Koolkond on arenenud küllaltki ühtlases joones. Ei ole olnud eriti vapustavaid tõuse ega mõõnu. Meeldib, et koolkond ei kasuta, erinevalt paljudest teistest end kiviheitemasinana kõikide sõjas kõikide vastu. Ma pole täheldand ka Kursi koolkonnas liikmete händikäpliku üleshaipimist. Ükski koolkonna liige pole teiste, vaid iseenda konkurent. Kursi koolkond pole erakond. Igal liikmel on teda parteistumise eest kaitsev isiklik väärtus ja loomevabadus. Tal on vabadus asukohamaa valikus, võimalus osaleda koolkonna ühisüritustel, kuid isikliku loomingulise kulgemise määrab ta ise. Ühisüritustest võtab ta osa, ent kunstnikuna on iga üksiku liikme teevalik tema isiklik otsus. Selle veerandsaja jooksul hakkab juba välja kujunema koosluse iga liikme isiklik kunstibiograafia. Me saame rääkida kunstnike erinevatest loomeetappidest. Kursi üheksapäisel koletisel on iga pea oma õlgadel ja kuna nad ei kavatse veel laiali minna, jääks koolkonna mõtestatud ajaloo kirjutamine paratamatult poolele teele.
Veerandsada annab põhjust momentülesvõteteks üksikutest kursilastest.
Peeter Allik – viimasel kümnendil üha süveneva sotsiaalse sisuga. Sekkub Eesti asjadesse globaalsel tasandil. Kursilaseks olemise kestel on ta muutunud nii tehniliselt kui ka sissesõidunurga sihiseadmises. Tema teostes maailm sõidab meile sisse. Allik toob oma töödes globaalse küla meie keskele. Tema maalides väljendub vaimne paine füüsilise vägivalla anatoomilise väljundi kaudu. Mõneti on ta Bruegheli ja Boschi õpilane. Kunagi ilmus meil ajakirja Newsweek Eesti variant Luup. Alliku loomingus leidub mingit äraspidist luuplust. Graafikas tegeleb ta tagasivaatepeeglistatud tegelikkusega, maalis on ta ajastukesksem, ent igas tehnikas tunnetab ta väga täpselt vormi ja sisu ühtlust. Mida ta väljendab maalis, ei saa ta väljendada graafikas, ja vastupidi. Allik kuulub sellesse pühasse kolmainsusesse, kuhu kuuluvad veel Tüür ja Pajos – nende poliitilis-groteskne nihestatud reaalsuse terav tunnetus on viidud lausa absurdliku lõikavuseni.
Albert Gulk – kasutab tegelikult oma ulmelises hulluses end ümbritsevat tegelikkust, isegi lähimaid kaaslasi. Ta tõesti moonutab tegelikkuse ulmehulluslikuks. Uinuv mõistus sünnitab koletisi, võib-olla isegi freudistlikke koletisi. Ehkki ma ei ole kindel, kas Freud analüüsis ka õudusunenägusid. Gulgi barbie’d on ühtaegu barbie’d ja anatoomiliselt võigas vale. Deformatsioon annab oma nihkes neile unenäolise tegelikkuse. Tundub, et Gulk on suutnud tulla läbi Viiralti Põrgu, aga elus ta on, karsklaseks pole veel hakanud, ja kui ta kingikski oma pilte kirikuõpetajatele, rändaksid need sauna eesruumi.
Ilmar Kruusamäe – Kursi koolkonna käilakuju on lähiminevikus tegelenud teda ümbritseva maailma ja sõpruskonna dokumenteerimisega. Esimese suuremõõdulise portree Albert Gulgist („Vend Albert“) tegi ta 1999. aastal, viimase 2013. aastal Reiu Tüürist. Kursilaste portreteerimise kõrval kujutab ta suures formaadis teisigi tuttavaid. Aga Kruusamäe on juba nii pika loomingulise tee läbinud, et seda võiks verstapostideks jagada. Mina leiaksin tal ligi kümme eri suundumuslikku perioodi, aga see pole tõenäoliselt kõige tähtsam. Kõige tähtsam on, et Kruusamäe on suutnud seda kunstikantsi, mida Kursi koolkonnaks nimetatakse, ohjata ning piitsutada sörgilt galoppi kihutama. Üks asi on olla kunstnik koolkonnas, hoopis suurem asi on olla koolkonda koos hoidev kunstnik. Vähesed suudavad kahe nõnda erineva rolli taaka kanda. Ilmar suudab.
