Worlds of ‘crumbs and chaos’
Fossilised ghosts. The National Museum of Fine Arts (NMFA) will always be clad with memories of Dennis Vella. And sadly, I realise, that ever since his passing, I don’t visit the museum half as often as I used to. And yet, the present temporary shows,...
Fossilised ghosts. The National Museum of Fine Arts (NMFA) will always be clad with memories of Dennis Vella. And sadly, I realise, that ever since his passing, I don’t visit the museum half as often as I used to.
And yet, the present temporary shows, as well as the newly-restored Loggia had me on a trail to South Street in order to visit the ex-Admiralty House on more occasions than I could keep track of.
The instigator of this “change-of-heart” was decidedly Galina Troizky, or rather, her new body of work which she has collectively titled Archaeology of the Future.
In this show, this Russian-German artist, who is presently based in Gozo and Berlin is showing an impressive series of 14 large-format collage paintings at the NMFA’s Loggia.
As impressive as the works may be however, their chiefly monochromic appearance does not allow for much contrast with the Loggia’s fabric and surroundings. Moreover, works of this dimension make the more finicky visitors, such as myself, aware of the limitations of the temporary exhibition areas available at the NMFA. A few months back, I passed a remark about large paintings exhibited in the Contemporary Hall and how their size was problematic seeing as the works extended above and below the exhibition panels (permanent fixtures) available – the same applies in this case.
Unfortunately, the temporary exhibition spaces at the museum, although intimate to the right degree and more than adequate when hosting works on a smaller scale (such as the postage stamp design artworks by Emvin Cremona presently showing in the Contemporary Hall) are a deterrent to the appreciation of those larger works that require, or rather demand, a fair share of “breathing” space.
The one which I have most trouble with is the one which has been given prime and central position on the “site” previously occupied by the hefty sculpture portraying Anton Chekov. It fits tightly and uncomfortably behind an archway and seemingly sits on an easel which threatens to buckle under its weight at any moment.
But space restrictions aside, Ms Troizky’s works – each and every one – are immensely and inten-sely intricate grid-like patterns; each offering a densely packed view of a world that is or one that could be... one simply can’t be sure. And the uncertainty is captivating. The works in themselves are matrices – fantastical places conjured by a creator who is obviously fascinated by cities, their fabric and their constant state of flux.
Her works, punctuated by linear and/or expressive sections of dark acrylic pigment, seem to fit somewhere between the ideologies of Cubism, or at least its postmodern counterpart. From afar, the “shots” seem aerial, or at the very least they present a bird’s eye view of things, but seen in segments, chunks and portions things take on a very different perspective.
In fact, Ms Troizky’s collage-work is of a very sophisticated kind. Perhaps, the “reference” to Cubism is deliberate – Pablo Picasso and Georges Braque having coined the term collage (from the French word coller) in the early 20th century. Her puzzle pieces are neatly and painstakingly laid upon, or adjacent to, one another – and quite seamlessly so. Moreover, she sticks to a uniform “palette” where lots of dark, earthy and industrial colours dominate.
The colour green, together with any hint of vegetation, is absent from this collection – could this be her personal social commentary? Is this where Ms Troizky perhaps thinks the world is heading? A world in which nature and machine cannot co-exist without the one eventually annihilating the other?
The colour green might be absent, but so is the colour red. In fact, bright colours are done away with altogether. The overall painted picture is bleak, dreary and somehow, fatalistic.
But what is particularly amazing about these works, is the sheer multitude of detail. Often the collage pieces are small and insignificant were they to stand alone. But turned on its head or flipped to its side, a small piece of coloured paper, a cut-out, a snippet of a magazine or a newspaper takes on a new lease of life as it takes its place in Ms Troizky’s greater scheme of things.
While gazing into the plentiful vanishing points of Ms Troizky’s works, the words of Alex Callinocos came to mind: “The structure of the work of art... provides an order that has vanished from the world itself. Art thus serves as a refuge from the ‘crumbs and chaos’ into which the world has disintegrated, from what Eliot calls ‘the immense panorama of futility and anarchy that is contemporary history’.” (Postmodernism: A Critical Diagnosis, in The Great Ideas Today, 1997)
Archaeology of the future: But is it? Or is Ms Troizky shedding light on the current state of affairs? Ms Troizky might be depicting the “future”, yet her comment stands firm and strong, and Callinocos’s words persist in their resonance.
■ Archaeology of the Future runs at the Loggia, National Museum of Fine Arts, South Street,Valletta until October 17.