INTERNATIONAL EXPERIENCE
Sandra: Perhaps we can explore the international experience using the same approach: starting from the inception of the idea, tracing its development, and identifying the most challenging aspects.
Paula: The initial idea stemmed from discussions with the curators, as we had numerous Zoom meetings together. My team members, being an artistic duo, proposed the idea of creating a performative opera piece collaboratively, with the residents eventually joining in. In May, during a study visit, I met with the local choir master, who turned out to be quite intriguing. However, the original concept I had envisioned was drastically different. Initially, I was tasked with taking the lead in the performative aspect of the project. Upon meeting Anya and Andrei, the Croatian duo, we immediately clicked and formed fantastic chemistry. However, when the residents arrived, who were primarily visual artists, the dynamic shifted. There was a certain expectation for us to guide and teach them, which none of us were prepared for. The residents sat around the table, expecting tasks and direction, catching all three of us off guard, especially given the limited timeframe of only ten days.
Sandra: Only 10 days.
Paula: In 10 days.
Sandra: You were there a month, right?
Dāvis: 22 days.
Sandra: At least 3 weeks. And you were there for 10 days, and previously, 5 days.
Paula: But you know, attempting to create something performative in just ten days was quite a challenge. Initially, I had this feeling that Anya, Andrei, and I could pull it off due to our chemistry, experience, and drive. However, upon meeting the residents, we encountered a different dynamic. While they were amazing and talented individuals, there seemed to be an expectation for a more educational approach, which was challenging given our limited time frame. We felt the pressure of time ticking away, and there were moments when we made decisions independently, only to feel the audience’s dissatisfaction. There was a breaking point where we doubted if we could produce the final piece before the residency ended. It was a learning experience for me, as I navigated the delicate balance of pushing some residents while allowing others the space to pursue their own creative paths. It was particularly challenging given the diverse fields of art represented by the residents. How could I effectively mentor someone making video games, for instance? It was a learning curve for us all, especially since we were all roughly the same age. We had anticipated being mentors, but the reality differed from our expectations. The residents seemed to expect tasks like those given in school, and there was a tendency to wait for instructions rather than taking initiative. With the added challenge of 40-degree heat, it became increasingly frustrating. We faced challenges with the choir master, whose unreliability became a significant obstacle. Despite our efforts to collaborate, the choir master’s lack of commitment ultimately led us to question whether we could achieve our goals. We had to confront the reality that perhaps the project couldn’t be completed as envisioned.
Photo by Marija Kovač, from Paula’s residency
He was the main person taking care of the other community members. There was this breaking point where we feared that the residency would end without any performance. They were the only performers we had, and it was just three days prior to the main event. I kept insisting that I could do many things, but I couldn’t pull off a performance without any rehearsals. Then, he started to push a little bit. We discussed with a French sound engineer the possibility of recording their voices and using some kind of AI or other technology, because it’s opera, and none of us could sing. We could dance, paint, make video games, but singing was beyond our abilities. In the end, they didn’t come to the rehearsal, and we had just an hour-long rehearsal on the day of the performance. And during the performance, one of the guys didn’t show up. I found myself rushing to a tourist shop to buy him a costume because he had forgotten his at home or something. At that point, I reached a breaking point where I just didn’t care anymore. He was supposed to dress as a sailor or something, so I bought some hats from the tourist shop for a crazy amount of money just to make him look like something. In the end, Anya, Andrei, and I, the three mentors, found ourselves working on most of the workload. We were frequently at odds with the choir and the residents, who at times seemed lazy, annoyed, or fatigued. It felt as though my artistic aspirations were being overshadowed by the demands of production. Anya and Andrei echoed similar sentiments. During a conversation with Carmen, the curator who was born on the island, she shed light on the mentality prevalent in Dalmatia, particularly in areas facing the sea. She explained that during the peak tourist season, people are often exhausted and simply yearn to unwind. Consequently, they may agree to commitments but then consistently postpone or cancel at the last minute, leading to frustration. Carmen suggested that perhaps next time, she wouldn’t schedule the residency off the tourist season because the environment changes drastically. When we were there in May, it was a completely different atmosphere.
Sandra: From one perspective, the biennale aimed to provide an alternative for tourists during the hot season when most visitors flock to the island. Rather than just sitting and sipping drinks, they wanted to offer something enriching and engaging through the residency project.