Priit Pangsepp – koolkonna üks staažikamaid liikmeid. Kogu tema kulgemist ilmestab koloriidimäng. Teda piinavad sugudevahelised probleemid ning painavad suhete kolmnurgad. Armastuse okkad. Minu jaoks on tema voolavas joones midagi hermafrodiitset, aga ka alasti keha mitmemõttelisust. Ta elab omas maailmas ja tundub, et mingil määral mõjustab teda arvutiasjandus, samuti Viljandisse hillitsetud elu. Temas elutseb edasiviiv tehniline paremuspüüdlus, mida tasakaalustab temaatiline stabiilsus. Pangsepa taiesed on nagu sitarimuusika – teatud kitsas vahemikus toimub äärmuseni viidud intensiivsusega peen muutuste tants.
Marko Mäetamm – Eesti Kunstiakadeemia õppejõu viimase aja tulmeks on suured kolmemeetrilised koomiksilaadsed taiesed. Temas on varjul lõikav satiirik. Maailmakodanikuna kasutab ta tekstis inglise keelt. Ta on äraspidine krutskivend, samas vägagi tõsine. Viimase aja loomes domineerib perevägivald, mänguasjade õuduses silmustunud hakklihamasin. Tema koomiks hakkab kasvama filmiks või teisisõnu, tema taiestes on multifilmlikku joonistatust. Nüüdset Mäetamme vaadates võib kergesti unustada, et Kursi koolkonda astumise algusaastatel tegeles kunstnik isegi natüürmordiga.
Reiu Tüür – temagi loomingus võiks näha nii sinist perioodi kui ka nüüdset punast perioodi. Võiks muidugi periodiseerida ka teisiti, sest vahepeal huvitasid teda ajaloolised teemad. Ta õppis Itaalias vaatama ja tunnetama mosaiiki. Võttes aluseks vanad gravüürid, leiutas ta oma käekirja – tänapäevasema, jõulisema, lihtsustatuma, kaasaegse graafika võtmes. Tema taieseid kannab tugev joon, kontrastsus. Viimasel ajal on ta temaatiline haare laienenud islamist innuiitideni – see rõõmustab. Üha enam süveneb ta maailmakultuursesse alusmaterjali. Tal on omad tehnilised nipid, koloriiti vahetab ta harva, kuid kui, siis otsustavalt.
Külli Suitso – näitusetunnetus on Kursi koolkonnaga kaasa käies arenend. Alustanud abstraktsionistina, on ta katsetanud nii kontseptualismi kui ka hüperrealismiga. Nüüdseks on ta jõudnud püsiväärtuseks muutunud abstraktselt reaalsete kastide perioodi. Need kastid on natüürmordilikud. Tal on olemas põlevad kastid, üle kleebitud kastid, ekraaniga kastid. Need tööd on nagu natüürmort kaubahallis – kahekordselt surnud maailm, mille kastikülgsel ekraanil püütakse meeleheitlikult edastada surmale määratud elu. Samas on tema TVpilt mõneti surma surmamine. Tehniliselt on ta täiustunud, värvid üha erksamad, värvitunnetus värskem. Tema kastide üksinduses peitub mingi müstiline lõhkumistahe ja vastuseis aiva legostuvale maailmale.
Imat Suumann – tedagi võiks periodiseerida, sest ta temaatilised tsüklid on üpris erinevad. Igale näitusele on ta toonud isesugused, ent lõplikuks tervikuks komponeeritud tsüklid. Sellased olid Ööpildid, Tartu majad, heinasaod ja teed, samuti Peipsiäärsed ning Ahja maastikud. Imat on oma katkematus moondumises viimasel ajal üha enam süvenend Tartusse kui ajalooga linna. Tean, et talle jättis avastusliku mulje Margus Laidre raamat „Dorpat 1558-1708. Linn väe ja vaenu vahel“. Imat loeb raamatuid teisiti kui mina. Mina hekseldan neid nagu silopurustaja, ent Imatile andis see üks raamat, millega ta tegeles rohkem kui aasta, enam kui minu poolt sama aja jooksul läbi loetud sada. Nii ta siis ongi praegu palimpsestses linnaperioodis, mille tausta loob Liivimaa sõja aegne Tartu arhitektuurilis-vaimne tegelikkus sümbioosis tänapäevase linnaga. Linn kadunud ajas ning kaasajas moodustab tema viimastes töödes mingi irreaalse, hukule määratud, samas varemeist tõusva hääbuva terviku.
