. Even if he/she doesn’t like it. It's the same with this relative – “I shall call you an artist!” (He hates art.) Because what you are doing has the effect of art, and now you are labeled as an artist. But you and you and you, who are doing these wonderful paintings, you are not artists. You are off of the list and now we put this person on the list.”

Several of your art works and projects, even their titles, contain biographical references – your image or your name (‘Kaido’s Art School’, etc). This is probably your humour, or you are being ironic, but is this also a method of how to deal with issues which are important to you in art?

It is connected with honesty. These were from last year's shows, where I was trying to be very precise and I was saying things as clearly as possible, without any addition of art. When I used myself in the paintings, it was like a game. They were very personal, as I don’t know many people as well as I know myself. Even with that relative – I try to understand him, but I can’t understand him as much as I would like to. There is some strange speculation going on if I start to think about other people.

Is the role of the spectator important to you when you do your works? – how she/he will perceive your work? Is it a dialogue, or just your monologue?

It depends. First of all, I have a monologue with myself. But I’m always ready for dialogue. I don’t think I have many chances to do it differently. There can be, more or less, only one perfect solution, and I have to find it. Then it is both a monologue and a dialogue at the same time – the capability to reach other people. When you do it in an honest way, it is loaded with your energy and beliefs in what you are doing. The other people will find you – friends, and also enemies, who hate what you are doing. Somehow, it is part of my plan, that there should be someone else sitting on the other side of the table.


Kaido's Art School