Riitta Päiväläinen – Reviews
Riitta Päiväläinen
VESTIGE ICE AND WIND
in conversation with melissa de witt
I first came across Riitta Päiväläinen´s work at Paris Photo last year. Her large photograph, though one amongst many that hung on the walls of countless different (though really very similar) cubicle-like spaces representing galleries from all over the world, stood out from the rest. Like all magical things, I cannot say precisely why this particular image has stayed with me, but I keep coming back to it, never tiring of looking at what I can best describe as dancing yellow shirts in a field. Maybe it is the sense of the colour, or simply the idea of someone placing these bits of clothing in such a way, that so attracts me.
MW: What is your work about and what would you like to express through your photographs?
RP: I have worked with one theme, called "Vestige", since 1996. The main theme and the primary driving force of my work is my interest in old clothing. In my photographs I use discarded clothes from second-hand shops and flea markets. I am interested in old garments because they carry silent, unknown stories and histories. The unavoidable fact that I will never know the actual stories and personal histories connected with the clothes arouses my curiosity. The clothes remain secret, withholding their secrets. Little by little personal histories are absorbed into the collective history.
Besides the old clothing, the "key words" of my work are "unwritten history", "memory" and "landscape". In addition to sharing a "written history", which is recorded and recalled in the books, official files and archives, we are constantly surrounded by history that is not written down; not so easily recognized. I can feel its presence in various ways: as a rip in a coat; as a light footprint on the inner sole of the shoe. Working with the theme of "unwritten history" leads me often to think of a question: "Who or what is historically remarkable enough to be recorded or remembered?". I do not want to emphasize the historical significance of the importance remembering everybody and everything. As much as I need to remember, I also need to be able to forget. The idea of having "one historical truth" would not make alternative truths possible. I want, through my photography, to concentrate on what is still to be found.
I believe that art is not creating something totally new and never earlier experienced. In my opinion, to be able to understand art, it has contain something that we can recognize in ourselves and reflect upon. I like the idea that art consists partly of old ingredients/elements, which artists arrange in a new and personal order so that it becomes unique. I hope my photographs work this way. This means that there is not only one interpretation for the photograph. Interpretations can be as many as there are viewers. My aim is to suggest and bring forth potential stories, mental images and associations.
MW: Where did the idea for using clothes come from?
RP: I do not have one clear answer to this question. It may be that one of the reasons for creating, making art, is the need to find clues and hints which lead one - little by little - to a better understanding of important issues. Like most people, I have always been interested in my own roots, my personal history and the history of my family. During the time my grand-grandparents lived, documenting was not even close to the volume that we do during our lifetime. So there does not exist a lot of written evidence to prove their existence. Yet, I am the genealogical sum of my grand-grandparents.
In my childhood I often woke up listening to the sound of my mother´s sewing machine. She made almost all of the clothing for our five-person family. So from a small child I have designed the patterns and chosen the fabrics for my own clothing together with my mother. It may be that making photographs is very much connected with my early memories. Maybe the clothes I work with remind me of something I have earlier experienced. They carry something familiar to me.
Several years ago, and old black dress made of velvet caught my attention in a second-handshop. I examined the garment carefully. There was no label. The style of the dress was from the twenties. The seams revealed the dress was handmade. The owner of the shop told me that she bought it in Paris. I tried the dress and it fitted me perfectly. I became intrigued by the history of the dress. Who was the woman who had had the dress made? What was her life story?
MW: Do you consider your work to be objects/ installations themselves or the photographs?
RP: I see myself as a photographer and I consider my work to be the photographs. But my photographs are not documentary or "straight" photography. Before I set up my camera, ready to take the photograph, I have done a lot of preparation e.g. chosen the paraphernalia (old clothes from second-hand shops) and found a specific place to make an installation. Thinking of the final result, these preparations are, for me, as important and inspiring as the moment of taking the photograph.
Whereas, installations are often meant to be seen and experienced from many different angles and perspectives; when I am preparing and setting up the clothes for a photograph, I observe them only from one angle, through the lens of the camera. When I take the photograph I am able to frame the image to leave the unessential or disturbing elements out. I decide the best angle and perspective. Places have different characters depending on the light and the time of the day. In the form of photography I can make decisions and transfer the images I wish to many different places and people to be seen.
One of the main themes of my artistic work is memory and remembrance. Some of our memories are flickering and unclear like fragments. Through photography I am able to capture something very similar, a fragile moment that no longer exists other than in the form of photography. When I have finished taking a photograph of a frozen cloth I usually take it to a hot shower where the sculptural shape of it very quickly disappears. I often feel relieved. I do not wish to preserve the (materialistic) cloth. It is more about the attempt to capture, to suggest something of the personality behind the cloth.
