http://blesok.mk/en/authors/slavica-janeslieva/
FROM THE CITY – solo exhibition
This exhibition is dedicated to the city. To my city. Skopje.
The city is I and I am the city. The city is you and you are the city.
Many exhibitions and events have been and are dedicated to the way Skopje is changing and shaping. I too subtly “talk” about it, but I don’t want to only criticize or praise, I want to convey my thoughts, memories and feelings through visualisations filled with metaphors and symbols.
During the past year of thinking about this exhibition, moving around the city has actually been active observation: noticing, searching, finding, photographing, collecting, and preserving small things that, strangely enough, always had something to do with something intimate: a memory, a story or an experience.
If I generalize, then I would say that with this exhibition I “speak” of what we have experienced, of what we feel strongly, but describe with difficulty. Whether this is deliberately or unintentionally caused, by whom, what and how is irrelevant. For me it is important that is does not leave you indifferent.
The choice of space is not random. I was looking for an intimate but neglected/deserted/lonely space. A space that testifies not only of time present and presence of individuals, but also of times past. A space that combined with the artworks will help elaborate on the topics of transience and changeability, of volatility, but also of memory and eternity.
At the same time, the fact that this private and intimate space, for at least a few hours, becomes open and public, and then returns to its original private, intimate, and closed state, helps me play with my thoughts on personality and society: the shaping of the person by society (people or the city) and vice versa, i.e. the shaping of society (or the city) by the person.
You will notice that the works are interwoven with everyday (more or less) present (visible and tangible) things. All are found (collected/preserved/photographed) in the city, on the street or in the yard. Given by the city to me and you/us.
It may be unnecessary, but still, for the sake of easier “reading” of the works I would like to state my interpretations of the metaphors and symbols (as well as point out my own works to which I relate). However, I do not insist that they are entirely yours.
Tailoring pattern: shaping (tailoring) a person; various influences that contribute to the formation of a person (such as joining individual pieces cut according to the pattern into wearable pieces of clothing); creating one’s own or one’s own destiny; life directions
Numbers: personal/ intimate meaning and/or clarification of the visual story
Spiders: fear, protection, motherhood, knitting, tailoring, home, attack (hunting)
Ants: biting, work/labour, harmony, chills, greed, selfishness, discomfort
Snails: home, path/trail/street, spiral, infinity (Fragility of Life, 2001)
Hair elastic: a story
Sky: the future, life of thought, play (Reading the skies, 1999)
Chess: war, struggle, life, paths /streets/directions, persistence (Chess and Sheepskin, 2001; The Game, 2006; Overcrowding, 2016)
Glass: fragility, volatility, pain
Bottle: contents, memories, smells/flavours
Shadows: communication, conflict, another dimension (Shadow, 2011/13)
Sink: rinsing, cleaning
Water: information, agitation
The city is I and I am the city. The city is you and you are the city.
Many exhibitions and events have been and are dedicated to the way Skopje is changing and shaping. I too subtly “talk” about it, but I don’t want to only criticize or praise, I want to convey my thoughts, memories and feelings through visualisations filled with metaphors and symbols.
During the past year of thinking about this exhibition, moving around the city has actually been active observation: noticing, searching, finding, photographing, collecting, and preserving small things that, strangely enough, always had something to do with something intimate: a memory, a story or an experience.
If I generalize, then I would say that with this exhibition I “speak” of what we have experienced, of what we feel strongly, but describe with difficulty. Whether this is deliberately or unintentionally caused, by whom, what and how is irrelevant. For me it is important that is does not leave you indifferent.
The choice of space is not random. I was looking for an intimate but neglected/deserted/lonely space. A space that testifies not only of time present and presence of individuals, but also of times past. A space that combined with the artworks will help elaborate on the topics of transience and changeability, of volatility, but also of memory and eternity.
At the same time, the fact that this private and intimate space, for at least a few hours, becomes open and public, and then returns to its original private, intimate, and closed state, helps me play with my thoughts on personality and society: the shaping of the person by society (people or the city) and vice versa, i.e. the shaping of society (or the city) by the person.
