Four Sculptures in Fifteen Pieces, 5min 39sec, 35mm film transferred to 4K/HD, color, sound, installation View, Kumu Art Museum, Tallinn, 2022
S 430, S433, S436, S 445, archival pigmnet ink print, 46,79cm x 58,5cm, framed with museum glass
Four Sculptures in Fifteen Pieces looks at the themes of creation and destruction. The film highlights the preserving role of museums and elevates it to be part of the content and narration. In the film we see fragments of classical marble sculptures depicting human figures and a professional art conservator operating the sculptures in the staged space of a film. The sculptures seen in the film are excavated fragments from the ruins of an Art Museum of Estonia destroyed during the bombing of Tallinn in the spring of 1944. The fifteen pieces are originally from four different classical marble sculptures sculpted by Amandus Adamson (1855-1929) and August Weizenberg (1837-1921).
“On 9 and 10 March 1944, the Soviet Air Force attacked Tallinn. The carpet bombing injured and killed civilians and entire parts of the city were destroyed due to the ensuing destruction and fires. Many people were left homeless. Amongst many other structures, the temporary building of the Art Museum of Estonia was also burned down. Most of the works of art had already been evacuated from the museum to manor houses, rural school buildings and other safer places outside the centre of Tallinn. The more difficult-to-move works, such as large-scale paintings and sculptures, were hidden in the basement of the museum, but this did not protect them from the damage caused by the fire.
In 1946, the works of art were excavated from the rubble of the museum building. The damaged sculptures were inventoried and were initially restored by the sculptor and painter Henrik Olvi (1894–1972) and the sculptor Herman Halliste (1900–1973). However, some of the works had been irretrievably shattered or partially burned into sand-like rubble. These included Adamson’s Watching a Sunrise and Last Sigh of a Ship and Weizenberg’s Christ and Figure of a Woman: Mildness, which we see in Jonna Kina’s film.
Kina’s film is like an adhesive that binds the pieces of the sculptures together again, although as different compositions, thus providing an opportunity to re-exhibit them. The artist did not assign hierarchical importance to the fragments of the works, i.e. the slow movement of the camera makes the pieces of all four works seem equally important, from a small piece of marble to a half-torso. In the film, the artist’s position is clear, showing respect for the conservators and their work, which is done with dedication and care.
Kina deals with creation and destruction, and, using the fragments of war-damaged sculptures, draws attention to the important role that museums play as custodians of artistic heritage. Museums are not only exhibitors of works of art, but also their caretakers. There are also components that are not visible in the exhibition space, i.e. the vast collections, stories and all the people that comprise the museum.
Jonna Kina (1984) is a multidisciplinary Finnish artist. The story of the Four Sculptures in Fifteen Pieces film dates back to 2019. At that time, the artist became interested in the sculptures by Amandus Adamson (1855–1929) and August Weizenberg (1837–1921) in the Art Museum of Estonia collection that were damaged when Tallinn was bombed during World War II in March of 1944. As the film was being completed, present-day layers were unexpectedly added to the historical perspective.”
– Tiiu Saadoja, curator, Kumu Art Museum
‘Four Sculptures in Fifteen Pieces’:
A Significative And Contemplative Act Of Attention by Ramiro Camelo
In Donald Barthelme’s short story “See the Moon?” the narrator, a writer who wanted to be a painter, maintains a series of souvenirs pinned to a wall. He hopes they will someday merge, blur, cohere is the word, maybe into something, a meaningful whole. Barthelme affirms of him, “Fragments are the only forms he trusts”. In today’s social life where almost everything is mediated by technology or social media, we tend to believe our life might be fractured or incomplete, then is stimulating to the mind to imagine what might have been, or could be, in the slippery human quest for certainty and completeness, we fantasise in putting all the puzzle fragments together.
The word fragment “a small piece or part,” derives from Latin fragmentum “a fragment, remnant,” literally “a piece broken off,” from base of frangere “to break”. A fragment is a piece of a whole which might be torn, shattered or severed, in some manner fragmentation, therefore, implies continued violence towards enforced disintegration. Fragmentariness many times is associated with loss, absence and dislocation. Fragmentation in a broad sense relates to the action of splitting, the separation of the whole and even causing ‘the wound’.
