A sculptural view of the design. Review of Jānis Straupe’s exhibition “Non-things”

Straupe has been in the creative circle since the mid-eighties. Successfully operating in the field of functional design, he has taken countless side steps in the field of “pure” art, creating unusual, seemingly impractical and paradoxical objects that, according to the new terminology, can be placed in the basket of critical design. The most recognizable of them could be the legendary “Sharp chair”, included in the collection of the Museum of Decorative Arts and Design, as well as environmental objects – installations in the sea “Mesozoi” (part of the exhibition of the same name in 2008) and “Hinderburg carrot” at the art festival “RojaL” ” in 2015. Also, Jānis Straupe has received great international recognition by creating an outstanding and unique furniture design example – the solid wood cabinet “Vaboli” (its model can also be seen in the timeline of the information accompanying the exhibition). It is a baroquely gorgeous and surreal piece of furniture worthy of a movie interior – a sculpture.

The designer has a long and productive relationship with the Museum of Decorative Arts and Design – four of his personal exhibitions have been held there since the beginning of the nineties, as well as participation in various important international art projects. In this, already Straupe’s fifth solo exhibition, in “Non-things”, he continues his characteristic line – with critical design techniques, he creates visual paradoxes and form freaks. However, in my opinion, in terms of context and form self-sufficiency, this time they have outgrown the convenient cover of the industry and demand to be considered also in the overview of time and philosophical ideas.

Although Jāņas Straupe’s activity should be classified as a design, he does not only design his works, but physically creates them himself. He once graduated from the Architecture Department of the Riga Applied Art High School (now the Riga Design and Art High School) and further studied under the old master of this field, Jānis Poliaks. He currently runs his own luxury design and carpentry company.

Straupe has achieved absolute technical mastery and seems to understand wood down to its last fiber.

This handiwork aspect is important to view the exhibition not only from the standpoint of design, but also through the prism of fine art. Also, the artist emphasizes that some of the objects in the exhibition were inspired by real world events. This is also why I want to see them more broadly than the design framework. The language of their form creates visual and symbolic references to their message, which is concisely and without unnecessary textual explanations included in the title of the work, confirming it with the year of creation. Therefore, in the review of this exhibition, I would like to use my professional knowledge and practical experience in sculpture in order to look at “Non-things” from a sculptural point of view this time, using appropriate terms and form analysis.

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As is customary here, the exhibition hall is covered by a convertible chair with a spotlight spots off-white solid wood and plywood surfaces reflect brightly. Although transparent, the room is filled with three-dimensional objects, each twisting, skewing and swirling in its own form. Assuming that each of these initiated, illusory movements needs a place to complete it, at times it seems that there is still a little too little room here. Such a feeling is also promoted by the complex architecture of the space – the unique interior of the exhibition hall, the uneven stone walls of the 13th century, which are hidden under a layer of thick, white plaster, but exposed in places, forming dark squares. As already experienced here, this saturated background is sometimes on the same page as the exhibition, and other times it competes with it. This time it’s a game of angles.

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Exhibitions non-things are quite large. They scale and compete with each other for dominance. The exhibition has many different, interesting viewpoints, where you can see others through one. Each object or group of objects is ambitious and self-sufficient. “Twisted Table”, “Eye”, “Scorpion”, “Tension”, “Birds”, “Balance (Ballerina)”, “Self-Isolation Chair”, not to mention the ambitious “Pendulum” – each draws attention to its own shapes and hidden after ideas. But they also share many characteristics that characterize the artist’s uniform handwriting. For example, I won’t hide that while walking past several sculptures, I really wanted to stroke them (the fruit-like “Birds”) – these bent wooden surfaces seem so tempting and organic. They are, as they say in the old days, gracefully carved and gently polished, matte and warm.

Knowing this about the properties of wood as a material, I can only admire the filigree craftsmanship of the author, creating such technically complex works, while at the same time not making this skill an end in itself.

The shapes are defined, laconic and clean in terms of details. Perhaps the aesthetic experience of the designer is at work here. In this sense, the ancient and untouched room arrangement is beneficial. The nearby wooden columns, which have been supporting the mezzanines of former warehouses here since the 17th century, are a visual counterpoint. Dark, rough and sonorously dry, this timber is tied to metal hoops. The nearby sculptures, created with modern craftsmanship and capabilities, therefore look even more sophisticated and elegant.

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It is interesting to see “Non-things” in the wider Latvian wood sculpture scene. Although we have a strong tradition of wood crafting, this material is currently not relevant among sculptors. Only a few contemporary artists (Kristaps Andersons, Kārlis Íle, Ieva Saulīte) have created individual works in wood, but the attention to it has been episodic. From time to time there is a wood sculpture symposium, but mostly they create environmental objects paid for by local governments for the improvement of certain areas. At best, it’s something to do with the history of the place, but at worst, it’s just another scumbag. Nowadays, the most impressive thing seen in the tree could be the almost decade-old sculptures of Andras Egliš. Although it was noticeable that the author is only a beginner in working with this material, their expression and ability to use the best qualities of wood was sculpturally stunning. At that time, I was reminded of, in my opinion, the most talented wooden sculptor in the history of Latvian art, Kārli Stārast, whose works I had once seen in the dark hangars of the Latvian Artists’ Union on Gaujas Street.