You will notice that the works are interwoven with everyday (more or less) present (visible and tangible) things. All are found (collected/preserved/photographed) in the city, on the street or in the yard. Given by the city to me and you/us.
It may be unnecessary, but still, for the sake of easier “reading” of the works I would like to state my interpretations of the metaphors and symbols (as well as point out my own works to which I relate). However, I do not insist that they are entirely yours.
Tailoring pattern: shaping (tailoring) a person; various influences that contribute to the formation of a person (such as joining individual pieces cut according to the pattern into wearable pieces of clothing); creating one’s own or one’s own destiny; life directions
Numbers: personal/ intimate meaning and/or clarification of the visual story
Spiders: fear, protection, motherhood, knitting, tailoring, home, attack (hunting)
Ants: biting, work/labour, harmony, chills, greed, selfishness, discomfort
Snails: home, path/trail/street, spiral, infinity (Fragility of Life, 2001)
Hair elastic: a story
Sky: the future, life of thought, play (Reading the skies, 1999)
Chess: war, struggle, life, paths /streets/directions, persistence (Chess and Sheepskin, 2001; The Game, 2006; Overcrowding, 2016)
Glass: fragility, volatility, pain
Bottle: contents, memories, smells/flavours
Shadows: communication, conflict, another dimension (Shadow, 2011/13)
Sink: rinsing, cleaning
Water: information, agitation
Space 1
Slavica Janeslieva
Only Something This Small Can Be Everywhere 1
Drawing on paper and glass, 41х100х3cm, 2019
details (below)
Only Something This Small Can Be Everywhere 1
Drawing on paper and glass, 41х100х3cm, 2019
details (below)
Slavica Janeslieva
Only Something This Small Can Be Everywhere 73
Drawing on paper with colourd pencils and pins, pastiche and drawing on glass with relief outliner, 45х100х3cm, 2019
details (below)
Only Something This Small Can Be Everywhere 73
Drawing on paper with colourd pencils and pins, pastiche and drawing on glass with relief outliner, 45х100х3cm, 2019
details (below)
Space 2
Slavica Janeslieva
Pain
Two photographs (45х65см.), varying dimensions, 2019
details (below)
Pain
Two photographs (45х65см.), varying dimensions, 2019
details (below)
Slavica Janeslieva
I Represent to You 1987, 1988 and 1989
Digitally processed photograph (41х100см.), three bottles with syrup and texts; varying dimensions, 2019
I Represent to You 1987, 1988 and 1989
In the basement of the house, stacked on a shelf, I store old glass bottles full of homemade juice. I can’t make myself to throw them away.
This summer I decided to read as many of Gospodinov's books as I can find. Among other things, he writes about his basement. I underlined and emphasized a bunch of words, sentences, passages, but I was immediately “grabbed” by the bottle that his grandfather had intended for him ever since the day of his birth: “That bottle should now be forty-four years old. If I find it and open it I will have distilled the whole of 1968… The number of sunny days during that summer, the early autumn rain, the humidity, the soil quality, the vine disease, all the history is written inside, in the glass bottle.”[1]
So there they are, in front of you! I present to you half evaporated 1987 and 1988 and the entire 1989. If you don’t remember those years in your life, take a look in these glass bottles, full of history, records and memories.
[1] Gospodinov, Georgi. The Physics of Sorrow, Ili-ili, Skopje, 2015, p. 168
I Represent to You 1987, 1988 and 1989
Digitally processed photograph (41х100см.), three bottles with syrup and texts; varying dimensions, 2019
I Represent to You 1987, 1988 and 1989
In the basement of the house, stacked on a shelf, I store old glass bottles full of homemade juice. I can’t make myself to throw them away.