Paula: Yeah, you can certainly do that. If you don’t want to work with the local people, you have the option to bring in artists and create amazing art. That’s true. There’s this phenomenon where, at around ten-thirty in the morning, you start hearing party music coming from the sea, someone speaking on a mic. Then, five huge boats come and dock, filling up the tiny streets of the village. Sometimes, the tourists on these ships don’t even know which island they’re on. Previous artists have created incredible pieces, welcoming these tourists on the docks with amazing tours, essentially transforming the island into something entirely different for them. However, if you want to work with the local community, it’s a different story. They’re tired of the influx of tourists and just want to be left alone. That’s why Carmen mentioned that if you want to engage with the community, you have to do it during the off-season.
Photo by Marija Kovač, from Paula’s residency
PROCESS VS RESULT
Linda: Then, there’s always the big question: as an institution or as an artist, when we go to the community, do we show them these great experiences without ever acknowledging whether they want them or not? Because sometimes, the teenagers just want to sit and play Uno, and we’re left wondering why they don’t want more when we’re coming with such generosity. That’s probably another question: how do we work or invite the community, not just to use them as material, but to work together with them? I think this is a never-ending question we’ve grappled with for many years. It’s a bit arrogant to come and say, “I have this gem, and you’re just silly if you don’t appreciate it.” Often, they’re not getting paid, but it shouldn’t just be about the money; it should be about a need, a curiosity, whatever it is that compels them to spend their free time outside of work. But I don’t think I’ve ever heard a great answer that works for all cases.
Paula: In this case, it’s a specific location, a small island in the sea. But, at the end of the day, the kids were a bit easier to engage. Because the parents don’t know what to do with them on this island during the summer, they’re more willing to let them go out and do something. But yeah, I think it’s about how you approach working with communities. You can’t just come in thinking, “Oh, I have to work with communities,” and push your ideas onto them, expecting them to automatically like you because you’re a cool, fun, and outgoing artist. Instead, you have to do the prep work beforehand. You have to really understand what the communities are willing to do, what their needs are, what time of the year it is, and what time of day works best for them. That was always an issue for us because early mornings or late nights were challenging due to the heat taking over everything. At night, they wanted to party or have family gatherings. A huge amount of prep work needs to be done before you even start to think about the idea. In the end, the audience came, and there were a lot of people—nobody expected so many. It was crowded, the narrow streets were packed with people, and the Biennale organizers were ecstatic. But I feel a bit off because all I had done those ten days was fight with the locals and those artists. That’s not my best, and there’s almost nothing of my art in there; I was just in some way managing people. It was an amazing experience, and I loved it, but it would have been even better if I could have contributed more of my artistic value to it, rather than just managing people. Perhaps it needed to be longer so that all three of us could fully utilize and express our chemistry. It was actually a huge production; I would need at least two months.
Eva: I was also considering the pressure for results. For example, is the goal of this residency to create something tangible, or is it more about fostering relationships among the artists? For me, it’s an important distinction because the goal and the result are often different. Sometimes the goal is broader than the specific outcome, and if we focus solely on the outcome, we might overlook the deeper intentions. This is why I feel intense and nervous about the result, because I perceive the goal and the result as synonymous, and I find that problematic.
Paula: That was our suggestion; we proposed to the curators that perhaps this residency could exist without a clear endpoint. However, they had already advertised the event extensively on social media and elsewhere, promising an outcome. When we brought up the idea of an ongoing process rather than a specific result, they began to push for a tangible outcome. So, in the end, that’s how it unfolded.
Sandra: In our discussions with Linda, we’ve also been contemplating the question of residency form. Dāvis, do you have any insights from your own experiences to contribute to this discussion?