MW: Do you feel your work falls more into the camp of portraiture or landscape photography?
RP: I do not wish to categorize my work into classified genres, but of course, elements of both are to be found in my images. Most of my photograph in the series of Wind are the result of walking with a backpack full of clothes and camera equipment. For me, landscape is not only a topographical, objective phenomenon. It is personal and subjective. For me, working with a landscape means going into it - experiencing and sensing the place. I am interested in combining two elements (cloth and place) and seeing what kind of dialogue they create together. So the landscape can be thought of as a stage. Bringing these two elements I create an interaction. In the final photograph there should be a deeper layer, a third dimension. It should evoke in the viewer something that is not to be seen: memories, feelings, beginnings of imaginary stories.
MW: Is there a Finnish style of photography?
RP: In my opinion, there is not a consistent style. I think there is a lot of variations and personal styles, which differ from each other. One reason for this might be the attitude of Finnish art institutions and universities. Mostly they encourage young students to find their own personal approach and to follow their own style and interests.
MW: Is it important to you how your photographs are hung and displayed?
RP: The final visual appearance is very important to me. By taking care of the details (framing and display) on can crystallize the idea and the theme of the show. This should never be underestimated.
MW: How has your work progressed and developed?
RP: During 2001 I became more interested in freezing clothes into specific forms and shapes (Ice series). By freezing the cloth I was able to create three-dimensional space - " an Imaginary Meeting" with its former wearer. In autumn 2000 I had a one-month residence in the west coast of England and started the series Wind. In this series the landscape plays an essential role. I find the wind interesting because of its unexpectedness, compared to the method of freezing. Last year (2003) I had a three-month residence in the northern part of Finland, called Lapland. There I started a new series called Camouflage. Also during this time architectural form made from clothes appeared in my work.
I especially respect artists who have worked with one theme for their whole artistic career. For me it is more interesting to talk about continuity rather than radical change. Changes in the work happen in the process of working. They´re intuitive and natural. The links and clues into the development of the work are still to be seen, but often many years later.
MW: What is the significance of the trees in your work? Are they merely functional - useful for giving the clothes movement?
RP: Trees are primarily functional to me, but if you look at my photographs you will often find trees and branches. I was born in a small village with 200 habitants in the middle of Finland and I spent a lot of time in my childhood playing outside. I also don´t work in an urban environment. Trees are a natural part of the landscape in which I like to work, but they do not have any deeper meaning.
MW: How important is print size to your photographs?
RP: Most of my photographs are quite large (100 cm x 125 cm). In some works the clothes are printed life-size. This is, of course, to emphasize the details, but I also think that the physical experience when viewing the photograph is essential. I have written earlier about the " imaginary meeting"; when I decide the size of a photograph I think about the encountering, the meeting between the viewer and the work (cloth). By varying the size I can influence what kind of impression I wish to achieve. Are the viewer and the object equal? With smaller sizes one can create more intimate encountering. In some works I chose a larger scale because I wanted the viewer to almost feel as if they entering the place.
MW: Although there are never any people in your photographs, the clothes seem to signify presence.
RP: Clothes refer always to a person. They are very human. They protect and shade the body. They become the shelter. Sometimes we do not remember exactly the details of the face of a person - even those with whom we are closely connected - but we easily remember the style of the clothing he or she wears. It is also interesting how much clothes tell about the person who wears them. If I was given your clothes and asked to guess what kind of person you are and how you looked, how much would my analysis resemble you? If one wears the clothes of someone who is gone, one feels like that person is closer, almost present. A piece of clothing represents, above all, its former weaver. It tells you that somebody has been present. The faded colours and tears in the fabric show the signs of time passed. When a piece of clothing lies on the floor, it does not look very interesting to me because it lacks a special form and shape. By freezing the garment or letting the wind fill it with air, I am able to create a sculptural space, which reminds me of its former user. The piece of clothing starts to look more individual and independent. It almost has a personality. This "imaginary meeting" represents, for me, the subtle distinction between absence and presence.
MW: You must be frozen yourself taking some of your images. How do you use your camera with frozen fingers?
RP: Yes, you are correct! Sometimes it is freezing cold, especially when all the necessary preparations are done and I am waiting for the right moment or lightning. It is not possible to work if it is too warm. It has to be at least ten degrees below zero so I freeze the clothes outside during the colder nights. Already, the sun in March and April starts to warm the cloth and it melts very quickly, making the work difficult. You need to act quickly to get the image. Actually it is quite silly, but I am in a terrible sweat! The preparations, like carrying the clothes and organizing them in the right positions, is physically a lot of work. And working in the deep snow does not make it any easier.