This summer I decided to read as many of Gospodinov's books as I can find. Among other things, he writes about his basement. I underlined and emphasized a bunch of words, sentences, passages, but I was immediately “grabbed” by the bottle that his grandfather had intended for him ever since the day of his birth: “That bottle should now be forty-four years old. If I find it and open it I will have distilled the whole of 1968… The number of sunny days during that summer, the early autumn rain, the humidity, the soil quality, the vine disease, all the history is written inside, in the glass bottle.”[1]
So there they are, in front of you! I present to you half evaporated 1987 and 1988 and the entire 1989. If you don’t remember those years in your life, take a look in these glass bottles, full of history, records and memories.
[1] Gospodinov, Georgi. The Physics of Sorrow, Ili-ili, Skopje, 2015, p. 168
Space 3
Slavica Janeslieva
Only Something This Small Can Be Everywhere 2 – In Its Small House
Drawing with colored pencils (41х100cm), object with empty snail shells in bell glass (45х45х8cm) and photograph (45х45cm); dimensions variable, 2019
details (below)
Only Something This Small Can Be Everywhere 2 – In Its Small House
Drawing with colored pencils (41х100cm), object with empty snail shells in bell glass (45х45х8cm) and photograph (45х45cm); dimensions variable, 2019
details (below)
Slavica Janeslieva
Chess as Metaphor of Life
Drawing with colored pencils on paper, two chess pieces, drawing on glass with relief outliner and text, 45х100х3cm, 2019
details (below)
Chess as Metaphor of Life
Drawing with colored pencils on paper, two chess pieces, drawing on glass with relief outliner and text, 45х100х3cm, 2019
details (below)
Chess as Metaphor of Life
First I found the white pawn, and after a few days the second one, but black. I didn’t find them on the same day. I saw a few more chess pieces dropped/thrown on the street, but for some reason I didn’t take them.
Why do I find chess pieces?!
Strange, but chess seems to be constantly present in my life. I’m not much of a player. I used to play more in the past, probably because my dad was still actively playing chess, and I wanted to learn so I could play opposite him. But I wasn’t very persistent.
When I play with white figures, I know only two openings. Actually, you can start in a couple of ways, but I usually start with d4 or c4. Did I mention I found two chess pieces dropped/thrown in the street?
I’ve done a few chess and chess game artworks, but I’ve been thinking about a work connected to Bobby Fischer for a long time. I am fascinated by his obsession with chess and by his life. That is, the fact that his greatest success was the beginning of his end (as a chess player, that is).
Watching a documentary about Fischer and looking for symbolism about the two found chess pieces, I turn to the sixth game, from the World Chess Championship match against Spassky. Instead of the usual c4 opening (which I, as a laywoman, also know) Fischer opens with e4 and at the very beginning confuses Spassky who has been preparing his whole tactic based on Fischer’s usual opening. Did I mention I found two chess pieces dropped/thrown in the street?
“Chess like life is an existential game. All living creatures including us as kings are in a continuous game for survival until we’re checkmated and the game is over. The board is then cleared and a new game can start in a never ending cycle of struggles for survival.” [1]
Did I mention I found two chess pieces dropped/thrown in the street??
[1] Anonymous author, publishes under the pseudonym Lear
First I found the white pawn, and after a few days the second one, but black. I didn’t find them on the same day. I saw a few more chess pieces dropped/thrown on the street, but for some reason I didn’t take them.
Why do I find chess pieces?!
Strange, but chess seems to be constantly present in my life. I’m not much of a player. I used to play more in the past, probably because my dad was still actively playing chess, and I wanted to learn so I could play opposite him. But I wasn’t very persistent.
When I play with white figures, I know only two openings. Actually, you can start in a couple of ways, but I usually start with d4 or c4. Did I mention I found two chess pieces dropped/thrown in the street?
I’ve done a few chess and chess game artworks, but I’ve been thinking about a work connected to Bobby Fischer for a long time. I am fascinated by his obsession with chess and by his life. That is, the fact that his greatest success was the beginning of his end (as a chess player, that is).