Photo by Dāvis Kaņepe
Dāvis: I think my case is quite different because I was sent to a very wide area without any kind of clear direction. The Muslim community in Adjara is significant, and the Tbilisi photo museum, the curators actually work for the community in Tbilisi, and want them to know about the Adjara Muslim communities. I had to work within the Muslim communities and somehow represent them to the people in Tbilisi who would discover them. However, it wasn’t clear to me what they really wanted. Looking back, I would have liked some preparatory work to be done. For example, if there had been a clear understanding of the community and its activities, it would have been helpful. In May, I visited a village where there was a national ballet and dance collective. Girls were dancing, which is uncommon in Muslim countries. I thought it could be a point of interest, but the performance was canceled, and there were no rehearsals. Additionally, the curators advised against it, saying it wasn’t special for Adjara, as the national dance was specific to another district. However, I argued that even if it wasn’t unique to Adjara, the fact that the girls were still doing it was significant. When I arrived, I was quite lost. I decided to take it easy in the first week, walking around and being open to whatever happened. However, not much occurred, as the first five days were spent in a remote village with limited contact. I realized I needed to move away from this small village to make meaningful connections. So, I relocated to another place called Huro, where I met some youngsters and became involved in their stories and activities.
Sandra: In which language did you communicate?
Dāvis: English and/or Russian. One week passed, and I thought it would get easier, but on the eighth day, it was still challenging. I realized during that week that everything takes much longer than expected. For example, traveling 22 kilometers takes one and a half hours, which is like going from here (Rīga) to Jūrmala, but in a village setting with poor roads. I noticed that every family in the area wants to open a hotel, inspired by a Belgian guy who opened a camping site where one night costs 150 euros, which is half the monthly average pay there. Everyone has future expectations about tourism and development, but nothing seems to be going according to plan. People are asking for opinions on their hotel plans, even though their houses are still in ruins. I decided to focus on the theme of expectations regarding globalization and modernity. Three stories stood out to me: the aspirations of people wanting to open hotels, the challenges they face, and the disconnect between expectations and reality. For example, one person asked me to create an Instagram page for his hotel, but there was nothing to showcase as the facilities were nonexistent. In the end, I’m happy because my experience was very personal and artistic. Adjara starts with Batumi, which is like a Disneyland for Russian tourists, with skyscrapers resembling Las Vegas. Just two hours away, you reach a completely Muslim community with a very different atmosphere. I spent two days in Batumi, capturing street photos, including a series of out-of-focus Russian tourists, to convey a sense of detachment. During my time there, I also witnessed protests against a Russian ship’s arrival from Sochi, which led to arrests. One person I met at a bar was arrested, and I followed his court case ten days later. Despite evidence showing his innocence, he was fined 600 euros, highlighting the government’s pro-Russian stance. However, the community supported him by donating money to cover the fees. Overall, I’m pleased that I had the freedom to express myself and create my project as I wished. The plus side was that I had complete freedom; I could choose my subject and go wherever I wanted. However, this freedom might have been a minus because it didn’t align with the organization’s expectations or the initial goals of the residency, which were to work with the community. Instead, I created my own bubble community within the region, focusing on the younger demographic. Regarding relationships, I formed three deeper connections that I believe will last. I now have friends in the area, which adds a personal dimension to my experience.
Photo by Dāvis Kaņepe
Dāvis: But, for example, can I ask you, how did you organize the residencies in Latvia as curators? Did you clearly define the desired outcomes for projects in places like the refugee camps or Ķengarags?
Sandra: This time, the only thing we defined for Ķengarags was the neighborhood itself, and that activities should take place in public spaces. There were a couple of things that we communicated to the participants. For example, we mentioned the existence of the community, but emphasized that it was open for them to choose whether to work with seniors or youngsters. It was really cool that Modesta and Elīna introduced us to new youngsters who hadn’t been engaged with by previous artists working in Ķengarags. When they brought us to Ķengarags, our expectation or framework was to focus on one of Riga’s neighborhoods. For Vita, it was also about her existing desire to work with refugee youngsters, and we invited her to do so as part of the Magic Carpets residency
Photo by Dāvis Kaņepe
Linda: Regarding the expectations of the result, most of the time we are thinking of this end result as an opportunity to summarize the process, to celebrate it, and to come together for one final time. It’s just nice to have this final collective meeting as a celebration and also as a collective achievement, a goal.
Dāvis: Also, by the third week, you really start to feel more confident in yourself and get to know the territory better. But there’s always that feeling that if I had two more weeks… But then I also realized that for me, going to that community and finding just one person who is not representing some community of seniors or something, just having one relationship with one person who is local, is already a result of being and collaborating with this community. Because they represent different age groups, genders, and positions.
-To be continued –