The Art of Painting – An Allegory of the Cave
Dr. Harry Lehmann
It is often a small detail that makes a work of art accessible to the beholder. This was likewise my experience of Edite Grinberga’s work, as in one painting I noticed the grand piano portrayed was missing its corresponding piano stool. It didn’t appear as if the instrument had ever been used for playing. Following this first intuition that the depicted objects were somehow separated from their normal context of use, a plethora of such missing details could then be found: handles missing from the windows and doors; violins and cellos painted without their corresponding bows; a chair tilted to the side; a punching bag, not hanging from the ceiling, rather lying on the floor together with a rolled up piece of rope; an armchair veiled by a white cloth; a cinema seat sitting individually in a room removed from a row of seats. Hence the objects in the paintings referencing culture, in the broadest sense of the term, are stylized as dysfunctional objects. They appear in a strange way to have lost their meaning and purpose. They look beautiful, lost and useless in the rooms and radiate an aura of melancholia – a kind of sadness, where one has the impression these objects represent something that has irrecoverably drawn to a close. This impression of fleetingness is reinforced through the extremely fine paint application. The white canvas shimmers partially through the half-transparent surface, increasing the ephemeral effect of the paintings.
What stands out next is the selection of subjects represented. There are books and musical instruments; maps, reproductions of paintings, old leather suitcases, passports, a punching bag, ballet shoes, ice skates and a discarded cinema chair. What do a violoncello, a punching bag and a passport have to do with one another? And above all else: Why do all of these objects throw sharp-edged shadows throughout the room? If one asks such questions and would like to try to understand the internal logic of the paintings, then it is also essential to analyze the concept underlying the work.
Above all else, for Edite Grinberga, the elaborate preparations that take place preceding the actual act of painting belong to the artistic concept and are compulsory for the entire work series. It starts with a selection of an interior space where there are strong shadows cast due to the corresponding sun exposure on the walls and floor. The shadows, thrown by the windows and windowpanes as well as the subjects standing in the incidental light, are the most conspicuous characteristic of these paintings; they are, however, only striking because the rooms were customized especially for this purpose. For example, a light-colored paper is placed on the floor and artificial walls are arranged in the interior rooms. The incidental light is partially captured and deflected with mirrors, with the result that complex shadows also emerge, almost impossible to decipher. In the third step, these arranged light interiors are photographed at different time intervals. Lastly, the most aesthetically striking image fragments are selected from this photo collection and cropped on the computer, which are then assembled together in an artificial visual space. Only then, is the printout of this digitally processed image used as a template for the paintings.
Musical instruments, books, furniture and commonplace objects were also popular subjects in traditional still-life painting. Usually they represented the lifestyle, social status and the value system of a particular social class or stratum. By contrast, the objects in Edite Grinberga’s paintings are evidence of a world that is disappearing. Most of the items depicted are ‘objects of edification’; where with them, and through constant practice, the subject is helped, in an attempt to improve oneself, to form diligence and discipline. With these ‘objects of edification’, a humanistic ideal of perfection is manifested. They are symbols of a bourgeois world, where one still reads the canon of the classics, learns a musical instrument, and with dance, young girls rehearse the correct body posture for later life. Even the old luggage made from leather and the passports pictured still cling to the promise that one can go beyond one’s own borders within foreign surroundings.
Many of such ‘objects of edification’ can still be found today within many city districts, but they have lost their meaning and purpose in the overall culture. As in Edite Grinberga’s paintings, they no longer have a function: those who learn an instrument either aim at an extremely sophisticated artistic career or consider music as a hobby; those who take a vacation, no longer need a passport to go across the borders within Europe, remaining only tourists on trips that could have likewise been used for self-edification; reading choices are determined less by the canon, as by the bestseller list. These activities are often the same as they were a hundred years ago, however they do not follow the same existential ideal of edification: the subject no longer develops according to a culturally accepted idea, but rather searches for personal benefit or that which earns advancement on a career path. It seems that the paintings try to capture this vascillating transition, where an object, such as a grand piano, can still exist physically, but its cultural significance has been lost. These humanistic objects of edification only exist as shadows of their former selves. In this respect, Edite Grinberga’s paintings, which play heavily with shadow, could also be read as a modern allegory of the cave.
It is certainly not the purpose of art to bemoan such historical developments, but it does remain its purpose to show the world how it truly is. It is in this, where Edite Grinberga’s paintings find their aesthetic substance, which manifests itself within the many different objects and their constellation with one another. The series of paintings emerging in the last few years has been multifaceted and include a wide range of subjects. However, these subjects do not necessarily fit into this interpretation. Nevertheless, it is the paintings with these distinctive ‘objects of edification’ that remain the heart of the work. Their presence radiates to the other objects within the space, which at first glance seem to have nothing to do with one another, such as a sweater on a hanger or curtains moving in the breeze. Here, it is also particularly enlightening to make a comparison to the work of the Danish painter Vilhelm Hammershøi (1864 – 1916), who is an important point of reference for Grinberga. Many similarities between the two can be ascertained both thematically and aesthetically: Hammershøi’s work also utilizes bourgeois living spaces, in which the outside light streams through the windows, leading to strong light and shadow contrasts within the interiors. These compositions are also seized with a melancholic emptiness and quiet. However, there is a key difference: in the paintings of Edite Grinberga, human beings, which are still present in the older paragons, have been removed. Although in both works the same experience of loss is articulated, it now becomes more emphasized in Grinberga’s work.
Edite Grinberga’s paintings, with this strong chiaroscuro effect, throw a melancholic glance back at history. Nevertheless, artworks can sometimes have a lot of staying power, accumulating different layers of meaning in different time periods, especially when cultural change is as dramatic as it is today. Just as the industrial revolution transformed society in the 18th and 19th century and if nothing else, brought forward a bourgeoisie with their ideals of edification, so it is today shattered by the digital revolution, which now streamlines intellectual work on top of the last century’s systemization of physical labor. Traditional cultural media, like the book, the musical instrument and the painting are also seized by this revolution; access to them is now democratized, in which they also have been economically devalued, no longer functioning as bourgeois status symbols. The question will be raised of what role books, paintings and musical pieces will play in a culture shaped by the digital revolution. In this way, Edite Grinberga’s paintings act as visual memories of a future that has only now just begun.