Interview with Sabine Sne: Latvian history, nature and contemporary art scene
Nastia Svarevska: Sabine, your work is now at Survival Kit, one of the most significant annual contemporary art events in the Baltics that takes place in Riga. This year's edition, ’The little bird must be caught’, explores whether art is necessary at a time of political turmoil. Can you tell me about the work you did for the festival and how it addresses the question?
Sabine Sne: I created a new mixed media installation. The work is about Mother Nature in the '80s when Latvia was part of the USSR and fought for independence. Many ecological issues appeared or reached the maximum level at the beginning of that decade. Nature was in ruins, and the environment was dirty. People started to protest against more pollution, which was one of the first steps towards independence.
NS: It’s very interesting how environmental issues played a part in encouraging people to fight for political independence. How did that happen?
SS: Well, protests started to happen in large numbers. A newspaper article about the Daugava River created huge resonance among people. There was an idea to build a Hydroelectric Power Plant near the second biggest city in Latvia, Daugavpils. The project would have destroyed important landscapes and locations, and the article inspired people to take action against the project. River, landscapes, and nature got saved. In the following years, the Nature Protection Club organised several activities, for example, an initiative for having clean air to breathe and praying for an unpolluted Baltic Sea. It provided people with an opportunity to come together and make themselves heard. So, the installation I created for Survival Kit consists of two videos. In one of them, you can read a text I wrote based on my research and memories of those who lived during those times. The other video shows moving and morphing land. There's also a box-like sculpture with metal plates on two sides as an interpretation of the iron curtain. In the box, a destroyed Mother Nature created from papier-mache sculptures, slowly repairing itself and getting back on its feet. Finally, there's a digital drawing printed on linen fabric with free Mother Nature. Half of it is traumatised with scars that would never heal, but the other half is ready for future endeavours and adventures. The title of the work, Lift Up Your Yellow Crown is borrowed from the poem ‘To a Dandelion blooming in November’ by late Latvian poet Knuts Skujenieks. He was one of those who openly opposed the Soviet regime and got accused of anti-Soviet activities that led to a prison camp in Russia.
Installation view of Lift Up Your Yellow Crown at the Contemporary Art Festival Survival Kit 13. ‘The little bird must be caught’ curated by iLiana Fokianaki, 2022. Photo: Ēriks Božis
NS: Lift Up Your Yellow Crown seems like such a fitting name, especially since it comes from a poem with a political connotation.
SS: Exactly. The work reflects on the times when the nation learnt to say ‘no’ to a polluted environment. While saving nature, it began rescuing itself and realising it wanted to make itself heard. Nowadays, with all the mess going on, it feels that having a voice is a privilege, and those of us who have it should use it to make the world a slightly better place. Culture and art are necessary in these unpredictable times. It gives a moment to breathe and a different perspective. I hope my work provides some insight into the recent history of Latvia and underlines the idea that valuing our environment is crucial. We need nature that can live.
NS: Where does your interest in the intersections between culture and nature come from? Do your culture and environment inform your practice?
SS: Yes, indeed. When I was little, I spent lots of time in the countryside. I'm a city girl, but I know how to do a farmer's job. I grew up surrounded by nature. Quite recently, I realised that my experience is unique. Not everyone has a chance to swim in clean water or climb on old trees or lay down in the grass on unpolluted soil. And I'm also interested in the question of identity, which I believe is moulded by the place we live, geopolitical context and people we have around. Sometimes I wonder if, in fifty years, we'd live underground and interact only via social media because the weather would be unbearable. Or if, in a thousand years, Earth would have had enough with humans, and our species would be gone. While creating my works, I try to incorporate different layers of historical and contemporary issues; yet, they always revolve around the question of how we can exist together on the Earth that wants us to live on it.
NS: So it all started in your childhood?
SS: Yes, I always loved what some people consider nerdy things, like reading books and puzzles. It's about gathering all the available information and then assessing the problem. Focus your attention, and you can solve the puzzle, or at least most of it. Follow the storyline, and you can find an answer to the mystery or the question of who you are and where you fit. By creating artwork, I build my own story, putting different pieces together to suggest my interpretation of it. But I have noticed that there is always this one piece missing. And that gives the urge to continue working and exploring topics.
NS: The theory of Gaia is very prevalent in your work. Can you define it and explain why you focused on it in your first solo exhibition, Partner, Parasite?