I use a large format field camera (5x4"). It is perfect camera to work with in cold conditions because it does not use any electrics of have any electrical parts. I have taken photos with it when it was minus twenty-seven degrees and it still worked. I photographed for 3-4 hours and then went directly to a hot sauna! The batteries of the light meter had to be close to my body heat and then replaced just before measuring the light. To prevent myself from joining the row of frozen clothes, I have good outdoor gear and very, very warm mittens!
MW: The figures in your images sometimes appear to be dancing or descending en masse. What is the significance of the group?
RP: The group maybe refers to our collective memory and history. I also believe that with the volume of the group, and the repetition, I can create rhythm and dynamics in the series. Showing a group also raises the question of individuality. Are the members of the group equal? What is their relationship?
MW: What is it like to be married to another artist (Ari Saarto) working with photography?
RP: It has its advantages and disadvantages. An artist has to be a bit selfish: otherwise the work won´t get done. So when there are two people in the family with their own projects going twenty-four hour per day, life can be just " a little bit" hectic. On the other hand, we are able to help and support each other, and we both understand the demands of the work e.g. why one has to travel a lot and why all the extra money goes, without hesitation, to new equipment and making the art.
Luckily, we share a lot of same interests in the field of photography. Even though our work looks visually different we both deal with the same kind of questions, like presence and absence, and this is why we have had, and will continue to have, shows together. And we were able spend last summer together in Aomori, Japan, working on our own photographic themes, but sharing and enjoying the experience. As i any good relationship, it means reciprocal advantages and concessions.
MW: Can you explain the ghostly quality of some of your images?
RP: I think that clothes, without a person wearing them, refer always to death. One can also consider the clothes to be relics. I am not trying to eliminate to question of death and mortality in my photographs. On the contrary, I believe that it creates one more interpretation of, and level to, my work.
HOTSHOE - fresh perspectives on contemporary photography # 132, October/ November 2004
"Vestige" by Andreas Vowinckel
From the beginning, Riitta Päiväläinen has referred to a specific theme in her photo works, and for this purpose she has collected old, worn clothing, shoes and other everyday utensils.
These are arranged in specific thematic groups to form installations in the open landscape which she then captures as photographs. This work is based on considerations which themselves make a direct reference to the objects she handles and employs in her pictures. For in her eyes, every object that has once been used signifies the history - "unwritten history" - which surrounds it and others everywhere and everyday, without any awareness of them and the individual "stories" bound up with them.
Riitta Päiväläinen collects and buys these things at flea markets or in second hand shops, in places with which they themselves have no connection, apart from the fact that each place may add a new "page" in the book of an object´s "history". They have been separated from their original function and users long ago, and have thus been alienated. But their appearance, their condition, the alterations which have been made to them as a result of external influences - these aspects leave traces and embody "time" as a decisive dimension in their existence, in the existence of us all. These legible material traces, as well as the immaterial period of time during which they have been inscribed into the objects, cause the manifestation of each object´s own unmistakable "individuality". They betray something about the circumstances to which the object has been subjected, about the conditions under which it fulfilled its purpose or perhaps failed its user and experienced a tragic fate as a result. As far as the interpretation of such presumptions about the "historical" path of these objects is concerned, our imagination probably knows no bounds. And yet the anonymous objects embody mysterious secrets which ensure their attraction and appeal, and Riitta Päiväläinen reacts as spontaneously to this as every other viewer does, making them - for precisely that reason - into the focal point of her work.
Clothes cover and protect a person, embody an aura, like a second skin. We can see from used items of clothing that they have been worn by a user and then cast aside, the fact that this person has made use of them, made them his/her own, that he/she took up residence in them and was thus present, just as - after use - he/she gave them up, abandoned them, and was thus absent once again. All these factors play a significant role in her early comprehensive, coloured photo series "Vestige" (1997-1999) - in the arrangement of the objects in specific groups, in the construction of the installation and finally in its reproduction as individual photographic illustrations.
In her new works, "Recollection I-IV" and "Winter Sleep I/II", both from 2001, Riitta Päiväläinen intensifies her handling of old clothes in photography to create sculptural symbols of expression. Embedded in winter landscapes and covered in snow, these items of clothing are frozen into alien forms, encountered by the viewer as pod-like, emptied black bodies. Their structure, expressive power and vivid plastic presence before the natural background means that they do not only take on an autonomous, psychological, historical and metaphysical significance, but also become metaphorically defined photographic sculptures. Although installed in the landscape, these photo sculptures have nothing in common with any form of staged photography. Utterly lacking in narrative aspects, the pictured items of clothing - in themselves, but also on the level of photography - embody autonomous aspects of meaning, like those already artistically formulated in the work group "Vestige", together with their existential and philosophical references, as fundamental questions concerning our understanding of time and history.
