If you are new or have landed on Tarantula: Authors and Art for the very first time, welcome to this text that will take you through the process of self discovery from the Lithuanian photographer and journalist Kristina Aleksynaitè. If a friend forwarded you this article, double welcome; if you like it, share it or why not subscribe?
I just flew back from a bustling London. My God, I forgot how busy it can be. I ask myself, is it because Big Ben has reopened after the reconstruction? I laugh at myself but before I know it, I am soon off into yet a new adventure, into the biggest snowstorm in Stockholm. I am happy that the children cannot go to school because of traffic problems, and that we can all just have a slow day dancing in the snow on my terrace; I lie down and watch the snowflakes fall on my face.
And I sink in.
Next morning, when the house empties, I light the fireplace and open “Tarantula: Authors And Art.” I look again at the work of this month's featured artist Andrea Chung. I read texts about her exhibitions, watch interviews, but I keep coming back to her cyanotype works.
So blue, so deep
First of all because of its aesthetics. The large-format teal blue works shimmer with the unmistakable beauty of the Caribbean reefs. The artist has used sugar in an interesting way, creating a new visual layer on top of the works, which adds to their charm.
I am trying in every way to explore how they were created. A few years ago, I also had the opportunity to learn about the process of cyanotype. We were making cards for Christmas in one of the photography workshops while my children were running in circles. It was a fun and cozy afternoon.
We put plants on a special light-sensitive paper, made a beautiful composition and put them under a special lamp. After a while, the sheet turns blue and the areas covered by the plants remain white. I wonder, if Andrea’s works were made from photographs or paintings.
If you didn't know the context of Andrea Chung's works, they could be beautiful pieces to soothe the eye, to rest or just to enjoy the color blue. But the artist invites you to dive deeper.
Sugar
The sugar that Andrea Chung uses in her works acts as a bleaching agent in the cyanotype process in the same way that climate warming or destructive human actions affect the ocean and reefs. And most importantly, it evokes the slave trade and colonialism in the Caribbean, a history that has informed much of her work.
All of Andrea Chung’s work comes from her personal family history. Her grandmother died after the amputation of her second leg, who had gangrene because she had diabetes. I read an interview where she talks about it and I felt my stomach churn. My grandmother also passed away years ago because of diabetes. In my family, we avoid talking about sugar, but we are well aware of the signs of impending disaster. Still we use it so much.
Like the starving and dying reefs, we know exactly what causes it. Just as we are well aware of why in Stockholm the first snow fell at the end of November or why at Christmas in my home country of Lithuania the grass is still green.
Nothing that wants you
The artist speaks about difficult topics through aesthetics. First, her works touch the eye lightly, gently intriguing you, luring you and finally they put you in a certain state where you want to know more about the work, about the author, about the history of the author, about the history of the region.
And I get surprised when I notice the titles of the exhibitions she has done, which she borrowed from the poem of the African American poet and author Nayyirah Waheed. Her first solo exhibition was named "You broke the ocean in half to be here" (Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego) and the second exhibition (Klowden Mann Gallery,) answers with the second half of the phrase, "... Only to meet nothing that wants you."
Suddenly, a realization about this year hits me. It’s been one year since I moved to Stockholm from Vilnius. I started thinking about all those years I was trying to fit, first back home, then in my new country of residence. To be everywhere and to visit everything. To find meaning. Finally, I understand. Everything is changing. The world changes, people around me change, artists and ideas change and can be different.
Like Andrea Chung's cyanotype creations, they too will change with time because they were submerged in sugar and crystallized. One day these pieces of sugar will fall and the paper of the art pieces will desintigrate… like we all will.
poem, from Salt
– Nayyirah Waheed
you broke the ocean in
half to be here
only to find nothing that wants you
Now, it's time for the end of year review.
I've travelled a crazy amount this year. I've been to endless museums and galleries. I had amazing discussions with many artists. I've been writing, taking photographs, taking care of my family and my home, and throwing a lot of great parties. I tried to fit in new environment, thus, I have eaten enough Swedish kannelbullar, my favorite white chocolate with almonds. I have had too much sugar and more sugar to get me through.
As the year comes to an end, I feel that it's time to stop looking at the world outside of me and delve into my own inner world. It's time to travel to the countries of my own heart and to discover my own creations and stories that are waiting to be noticed.
So, for now, I say goodbye to you as I plunge into silence.