Is therefore logical that artists that deal with issues of collective traumas decide to recreate enactments of fragmentation, dislocation and destruction will find the museum as an ideal repository. The historic museum is both the storehouse and the locus of transmission for a culture, a container for collective consciousness, a physical space of stored memory, a contact zone for contextualising recreations and enactments from and towards the past and present. All those functions and roles of the museum might be identified in Jonna Kina’s “Four Sculptures in Fifteen Pieces”, (2022) a short film shooted in 35 mm with a single horizontal slow panning movement starting with a museum conservator examining one of the sculptures and following with all the sculpture fragments lined on a museum table. The sculpture pieces are originally from four different classical marble sculptures by Amandus Adamson (1855- 1929) and August Weizenberg (1837-1921) two prominent Estonian artists who Kina has been studying their bodies of works since 2019.
The sculpture fragments are surviving pieces rescued from the ruins of an Art Museum of Estonia destroyed during the bombing of the city of Tallinn on 9 March 1944, the Soviet Air Forces started to bomb the Estonian capital, which, at the time, was occupied by Nazi Germany; is calculated that 600-700 civilians died and over 600 were wounded and some 20,000 people were left homeless. The March Bombing destroyed one-third of the Tallinn area, and dozens of similar raids against Estonian cities in the area that would later become part of the USSR, known as the Eastern Bloc, are seen today as evidence of the USSR’s ruthless strategy to destroy the morale of the Estonian society and pave the way for occupation and forced annexation.
Kina’s film is an ideal example of how contemporary artists can construct new interpretations by focusing on particular artworks in a museum collection to bring to life meditated visual narratives. Furthermore, in a museal environment, it explores the potential of historical artwork’s openness to enquiry and so forth to produce renewed lectures and new meanings. The artist’s fervent attention evokes a heightened sense of the fragmented historical narratives that those sculpture pieces hold. She is aware that the pieces are in a status of transitional form, they are not being exhibited, they are not in storage, and they are in a particular suspension state where they are subject to legitimation through practices or acts of attention, as aesthetic experience and method of inquiry theorized by Michelle Henning.
“Museums validate certain practices of attention and devalue others. In turn, these practices of attention validate the objects held in museums. Indeed, museum objects, in order to retain their value, must be repeatedly legitimated through acts of attention. Competing interpretations and value judgements within the museums and the disciplines re-evaluate and reinforce the canons of valued objects, devaluing some, newly valuing others, while leaving a relatively stable core of agreed value. In this way the value of museum objects and modes of attention mutually reinforce one another… Through appropriate acts of attention, the quality of an artwork supposedly reveals itself.”
In the film, Kina’s ‘practice of attention is a perfectly studied lineal mise-en-scène, matched with a spotless single shoot that might be perceived as a travel back in time, a subtle feeling of being drawn to the past and imagining how the broken pieces were rescued from the rubble after the bombing, or staying in the present to empathizing with the museum’s restorer enigma of which isolated part belongs to, —because at the end a fragment is visually on the move since one’s mind tend always in the mission of completing it—. Ultimately, when we are captivated by physical fragments of the past and what stays incomplete. If lack of unity becomes a paradoxical starting point, Friedrich Schlegel’s aphorism deems to be relevant: “Many works of the ancients have become fragments. Many works of the moderns are fragments at the time of their origin.”
– Ramiro Camelo, curator
Written, directed, edited by: Jonna Kina
Conservator: Helen Volber
Cinematography: Ville Piippo
Light Design: Aleksi Kraama
Conservation advisor: Kaisa-Piia Pedajas
Focus Puller: Shishir Bishankhe
Bullet dolly operator: Argo Kästik
Bullet dolly operator’s assistant: Ergo Treier
Foley sounds: Heikki Kossi / Studio H5
Sound design: Pietu Koskinen
Colorist: Petri Falkenberg / Grade one
Production assistant: Ieva Kabasinskaite
Post-production support: Timo Teräväinen
Post-production support: Haghefilm
Sculptures by: Amadus Adamson, August Weizenberg
Production assistance: Valge Kuup Studio
Equipment: Ikifilmi, Kinos Rentals, Fookus Pookus, Angel Films, Valofirma, High Voltage, Elokuvakonepaja
Commissioned by Lappeenranta Art Museum
in Collaboration with Art Museum of Estonia
Special Thanks: Tiiu Saadoja, Kersti Kuldna, Juta Kivimäe, Berit Teeäär, Marten Esko, Perttu Inkilä, Jan Ijäs
Supported by Jenny and Antti Wihuri Foundation, Arts Promotion Centre Finland, AVEK, Finnish Cultural Foundation