Riitta Päiväläinen covers new ground with her photo projects, whether these be in black and white or in colour. The starting point for her work is personal impressions and her own experiences with the refuse products of a society that carelessly throws them away - something that happens all over the world. These may therefore be found as refuse, not only on organised tips, but indiscriminately, in inconspicuous places in the countryside, by the roadside, in woods, on field paths... She herself is familiar with the wide-ranging, isolated landscapes of Finland, and so she sees these things - the lost objects, but particularly the abandoned, worn-out clothing and shoes - as gaining a different, multi-layered, metaphorical meaning. By taking a photograph, an authentic documentation of what she has found, she transfers the three-dimensional, sculptural manifestation of the items of clothing - on an almost life-sized scale - onto the surface of what is portrayed as abstract graphic signs and symbols. In an emblematic way, these - with the ruinous condition of the objects in the photographically concrete, monumental picture - embody aspects of a social reality of decay, of the alienation of mankind from himself and from nature; a reflection of man's loss of identity.
In Riitta Päiväläinen's works the photographic medium is not put into the service of a discourse concerned with questions formulated and presented for discussion outside the reality of what is depicted. Instead, she guides our attention away from the external manifestations portrayed in the pictorial context towards their elementary, inner characteristics, so tracking down her own identity and searching for the essence of whatever this may contain and signify.
Riitta Päiväläinen hat sich in ihren Fotoarbeiten von Beginn an auf ein bestimmtes Thema bezogen. Sie sammelt alte getragene Kleider, Schuhe und andere Gebrauchsgegenstände des täglichen Bedarfs.
Diese arrangiert sie in spezifischen thematischen Gruppen zu Installationen in offenen Landschaftsräumen, die sie dann in ihrem Bestand fotografisch festhält. Dahinter stehen Überlegungen, die auf diese Gegenstände, mit denen sie arbeitet und umgeht, selbst direkt Bezug nehmen. Für sie repräsentieren alle einmal gebrauchten Dinge - Geschichte - , "ungeschriebene Geschichte", die sie aber überall und täglich umgibt, ohne sie zu kennen und zu wissen, welche einzelnen "Geschichten" sich mit ihnen verbinden.
Riitta Päiväläinen sammelt und kauft diese Dinge auf Flohmärkten oder in Secondhand Shops, an Orten, die mit ihnen selbst direkt gar nichts mehr zu tun haben, außer, dass sie ihnen eine weitere "Seite" im Buch ihrer "Geschichte" hinzufügen. Hier sind sie längst von ihrer ursprünglichen Funktion und ihren Benutzern entbunden und damit auch entfremdet. Ihr Aussehen aber, ihr Zustand, die Veränderungen die sich an ihnen durch äußere Einflüsse vollzogen haben, hinterlassen Spuren und verkörpern "Zeit" als eine ganz entscheidende Dimension in ihrer, in unser aller Existenz. Diese ablesbaren materiellen Spuren, wie auch der immateriellen Zeitspanne, in denen sie sich in die Dinge eingeschrieben haben, lassen an jedem einzelnen Objekt ihre ganz unverwechselbare "Individualität" aufscheinen. Sie verraten etwas über die Umstände, denen sie ausgesetzt waren, über die Bedingungen, unter denen sie ihre Aufgabe erfüllt oder gegenüber ihrem Benutzer versagt und darum mitunter ein dramatisches Schicksal erlitten haben. Was die Interpretationen solcher Vermutungen über den "historischen" Gang dieser Objekte betrifft, so sind hier der Phantasie wohl keine Grenzen gesetzt. Und doch verkörpern die anonymen Gegenstände rätselhafte Geheimnisse, die ihnen den Reiz und ihre Anziehungskraft sichern, auf die Riitta Päiväläinen genauso spontan reagiert, wie jeder andere Betrachter auch, um sie gerade darum in den Mittelpunkt ihrer Arbeit zu rücken.
