Exhibition, Janusz Owsiany

Flights, Not Flights / Janusz Owsiany

Tytuł

19 December 2019

MIEJSCE WYSTAWY -

CZAS TRWANIA-

WERNISAŻ -

Interview conducted before the exhibition by Magda Chylak

Do you remember the moment in your life when you discovered that
sculpture was what you wanted to pursue, your way of expressing
yourself?

I was probably about 12 when I came across an art textbook in which I saw a reproduction of Veit Stoss’s altarpiece. It awakened in me the thought that one day I would become a sculptor.

Do you remember your first sculpture?

My first attempts as a child and teenager were small forms in limewood, which I made more by intuition than by knowledge. Today I remember them with a certain fondness and a smile on my face.

The subjects of your works are usually “open” and universal ones,
leaving plenty of room for the imagination. What motifs and symbols preoccupy you enough to explore them in your work?

The enduring subject of my work is the human being. The human being as a pilgrim, as a searching being, reflecting on the meaning of existence in the world, travelling in both a real and metaphysical dimension. Also as a being connected to nature, yet distinct from it. Another subject is nature, the natural world, its beauty and magic. I feel that such broad, loosely defined subjects allow greater freedom in using forms of expression that are suggestive rather than literal, unfinished. In other words, ones that allow the viewer, the audience, to add their own meaning.

The motif of the pilgrim appears in your work,
as a universal symbol of the human journey through life. Could you
develop this theme and tell us more about it?

I created an entire series of works titled “Pilgrims”. These are contemporary sculptures made of wood, symbolising, as you said, the human journey in a very broad sense. A journey not only through life, but also through the questions we ask ourselves and our own personal growth.

Broadly speaking, my inspiration comes from the human being and the age-old questions about the meaning of existence, and the struggle with transience. I have also created other series related to these themes, such as “Woman and Man”, “Sculpted by Fire”, “Eco”, “Prehistory”, “The Winged”, and “I Am”.

The exhibition you are currently presenting is titled “Flights, Not Flights”.

The exhibition relates to the natural world around us, and birds were therefore its inspiration. Of course, another theme that had to emerge was human movement through the world, covering immeasurable distances while being aware of the limitations imposed by human existence and the short time allotted to us.

And so, flying birds, with their carefree lightness, and humans who cannot fly, burdened by the age-old weight of conscious existence, will coexist in this exhibition.

You work with a variety of materials. Do you choose the material
to suit the subject of a work, or is it sometimes the case that the material,
because of its properties, suggests the subject, in keeping with the saying that
the sculpture is already hidden within it and all you have to do is remove the unnecessary layer?

You are right to observe that material often prompts a subject. When a material finds its way into my studio, it is given a chance at a second life in some form. Among other things, old ploughshares that once turned the earth and, worn out, ended up as scrap metal, change shape and form in my hands, taking on a new shape and meaning.

Sometimes, when I am looking for an idea, the mass of material itself suggests one to me. At times, an element suggests the idea of consciously using chance in art. Ploughshares are a great example of this. In Mallorca, Spain, I created “Winged Man” from the “Pilgrims” series, made from ploughshares, where chance itself became part of the creative process.

One particularly exceptional and unique sculptural material is black
oak. What makes it so unique?

Black oak, also known as “Polish ebony”, is wood found in bogs and floodplains. Its age is estimated to range from several hundred to several thousand years. The longer it lies in waterlogged conditions, the darker the oak becomes. The oldest black oaks range in colour from navy blue to black, while younger wood is grey. Before work can begin on this exceptionally difficult material, the wood must “season” in sand for around 10 years to acquire the right properties. So the choice of this particular material is not accidental. Black oak already carries the weight of time within it; it has its own history, an under-the-surface message contained in the material, complemented by the artistic idea and concept. The character of the oak is closely aligned with the artist’s message. It is therefore a very deliberate choice.

Since we’re talking about wood, your unique technique is “sculpting with fire”. What does it involve?

The wood is brought to the forge, where its surface is treated in a controlled way with glowing embers and a blowtorch. This creates a distinctive texture in the wood. Combined with forged metal, the wood prepared in this way creates a contrast in which the warmth of the fire-treated wood enhances the metal, and vice versa.

Am I right in understanding that all these techniques can be seen in the current exhibition?

Yes, visitors will be able to see both bog oak and elements carved by fire into wood, as well as a sculpture in white sandstone and smaller forms in forged steel. Human figures rendered in a schematic, almost abstract form, accompanied by birds, are made using a range of sculptural materials.

What significance do you think the material has for creative expression?

I would say it is fundamental. The bog oak I mentioned earlier is an example: both its character and the time-consuming process of working it are closely connected to the idea embodied in the work. It is a material imbued with a message—that of time. It symbolizes it vividly. Sandstone, too, with its hygroscopic structure and varying grain, yields a whole spectrum of textures when worked with a chisel, from raw roughness to subtle smoothness. By combining stone with metal, wood or glass, one can achieve a great variety of effects.

Each of these materials speaks in the individual language of its own substance.

How do your encounters with people influence your work?

Artist residencies, symposia and creative gatherings are probably the most important encounters for me. They involve an intense exchange of ideas and artistic experience, inspiration from other people’s art, and learning from fellow artists.

In a way, I’m a bit of a pilgrim in my own cycle of work; I travel a lot around Poland and abroad. I meet artists from various fields, including musicians. In all the places that have borne creative fruit in the form of exhibitions and major projects, the so-called “human factor” is very important in supporting an artist’s development. The conditions provided there made it possible to work and live in a certain degree of comfort. Respect for the artist and for creative work, and recognition of their contribution, are extremely important, but unfortunately are not always present.

I loved working in Mallorca, Spain, where I held two solo exhibitions. In Germany, during a metallurgical symposium, I created monumental forms five metres high and weighing several tonnes each. I also have fond memories of Sweden, where I worked on glacial erratic boulders. Everywhere, people created a very supportive atmosphere, including on the organizational side, which matters in such a particular line of work as sculpture.

In Chociemyśl, where you live and work, you are surrounded by
a picturesque sculpture park—not just your own works, which “live” among
the apple trees. Tell us how this place came about and what it means today to
you and your artist friends.

When I was travelling to various artist residencies, I realized that the place where I live could also be used to host such a gathering. It was 1991, and the first open-air workshops were held, attended by artists, mostly students from Wrocław, Poznań and Gdańsk. After a while, the workshops evolved into the International Creative Encounters, with guests invited from Ukraine, Germany, the Czech Republic and Slovakia. These gatherings continue to this day. Over the years, artists have left behind some of their works, most often made of stone, as well as installations in wood and metal. Most have survived and form a sculpture park so picturesque that some call it the Enchanted Garden. Today it is a meeting place not only for sculptors, but also for painters, musicians, writers and poets. Artist residencies, concerts, workshops and poetry evenings are held there, as well as informal gatherings where artists can exchange experiences and enjoy spending time together.

Thank you for the conversation, and I wish you every success in your future creative work.