Watching a documentary about Fischer and looking for symbolism about the two found chess pieces, I turn to the sixth game, from the World Chess Championship match against Spassky. Instead of the usual c4 opening (which I, as a laywoman, also know) Fischer opens with e4 and at the very beginning confuses Spassky who has been preparing his whole tactic based on Fischer’s usual opening. Did I mention I found two chess pieces dropped/thrown in the street?
“Chess like life is an existential game. All living creatures including us as kings are in a continuous game for survival until we’re checkmated and the game is over. The board is then cleared and a new game can start in a never ending cycle of struggles for survival.” [1]
Did I mention I found two chess pieces dropped/thrown in the street??
[1] Anonymous author, publishes under the pseudonym Lear
Slavica Janeslieva
Communication
Drawing with colored pencils on paper, drawing on glass with relief outliner, hair bands and text, 45х100х3cm, 2019
details (below)
Communication
Drawing with colored pencils on paper, drawing on glass with relief outliner, hair bands and text, 45х100х3cm, 2019
details (below)
Communication
This year, while visiting a showroom, I met an older man who made a strong impression on me. I think he was sixty or seventy years old. With grey hair and beard, dressed in black. Pleasant and eloquent man. He spoke with zeal and passion about the art collection, the challenges and successes, and yet he remained strangely peaceful and calm. It was as if he knew something unknown to me and radiated with transferable serenity and mysticism.
As soon as I entered the space, on some of the books and catalogues intended for review and sale, I noticed (placed not very neatly) black hair elastics/bands.
Having looked at the collection, the man in a talkative and good mood wanted to show me his room/office which he called a cell. In the “cell” on a long shelf to the right of the door, I again noticed lined black hair elastics. This man had no long hair and the elastics, I presumed, were not his. I thought it might be some artistic intervention that I didn’t understand, so I asked what the thing with the elastics was. Unexpectedly, I was given a sincere confession of a tragic loss (wife and son). Of the pain and dealing with it. In the end, he told me, “You might think I’m crazy, but I’ve been finding black hair elastics everywhere since then, and I want to believe that’s a way I’m communicating with them.”
At that moment I knew what this man knew, and I didn’t know. He has learned to live with pain and has found a way for life to make sense and be tolerable, in spite of it all. Now, what is even stranger, but probably explainable by the awareness of the above said, is that ever since I have been finding hair elastics almost daily on the street, but not just black.
Author of the texts: Slavica Janeslieva
Many thanks to the Velkov family, especially Gordana Velkov (Touch The Space).
This year, while visiting a showroom, I met an older man who made a strong impression on me. I think he was sixty or seventy years old. With grey hair and beard, dressed in black. Pleasant and eloquent man. He spoke with zeal and passion about the art collection, the challenges and successes, and yet he remained strangely peaceful and calm. It was as if he knew something unknown to me and radiated with transferable serenity and mysticism.
As soon as I entered the space, on some of the books and catalogues intended for review and sale, I noticed (placed not very neatly) black hair elastics/bands.
Having looked at the collection, the man in a talkative and good mood wanted to show me his room/office which he called a cell. In the “cell” on a long shelf to the right of the door, I again noticed lined black hair elastics. This man had no long hair and the elastics, I presumed, were not his. I thought it might be some artistic intervention that I didn’t understand, so I asked what the thing with the elastics was. Unexpectedly, I was given a sincere confession of a tragic loss (wife and son). Of the pain and dealing with it. In the end, he told me, “You might think I’m crazy, but I’ve been finding black hair elastics everywhere since then, and I want to believe that’s a way I’m communicating with them.”
At that moment I knew what this man knew, and I didn’t know. He has learned to live with pain and has found a way for life to make sense and be tolerable, in spite of it all. Now, what is even stranger, but probably explainable by the awareness of the above said, is that ever since I have been finding hair elastics almost daily on the street, but not just black.
Author of the texts: Slavica Janeslieva
Many thanks to the Velkov family, especially Gordana Velkov (Touch The Space).
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