Priit Pajos – tema töödest õõvastub minu jaoks mingit kummalist irvlikku fantasy’t. Piibellike sugemetega narratiivse muinasjutuilma kaudu räägib ta tegelikult paljuski oma elu- ja suguvõsaloost. Mulle on alati meeldinud tema koloriit, mis viimasel ajal kisub heledamuse poole. Tema illustratiivsed maailmad on mõneti jutustavad – tõsimeelsete kunstikriitikute kiuste, kellele kunstnik jutlustaja-jutustaja, olgugi või irvikuna, tavaliselt ei meeldi. Nood eelistavad ju rääkida rohkem koloriidist kui narratiivist. Literatuursus olevatki päris pärispatt. Aga mulle meeldib Pajose maalitud tekstide tõlgendamine, sest ta loob vähemalt tõlgendamisvõimaluste mitmekesisuse.
Kursi koolkond tundub oma veerandsajas olevat juba nii kompaktne, et võib ja peabki hargnema. Tüvi on küllalt tugev, et võra võiks tiheneda. Aga see nähtamatu, mis neid Ilmar Kruusamäe sõnul ühendas ja jääbki ühendama, on äraspidine huumor, groteskitaju ning ettearvamatu riukalikkus.
Hannes Varblane
Hannes Varbalse artikli täistekst “Veerandsada”
————————————————————–
Quarter of a Century
23.10.-17.11. 2013
In a sense it is not difficult to write to celebrate anniversaries. This is like a kind of progression where to what was before something that followed is added; at the same time something remains unchanged. What has remained unchanged since the turn of the millennium in the case of the Kursi School is their number. At the present moment there are still nine members in the School: Peeter Allik, Albert Gulk, Ilmar Kruusamäe, Priit Pangsepp, Marko Mäetamm, Reiu Tüür, Külli Suitso, Imat Suumann and Priit Pajos.
A quarter of a century gives reason for snapshots of the Kursi members.
Peeter Allik – seems to have a more and more deepening social content during the last decade. Interferes with Estonian problems at an international level. During his being a member of the Kursi School he has changed both technically and in the sense of purpose. The world in his works tends to drive straight into us. Allik places the global village in the midst of us in his work. In his paintings the spiritual tension is expressed through the anatomical output of violence. In a sense he is the disciple of Brueghel and Bosch. Some time ago an Estonian version of the Newsweek magazine called Luup (A Magnifying Glass) was published here. There is some kind of inverted relation to that magazine in Allik’s works. In his graphic work he likes to depict rear-view-mirrored reality; in painting he is more related to his time but be his technique what it may, Allik feels very precisely the unity of form and content. He expresses in painting what he cannot express in graphic works and vice versa. Allik belongs to that Holy Trinity where also Tüür and Pajos belong – their sharp politically grotesque perception of dislocated reality has been taken to an absurd-like sharpness.
Albert Gulk – uses in fact the surrounding reality in his fantasmal madness, even his closest companions. He really deforms the reality into some kind of mad fantasy. The sleep of reason produces monsters, maybe even Freudist monsters. Although I am not so sure whether Freud did analyse nightmares. Gulk’s Barbies are at the same time Barbies and anatomically gruesome lie. Deformation gives them a dream-like reality in its dislocated way. It seems that Gulk has managed to pass through Wiiralt’s Hell staying alive and not having become a tee-totaller either; if he would present his pictures to a parson, they would be hung in the dressing-room of a sauna.
Ilmar Kruusamäe – the figurehead of the Kursi School has been lately busy with documenting his world and his friends. He painted his first big portrait, a portrait of Albert Gulk (Vend Albert/Brother Albert) in 1999 and his last big portrait, that of Reiu Tüür in 2013. Alongside with portraying the Kursi members he has also depicted his other acquaintances in big format. But Kruusamäe’s creative path is so long already that it could be marked with milestones. I would find almost ten periods of different direction in his work but in fact this is not even the most important thing here. The most important thing is that Kruusamäe has managed to manage that art castle called the Kursi School and make it, by slight lashing, to go over from a trot to gallop. It is one thing to be an artist in a School; it is another thing to be an artist holding a School together. There are only a few who can bear the burden of two so different roles. Ilmar can.