Kleider umhüllen und schützen einen Menschen, verkörpern eine Aura, wie eine zweite Haut. An gebrauchten Kleidungsstücken wird der Umstand sichtbar, dass sie von einem Benutzer einmal getragen und dann wieder abgelegt wurden, dieser also sich ihrer bedient und sich zu eigen gemacht hat, er sie bewohnt und damit anwesend war, wie er sie nach ihrem Gebrauch aufgegeben, verlassen hat und damit dann wieder abwesend war. Alle diese Umstände spielen in ihrer früheren umfangreichen, farbig gefaßten Fotoserie "Vestige", 1997-1999, eine wesentliche Rolle für die gruppenspezifische Zuordnung der Gegenstände, für den Aufbau der Installationen und schließlich für ihre Wiedergabe in einzelnen fotografischen Abbildungen.
In ihren neuen Arbeiten "Recollection I-IV", sowie "Winter Sleep I/II", beide von 2001 steigert Riitta Päiväläinen ihren Umgang mit Altkleidern in der Fotografie zu skulpturalen Ausdruckszeichen. Eingebettet in Winterlandschaften und von Schnee bedeckt, treten die Kleidungsstücke zu fremdartigen Gebilden erstarrt dem Betrachter als hülsenhaft entleerte schwarze Körper entgegen. Sie nehmen in ihrer Struktur, Geste und eindringlichen plastischen Präsenz vor dem Hintergrund der Natur nicht nur eine eigenwertige psychologische, historische und metaphysische Bedeutung an, sondern repräsentieren metaphorisch definierte fotografische Skulpturen. Obwohl in Landschaftsräumen installiert, verbindet diese Fotoskulpturen nichts mit Formen einer inszenierten Fotografie. Ohne erzählerische Momente verkörpern die abgebildeten Kleidungsstücke in sich selbst, wie auch auf der Ebene der Fotografie, autonome Bedeutungsaspekte, wie sie schon in der Werkgruppe "Vestige" mit grundlegenden Fragen zum Verständnis von Zeit und Geschichte in ihren existentiellen und philosophischen Bezügen thematisiert und bildnerisch formuliert wurden.
Riitta Päiväläinen geht mit ihren in Schwarz/Weiß wie auch in Farbe ausgeführten Fotoprojekten neue Wege. Der Ausgangspunkt für ihre Arbeiten sind ihre persönlichen Eindrücke und Erfahrungen, die sie mit Abfallprodukten einer Gesellschaft gemacht hat, die diese wie überall in der Welt achtlos wegwirft. Diese finden sich darum als Müll nicht nur auf organisierten Deponien, sondern wahllos an unscheinbaren Orten in der Natur, am Straßenrand, im Wald, auf Feldwegen... Selbst engstens mit den weiträumigen, einsamen Landschaften in Finnland vertraut, gewinnen für sie diese Dinge, die verlorenen Gegenstände, besonders aber die verlassenen, ausgedienten Kleider und Schuhe eine andere, vielschichtige metaphorische Bedeutung. Mit der Fotografie einer authentischen Dokumentation dessen, was sie vorgefunden hat, transformiert sie die dreimensionale skulpturale Erscheinung der Kleidungsstücke maßstäblich nahezu in gleicher Größe auf der Fläche des Abgebildeten in abstrakte, graphisch geprägte Zeichen und Symbole. Diese verkörpern emblematisch mit der ruinösen Zuständlichkeit der Objekte, im fotografisch verdinglichten monumentalen Bildkörper Aspekte einer gesellschaftlichen Realität des Verfalls, der Entfremdung des Menschen von sich selbst und von der Natur als Spiegel des Verlustes an Identität.
Riitta Päiväläinen stellt das Medium Fotografie nicht in den Dienst eines Diskurses über Fragen, die außerhalb der Realität des Abgebildeten formuliert und zur Diskussion gestellt werden. Sie lenkt vielmehr den Blick von den äußeren Erscheinungen, wie sie sich im Bildkontext darstellt, auf ihre elementaren, inneren Merkmale auf den Spuren der eigenen Identität und der Suche nach dem Wesen dessen, was diese beinhaltet und bedeutet.
Catalogue: Riitta Päiväläinen "Series ICE and WIND", Helsinki 2003, ISBN 952-91-5986-2
PRIVATE STORIES CAPTURED IN UNDISCLOSED LANDSCAPES
by Hasse Persson
Ever since the American art critic Peter Schjeldahl wrote his glorious review in Artforum praising the young Esko Männikkö´s unglamorous portraits of Finnish country bachelors at ARS-95 in Helsinki, there has been an interest in Finnish photobased art and photography. Since then, a force of Finnish artists have entered the global art scene. All with a different story to tell - and with a personal expression to tell it by.