SS: About two years ago, I read about the theory of Gaia or Gaia hypothesis, proposed by scientist and writer James Lovelock in the '70s. It states that a planet is a self-regulating unit that functions and provides life with suitable living conditions thanks to the behaviour of and interaction between highly diverse organisms. I was mesmerised by the idea that Earth is alive. Although the theory faced criticism, some notable scientists supported it. One of them was a biologist and evolutionary theorist Lynn Margulis. She proposed that there are different parallel units, different 'jungles' that exist simultaneously and can have a creative and destructive nature. As Zane Onckule, curator of my solo show, wrote in the exhibition text, “these jungles meet and clash with one another, and every separate unit shapes its unique environment inside them.” It offered me a new perspective on the place we call home.
Installation view of solo show Partner, Parasite at KIM? Contemporary Art Centre, curated by Zane Onckule, 2022. Photo: Ansis Starks. Installation view of solo show Partner, Parasite at KIM? Contemporary Art Centre, curated by Zane Onckule, 2022. Photo: Ansis Starks
Installation view of solo show Partner, Parasite at KIM? Contemporary Art Centre, curated by Zane Onckule, 2022.
Photo: Ansis Starks
NS: How did you approach such a complex idea?
SS: The theory of Gaia is quite simple and relevant but consists of many different details and layers, which felt like a good amount of work to explore in the solo exhibition. I created a narrative from the beginning of life till now, when humans collectively started to act as partners and parasites for the Earth. The last work of the show was a video with a zero that grows out from nothing and disappears and then repeats the sequence forever. Because life always finds a way. I don’t think there would be a moment without life in the universe. The question is, are humans part of that life? In my work, I'm interested in ecofeminism, animalism and other ‘isms’ that put humans as one of many elements that live on Earth but not as the most important one. I try to get rid of anthropocentrism in both my artworks and lifestyle.
NS: Do you think artists are responsible for making these ideas more accessible to the public through their work?
SS: I don’t believe it is a necessary responsibility, and, of course, it depends on every artist and their goals. For me, it's crucial. These ideas are attainable if you have the internet or access to a library, but people who have this privilege don't always want to spend time educating themselves about them. It's harder to consider how our ancestors and we did so many things wrong, affecting our future on Earth, than watching cat videos or scrolling through TikTok. No judgment, I also do that sometimes. However, if people were more socially engaged and politically active, I'm sure we’d have a chance to find possible solutions for the future.
NS: The director of the Latvian National Museum of Art, Māra Lāce, said that Latvian artists are their own species. How would you interpret it?
SS: I've never considered Latvian artists a unique group compared to other artists. But Latvian artists are extroverted and introverted at the same time. Open, welcoming, and kind, but with a strong feeling of personal space. And they’re strong. They know how to create artworks and participate in cultural life while navigating issues with funding and state culture politics. That said, I think artists everywhere are their own species. They volunteer to dig deep into themselves and be open to everything around them. Almost like a sponge, they absorb images, transform them into ideas and put them out for the world as artworks.
NS: Do you have any Latvian artists, poets, writers, musicians or cultural theorists you return to for inspiration?
SS: There are quite a few of them. For example, I always go back to poetry by Klāvs Elsbergs and Juris Kronbergs. I'd never get tired of looking at works by painters who were the founders of the professional fine arts of the Latvian nation, like Janis Rozentāls, Vilhelms Purvītis, and Jānis Valters. Of course, I'm also inspired by emerging and established artists around me. They're all fabulous and talented.
NS: And what are the current tendencies in the Latvian contemporary art world?
SS: It seems to me that there are many experiments with different media. New technologies and AI works are as important as paintings and sculptures. I'm thrilled to see more artist-run spaces than there used to be. It shakes up the local art scene and brings it to life. Furthermore, there are different working methods and curatorial approaches, so I believe the contemporary art world in Latvia is very diverse. But we're not following the latest world trend - collectives, which is difficult to see as either good or bad. In general, we have exciting things going on, and Riga doesn’t feel like a periphery anymore. It's an important art centre in the Baltics and the Nordic region.
Fragment of the video. Part of the installation Lift Up Your Yellow Crown at the Contemporary Art Festival Survival Kit. 13 ‘The little bird must be caught’ curated by iLiana Fokianaki, 2022.