"The motifs in my work are destruction, the decay of reality, pathological and toxic relationships between people" says Jakub Gliński in the third episode of "Behind the Art" video, produced by PURO.
Looking at your pictures, I see bold gestures, layers, parts that are crossed out or painted over. Tell me about your creative process.
I don’t paint every day, I work in series. Whether it is music, paintings, or performance art, it comes from inner necessity. I’ve never had routines, sketches, or plans. I work intuitively. I generally don’t know the end result in advance. I work on several dozens pictures at the same time, but usually just a few of them end up on display. My art is always expressive. It comes from a need to emote, to regulate my feelings, or to work through my experiences. When I begin a series it usually means there is a situation in my life that needs working through. My art synchronizes with my inner life. I see art as a means of therapy.
Could you tell me what events these have been?
They usually come from relations with my loved ones, but also from difficult collective or social experiences. I remember I began work on the Memory Removal exhibition at the Galeria Miejska in Wrocław two days before the outbreak of war in Ukraine. Like everyone else, I was quite moved by the event, and this came out in my canvases. Of course, you won’t find direct references or themes from the war, but I think you can sense the anxiety, anger, and disorientation.
What else inspires you?
I work subconsciously, but there are many subjects that recur, like pathological human behavior that harms others and the planet, the destruction of reality, adverse historical events. They’re good at reflecting my state of mind and help me cope with my emotions. I’m interested in the human psyche. I make self-portraits of mental states. Yet I have no urge to deeply analyze what I do. The most important part is the creative act itself. I leave the interpretation of those pictures to the viewers and I’m always glad to hear what they have to say, what emotions I stir in them.
What do you do when you’re not making art?
Usually, I paint intensively for two weeks or a month, making a few dozen pictures. After that I’m exhausted, as if my batteries were drained. I must take a break. Before my last exhibition, Worst Case Scenario, at Gunia Nowik Gallery, I hadn’t painted for nearly a year. During that time, I explore other things, such as music or video art, or have time for my passions outside of art, like economics or cars. I read books, take in exhibitions. The Internet is also a great inspiration. I subconsciously gather various motifs in my mind. I observe reality. I don’t note things down, but when I paint it, all comes pouring out of my head. Then comes the point when I grapple with it—I rework and process it. Expression, intuition, and error are the pillars of my work.
Do you know where you got this method?
The cyclical nature of my work could be tied to my ADHD personality, which goes through various phases, peaks of interest, hyperactivity, and then fatigue or crisis. I often seek out new sources of interest or dopamine and try out different media. I’m fortunate that my profession lets me function, despite my disorder.
Owing to these constant changes in interests, you’ve become a total artist, working in various media, such as performance, music, tattoos, installations, and painting.
Each of those media lets me express a slightly different spectrum of emotions and experiences. My performances, for instance, are aggressive, physical, self-destructive, they let me to regulate bad emotions or frustrations. Creating music requires a different kind of concentration, though the final effect can be similar, because I make noise music, which is the most extreme sonic form. This interdisciplinary approach did not come out of my education. I came to most of those media intuitively, teaching myself how to work the music or video programs.
What is your educational background?
I studied painting in Krakow, but I didn’t take it too seriously at the time. It was a pretext to move out of the house and be near the club scene, which totally obsessed me. Sometimes I spent three or four days a week in clubs. I made electronic music, noise, and also created performances. At midnight I went to the middle of the dance floor and did noise performances.
What did those involve?
I had low self-esteem at the time and performing for an audience was a nightmare, which is why I started performing in masks, creating extensive costumes out of garbage. That and various narcotic substances made me feel more free. I created the “noise” instruments myself. I forced the audience to interact, often with aggressive and destructive behavior, wrecking spaces. A few times I wound up in the hospital after accidentally harming myself, like in the I’ll Go Home in an Urn project, where I designed a set out of items I found near the place of the performance, often sharp, metal objects.
Later you did similar performances in galleries and institutions.
I often showed them at the openings of solo exhibitions or during festivals. I remember some rough and expressive actions at the Goethe Institute and at Królikarnia in Warsaw. They took a toll, physically and mentally, which is why I seldom do them now. I was trying to cut myself off from thinking logically, I only wanted to work with my body and emotions. I wanted to create an uncomfortable situation for the audience. Reactions to those pieces varied dramatically, from laughter to tears or evacuating the room.
When did you start doing visual art?
As I said, the traditional education system wasn’t right for me. I only returned to painting after my studies, when no one could judge or control me, and I had total freedom of expression. My breakthrough moment was finding the airbrush, which became my favorite tool for painting.
Did you also do graffiti?
After moving to Warsaw, my first place to meet other artists was V9 Gallery on Hoża Street, and the street art scene there. I joined a few nighttime escapades, but I can’t say I did graffiti. The airbrush stood in for spray-paint, but it was more precise, more like drawing. I didn’t identify with the arts scene back then. Arriving in Warsaw, apart from the V9 I only knew two art spaces—Raster and the National Museum. I slowly began finding other institutions and other artists.
When did it all fall into place?
One breakthrough moment was when Zuzanna Derlacz invited me to do a solo exhibition at lokal_30. I made all the pictures on the spot, in a few days. I usually worked that way, I came a few days before the show with rolls of fresh canvas, slept in the gallery, and spent days at a time painting.
How did the curators react to that?
We usually had a relationship built on trust. I trusted myself, that I’d be able to do a project that made sense, and the organizers trusted me as an artist.
You were also one of the head organizers of the Śmierć Frajerom Gallery. What was that all about?
I shared a studio with a few artists in Praga [a district of Warsaw—trans], where we organized events that combined pop-up exhibitions and DJ sets and performances with a punk, DIY vibe. I was most fascinated by linking various scenes, from teens to club kids to contemporary art people. Then the gallery was a precursor to an exhibition venue in the Metaverse, using blockchain technology. The name itself, the event descriptions, and the gadgets we produced made the events a success. That was a moment when grass-roots galleries and initiatives to put on shows in unconventional places were exploding everywhere.
You went from the underground to one of Warsaw’s top galleries.
For an artist, being represented and cared for by a gallery is a great opportunity. Now I can just focus on my art. I don’t have to worry about organizing exhibitions or selling pictures, which distracted me from my work. Anyway, I still like taking part in grass-roots projects. I’ve always felt at home working in different environments—clubs, music, visual arts, and now with a professional gallery and fashion labels.
The most important thing is you keep it real.
The most important thing for me is holding on to the pleasure in being creative and always developing.
What do you intend to work on now?
I’ve recently been doing a lot of work in silkscreen and want to explore that more. Apart from that, for many years I’ve been collecting objects for ready-made installations and I hope I’ll have the chance to make something bigger. I’d also like to get back to music. I few years back I did a broadcast for Radio Kapitał, and I’d like to do that again, so I’m gathering audio materials, energy, and inspiration. Although I’ve always had the same style, I need change, and all my exhibitions are different. That comes from my work method. I’m always transforming. When I go back to painting, I’m at a completely different moment in my life. I approach the canvas as someone else.
Interview: Michalina Sablik
Video: Tala Dołgowska
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