Riitta Päiväläinen, born in 1969 in Maaninka, Finland, belongs to a successful crop of students from the University of Art and Design in Helsinki, where she received her Masters in 2002. With her uniqueoeuvre of images which include elements of history, sculpture and, of course, photography, Riitta Päiväläinen has moved on to the international arena. Despite being but one in a long line of photo practitioners, who have used the camera to try to catch the often melancholic Finnish landscape, Riitta Päiväläinen convincingly expresses a personal dimension to her work rendering it a quality all its own in the history of photography. Riitta Päiväläinen´s photographic expressions make different references to the artistic work of Christian Boltanski´s and Annette Messager´s installations and sculptural photographs as well as to Jim Dine´s bodyless bathrobes. Päiväläinen seems to combine it all with an influence of her mentor Jorma Puranen´s sense for the special Finnish landscape, as seen in his landmark essay Imaginary Homecoming (1999).
As a curator and a museum director, I find in Riitta Päiväläinen´s production most of what I look for: the unique artist with the unique expression, the eye that catches the image - amongst the millions mastered every day - that matters the most.
Hasse Persson: Riitta, before I go into details about your work, could you tell me in your own words what your imagery is all about?
Riitta Päiväläinen: I have worked with one theme called "Vestige" since 1997. The main theme and the primary driving force of my work is my interest in old clothing. In my photographs, I use discarded clothes from second-hand shops and flea markets. I am interested in old garments because they carry silent, unknown stories and histories. The unavoidable fact that I will never know the actual stories and personal histories connected with the clothes arouses my curiosity. The clothes remain silent, withholding their secrets. Little by little, personal histories are absorbed into the collective history.
Besides the old clothing, the "key words" of my work are "unwritten history", "memory" and "landscape". In addition to sharing a "written history", which is recorded and recalled in the books, official files and archives, we are constantly surrounded by history that is not written down; that is not so easily recognised. I can feel its presence in various ways: as a rip in a coat; as a place worn thin in an armchair; as a light footprint on the inner sole of a shoe. Working with the theme of "unwritten history" often leads me to think of a question: "Who or what is historically important or remarkable enough to be recorded or remembered?"
HP: Do you see your works as installations or photographs?
RP: I see myself as a photographer and I consider my work to be the photographs. But my photographs are not documentary or "straight" photography. Before I set up my camera, ready to take the photograph, I have done a lot of preparation e.g. chosen the paraphernalia (old clothes from second-hand shops) and found a specific place to make an installation. Thinking of the final result, these preparations are, for me, as important and inspiring as the moment of taking the photograph.
Installations are often meant to be seen and experienced from many different angles and perspectives; when I am preparing to set up the clothes for a photograph, I observe them only from one angle, through the lens of the camera. When I take the photograph, I am able to frame the image, to leave unessential or disturbing elements out. I decide the best angle and perspective. Places have different characters depending on the light and the time of the day. In the form of photography, I can make decisions and transfer the images I wish to many various places and locations for different audiences to see.
One of the main themes of my artistic work is memory and remembrance. Some of our memories are flickering and unclear like fragments. Through photography, I am able to capture something very similar, a fleeting moment that no longer exists other than in the form of photography. When I have finished taking a photograph of a frozen piece of clothing I usually take it to a hot shower where the sculptural shape of it very quickly disappears. I often feel relieved. I do not find it necessary to preserve the cloth itself. It is more about the attempt to capture, to suggest something of the personality behind the garment or the dress.
HP: The American artist Jim Dine´s bathrobes come to my mind when I look at your series Vestige and, especially, at Recollections 1-4 (2001). Dine claims that his paintings of bathrobes are mainly self-portraits. Do you see your images the same way?
RP: Clothes always refer to a person. They are very human. They protect, hide and cover the body. They become shelter. Sometimes, we do not remember exactly the details of the face of a person - even those with whom we are closely connected - but we easily remember the style of clothing he or she wears. It is also interesting how much clothes tell about the person who wears them. If I was given your clothes and asked to guess what kind of person you are and how you looked, how much would my analysis resemble you? If one wears the clothes of someone who is gone, one feels like that person is closer, almost present. A piece of clothing represent, above all, its former wearer. It tells you that somebody has been present. The faded colours and tears in the fabric show the signs of time passed. When a piece of clothing lies on the floor, it does not look very interesting to me because it lacks a special form or shape. By freezing the garment or letting the wind fill it with air, I am able to create a sculptural space, which reminds me of its former user. The piece of clothing starts to look more individual and independent. It almost has a personality. This "imaginary meeting" represents, for me, the subtle distinction between absence and presence. But I never thought about these images the way Dine has done. But I guess they are self-portraits in a sense, since I have selected the clothes and formed the figures out of my own experiences and fantasies, often related to my own childhood. I would then add that my choices of landscapes are even more personal.