Priit Pangsepp – one of the longest members of the School. His path is characterized by a play of colours. He is tortured by problems between genders and love triangles. Thorns of love. For me there is something hermaphrodite in his flowing lines but also the multiple meanings of a naked body. He lives in his own world and as it seems is somewhat influenced by computer things as well as by his Viljandi-centred life. There is a certain striving technical aspiration in him balanced by thematic stability. Pangsepp’s work is like the music of cither – a fine and intensive dance of changes taking place in a certain narrow range.
Marko Mäetamm – this teacher of the Estonian Art Academy paints lately big three-metre comics-like works. There is a cutting satirist hidden in him. As a citizen of the world, he uses English in his texts. Mäetamm is an inverted trickster – and at the same time very serious. In his latest work he depicts family violence and horrible meat mincers looped through with toys. His comic strip is even becoming a film or in other words, his work reminds the drawings of a multiplication. Looking at the present day works of Mäetmm, it might easily be forgotten that at the times of joining the Kursi School he occasionally even painted still lives.
Reiu Tüür – there are periods in his work too. A blue period in the past and a red period at present. His work might certainly be periodized in another way as for some time Reiu Tüür was interested in historical themes. He learnt to look at and understand mosaics in Italy. Taking old engravings as his example he found his own handwriting – a more modern and powerful one but simplified and in the key of modern graphic art. His works are characterized by a strong line and contrasts. In recent times his thematic range has expanded reaching from Islam to Inuit. This is delighting. He becomes more and more absorbed in the basic material of world culture. He has got his own technical tricks, he rarely changes his colours but when he does he does it decisively.
Külli Suitso – her sense of exhibition has grown with the years of Kursi membership. Having developed as an abstractionist, she has experimented with conceptualism as well as hyperrealism. By now she has reached a period of abstractly real boxes that have become a basic value. Those boxes remind one of still lives. She has also burning boxes, boxes pasted over, and boxes with a screen. Those works are like a still life in a supermarket – a doubly dead world where on the side forming a screen one tries desperately to impart life that is meant to die. At the same time, the TV-picture is in a sense killing death. Suitso has improved technically during years, her colours are more and more vivid and her feeling of colour fresh. There is a strange will to destroy, demolish in the loneliness of her boxes, also an opposition to the world becoming more and more Lego-like.
Imat Suumann – he could also be periodized as his thematic cycles are rather different. He has brought a different cycle to every exhibition which is always composed into a final whole. Like his Night pictures, Tartu houses, haycocks or landscapes of Lake Peipus and Ahja. Imat has in his constantly changing themes more and more been thinking of Tartu as of a town with a history. I happen to know that a book by Margus Laidre Dorpat 1558-1708. Linn väe ja vaenu vahel (Dorpat 1558–1709. A Town between Power and Enmity) left a deep impression on him. Imat reads books differently from me. I take them in like an ensiling machine but to Imat this one book at which he was busy for more than a year meant more than the hundred books I managed to read during the same period of time. And thus he is now in a palimpsest-like town period the background of which consists of the architectural-spiritual reality of the Tartu of the Livonian War in a certain symbiosis with the present town. The town has been lost in time and in his latest work it forms a kind of unreal doomed and waning whole which is at the same time resurrecting from the ruins.
Priit Pajos – for me, a kind of jeering phantasm breathes in his works. Through a narrative fairy tale world with some Bible motifs he often speaks of his own life and kin. I have always loved his colours, lighter in recent times. His illustrative worlds are partly narrative – despite of serious critics who usually do not like an artist who is at the same time a preacher, even if he is a jeering preacher. The critics prefer to speak more of the colours and the narrative. Literariness is a sin in their words. But I like interpreting texts painted by Pajos for he creates at least an interpretational variety.
The Kursi School seems to be so compact after its quarter of a century that it can and even must branch off. The stem is strong enough so that the branches may get denser. But that invisible thing that according to Ilmar Kruusamäe united them and unites forever is their inverted humour, feeling for the grotesque and unpredictable trickiness.
Full article text Quarter of a Century
Hannes Varblane
Translated by Kersti Unt