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Looking at the most characteristic examples of Latvian wood sculpture from the past and present, there are clearly visible, unifying features in the form – it is a pronounced surface texture, the search for realistic forms, expression, yielding to the peculiarities of the available raw material and a visually rather literary direct embodiment of thought. In this sense, Jānis Straupe’s works are clearly different both in terms of their formal execution and their ideas.

There is no coincidence in these sculptures. In order to implement the creative design, careful mathematical calculations and drawings have been carried out.

This time it is not a rough hewing from last year’s fallen ash block, but a fine technology of cutting, gluing, sanding. Despite this, the naturalness of the material has been preserved.

The artist mentions in interviews that the impetus for creating his works is often the world-wide collisions taking place around him. The time of creation mentioned in the laconic annotations of the objects (only the name and year number) corresponds to this. Together with the title, it says a lot more than a long explanatory text. Some sculptures are thematically politically charged. Such, for example, is the medieval confessional-like “Self-Isolation Chair” (2019), which ironically mocks the isolation of the modern age.

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Or “Tension” (2022), which was created under the influence of the Russian war in Ukraine. A strong, recognizable symbol – a circle. It is monumental and tense, but in a paradoxical way the form is broken. This void is pulled by a spring wrapped around the circle. Double the tension and excitement. The work “Balance. (Ballerinas)” is different – an elegant and original game of planes. Two symmetrical dancers are stretched out on the very tips of the fingers, on the plywood cantilever. It is a playful treat for the eyes and the mind, trying to remember how it is possible to slide such a wooden origami so precisely.

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“Running Chairs” I could probably attribute to the Summer Olympics in the year it was created. The movement of this group of objects is reminiscent of the low-start stop-motion seen in sports textbooks. Unfortunately, the placement of the sculpture is not successful – such a zoetrope would need a wider area for starting a sprint. The stands behind fragment the view.

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Speaking of billboards and reference materials. I understand that they are necessary to fully show the activity of Jānis Straupe and to announce him not only as a representative of critical design or sculpture, but also as a designer. Both the timeline with testimonies of Straupe’s life and the podium with the most successful and quite practical examples from his career as a designer are a useful source of information. The author of the exhibition design is Rihards Funts. The stands are designed to be truly elegant, subtle and as inconspicuous as possible. However, as a viewer of the exhibition, who this time looks at everything from the standpoint of fine art, I would have liked this limited space, where I and the sculptures are, to be dedicated only to us. Only and only for Jānis Straupe’s sculptural works with their laconic names. They are worth it. The message and the charisma radiated by their form is sufficient and fills the hall, and it does not require additional supporting reasons – in the form of sketches and small design forms. All this could be viewed in an adjacent room or on the artist’s website. In the common hall, these materials compete with the sculptures, both visually harming them and oversaturating the viewer with information, exploiting the slightly mysterious mood.

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However, despite these scenographical difficulties, which can be explained by the lack of more space, the exhibition is magnificently crowned by the ambitious and monumental sculpture “Pendulum”, which is placed at the end of the hall, as if in a separate compartment. For “Svārst”, this special room – the high altar of the ancient church – is a great success. The sculpture itself is a huge circle: for some, it will seem like a sickle of the moon resting on the cold stone floor, for others, associations may arise with the ark of the flood mentioned in prehistoric myths. In these vast dimensions, being alone, this large object can breathe freely. It plays perfectly with the geometry of the room, slightly curved outside its niche, this semicircle visually connects with the vault above it. “Pendulum” is so impressive that under other circumstances it could claim its own exhibition. This large shape, which reminds me of a character from Ilmar Blumberg’s mythology, slowly, slowly, almost imperceptibly sways from one side to the other. It fluctuates.

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It is possible that through this work of art, freshly created during the war, the artist is expressing his thoughts about the great power shifts that are currently taking place around us. The movement is so slow that it is almost imperceptible and hypnotic to the eye and scale. I was lucky, I was there when, during the press tour, the artist pulled down the end of the “Pendulum” with a strong gesture as he passed by. All this great mass, cracking and rattling, jerked away so sharply that I cowered in surprise and a little fright. However, I saw what such large forms are capable of in dynamic movement. Later, I observed how much other viewers of the exhibition are captivated by “Pendulum” and how they approach it with timid awe. Yes, it has indeed freed itself from the patronizing mundanity of design to confidently belong among the special fraternity of contemporary sculpture.

Jānis Straupe’s solo exhibition “Ne-lietas” can be viewed at the Museum of Decorative Arts and Design until March 26.