HP: I have noticed that in your landscapes there is no sunshine. Landscapes are mostly dominated by mist or general shadowless light. Do you agree?
RP: Since I have spent so much time in the forests, I think the light in my landscapes and also the often neutral settings without any landmarks are very close to my soul and early experiences.
HP: How about your special forms and shapes that we see in you sculptural images?
RP: I like basic, simple forms. Very often a circle, which has become so frequent that I nowadays even try to avoid them. On the other hand, there are certain things or themes that are impossible to avoid. Some things will appear time after time. Like the Finnish painter Susanne Gottberg, whose paintings I admire and whose themes are often variations of houses and bridges, has written in her catalogue: "The house has once again appeared... to my horror!" (Träskman Thomas, 1999, 12). The landscape itself often tells me where to install the clothes. I do sketches beforehand just to find out that in reality it does not work. The best images are often accidents after trying many different and unsuccessful trials. This is good for me since I have sometimes a tendency to be too decorative or too perfect. I like to be surprised by the final result.
HP: Being a photographer myself, I can understand the practical problems of taking some of your winter landscapes in a freezing cold Finnish climate. How do you manage the cold?
RP: Yes, you are correct. Sometimes it is freezing cold, especially when all the necessary preparations have been done and I am waiting for the right moment or lighting. It is not possible to work if it is too warm. It has to be at least ten degrees below zero. As early as March and April, the sun starts to warm the frozen cloth and the ice melts very quickly, making the work difficult. You need to act quickly to get the image. Actually, it is quite silly, but I am often in a terrible sweat! The preparations, like carrying the clothes and organising them in the right positions, is physically a lot of work. And working in the deep snow does not make it any easier.
I use a large format Wista field camera (4x5"). It is a perfect camera to work with in cold conditions because it does not have any electrical parts. I have taken photos with it when it was minus twenty-seven degrees and it still worked. I photographed for 3-4 hours and then went directly to a hot sauna! The batteries of the light metre had to be kept close to my body heat and then placed into the meter just before measuring the light. To prevent myself from joining the row of frozen clothes, I have good outdoor gear and very, very warm mittens!
HP: Very warm mittens remind me of childhood memories. Let us go back in time and see how it all started. Tell me how you got your first ideas for your special world of images!
RP: It was when I had to find a project for my Masters in 1997 when I realised that I had always bought and collected old things: books, cups and clothes. Often clothes that did not even fit me. They were either too big or too small. I also bought baby clothes, without planning to have a baby of my own, and men's clothes!
HP: What signals triggered you to buy a certain object?
RP: When I started to analyse myself I realised that it was the colour, the pattern or the fact that it was hand-made. Anyway, it all reminded me of my own childhood. I remember often waking up to the sound of my mother's sewing machine. She made almost all of the clothing for our five-person family. So from a small child I have chosen the fabrics and designed the models for my own clothing together with my mother. Maybe the clothes I work with remind me of something I have experienced earlier. They have a strangely familiar feel to me.
HP: So, basically you had a very happy childhood?
RP: Absolutely! I am often thinking about my mother and her sewing machine. I have very fond memories when I could follow my mother into town and look for fabrics for dresses for me to wear. I do not think that I once thought about my clothes being homemade as long as I liked them and could play in them in the forest. But when I was 13-14 years of age, I started to understand that my classmates all had brand name jeans and I still wore my mother's homemade trousers and that was not so "cool" any longer. But still to this day, my mother makes dresses for me for special occasions and now I understand that the connection and experiences I have shared with my mother have always been much more valuable than any piece of clothing one could ever buy.
HP: What did your parents do?
RP: My father was a teacher and my mother was a cook at the same school in my village of 200 inhabitants where I grew up. Even if my parents were not artists, they both were and are still "artistic" and special in their own ways. In my childhood, there was not a day without some kind of "artistic activity"!
Both of my parents were part of the amateur acting group for many years. My mother was leading a small theatre group in our village. She wrote and directed plays for both children and adults and often made all the settings and costumes for the shows which were performed in the neighbour villages and festivals. Besides acting, she was also a member of many choirs. So, there was a lot of singing and playing in our home. We also had a handloom at home. Lots of rugs, carpets, curtains and other textiles were designed and made together. My father was very interested in photography and he bought himself all the necessary equipment and learnt to develop films and made black and white prints. Our kitchen often turned out to be a dark-room and a laboratory. He also had a 8 mm movie camera with which he filmed and recorded moments of my childhood. I also liked to spend time by myself, mostly drawing inside, playing in the forests, going skiing or making snow sculptures in the wintertime.
HP: Did you know from early on that you wanted to be an artist?
RP: No, there was nothing of that sort in my mind! Even if I did a lot of "artistic things" in my childhood, it all was just part of my normal everyday life. Today I think it was good to grow up without any pressure of becoming an artist. When I was 16 I heard that there was a good school in Helsinki for art students, but it was too far away for me to think about. Somehow, I made the trip anyway years later.
HP: Who were your main teachers at the University of Arts and Design in Helsinki?
RP: I was extremely lucky. I had a wonderful group of teachers that encouraged me to be true to myself. For my Bachelor years Jorma Puranen was my main teacher and for my Master's I had Ulla Jokisalo and Timo Kelaranta.
HP: Can you name students that you could share photographic experiences with?
RP: There were so many that I could hardly single anybody out, but Elina Brotherus was one of them, Aino and Sanna Kannisto, Tiina Itkonen and Santeri Tuori to name just a few... In the beginning the teachers were most important, but over the years I think that my fellow students were equally important.
HP: One of the Finnish masters of photography said half-jokingly that the three most important factors for the worldwide success of Finnish photography were the following:
1. There has been very little money in Finland to spend on photography and thereby very little envy amongst artists.
2. There have been no influential critics telling artists what to do or not to do.
3. The postmodern movement passed over Finland without making any waves.
Does it sound like a reality that you can subscribe to?
RP: That sounds correct to me! I remember hanging photographs for a Finnish group exhibition abroad, when a foreign artist came up to me and said that he could not understand the Finnish mentality of helping one another. How could you help your enemy? I think this goes back to my years at Helsinki School of Art and Design, when students always helped each other with ideas and technical solutions. I think that - even if we Finnish artists have lots of possibilities to get grants - it was also true that there was very little money around to get jealous about and we were encouraged to look at ourselves for ideas instead of theoretical dogmas.
HP: Finnish photobased art is today among the most celebrated in the world, and has now been in the spotlight for more than ten years, spearheaded by artists such as Esko Männikkö, Eija-Liisa Ahtila, Pentti Sammallahti, Jorma Puranen to name a few. Do you think that the Finnish school is at its peak today, or do you think that this is just the beginning?
RP: It is not for me to say. I am happy to be part of the success today and I am hoping for myself that I will be able to work as a creative artist for years to come. But I am sure that museums and galleries and the art world as a whole are always looking for new arenas and countries to support. But in the end I believe it is not the nationality of the artist that matters. More important than the boundaries or borders is the unique and original quality of the art that makes the artist stand out from the others and makes his or her art successful, long-lasting and timeless.
HP: Where will you be in your career ten years from now?
RP: I cannot even think about myself five years from now. But I do admire artists that can have long careers and are true to themselves and their expression even if they never become household names.
HP: Can you give me a name of an artist that you admire for that attitude?
RP: The Polish artist Magdalena Abakanowicz was one of my first influences. Of course, I also have to mention both my mentors Ulla Jokisalo and Jorma Puranen that today have gotten the respect that they so well deserve.
HP: Coming back to the future and your work. Do you see yourself working with the same subject matter as today?
RP: I hope that I will work around the same ideas for many years to come. I think that all great artists are going around in the same circles and I do not believe that you always have to look for new ideas to please gallerists or collectors or anybody else for that matter. But, of course, I will never know for sure. One day the circle may change as an evolution of my own professional experience.
HP: Do you think there is a female eye or subject matters that are typically female?
RP: I am not a feminist and I do not want to be singled out as a female artist. But on the other hand, I would be very surprised if I cannot see if it is a man or a woman that has produced a certain image, even today with many lesbian and gay artists. Art - to me - is rather a simple process and the fundamental nature of man has not changed. We do deal with problems that are in front of us and they are constant: yesterday, today and tomorrow.
HP: I think that you have a strong point here. The Japanese artist Kusama has been working around dots for almost half a century and she is today one of the most admired artists in the world.
RP: I think Ulla Jokisalo is another good example. She is a pioneer as a female artist in Finland dealing with specific female matters. I have, because of her, never felt any boundaries that I have to break as a woman artist.
Hasse Persson, Director, Borås Museum of Modern Art, Sweden
Bibliography: Träskman Thomas, 1999, Susanne Gottberg, The Publications of Amos Andersson, No. 27, Erikoispaino Oy, Helsinki, Finland
Hotshoe: Fresh Perspectives on Contemporary Photography, article by Melissa DeWitt, # 132, World Illustrated Ltd., England
Catalogue: Riitta Päiväläinen "Imaginary Meeting, Structura, Camouflage", Helsinki, 2006, ISBN 952-92-0731-X
