Theft of meaning is a process where one is both a robber and a victim at the same time. Borrowed
fragments and pieces are piled together and new meanings, connections and unexpected combinations
emerge. Still, no matter how carefully one hides the traces of the crime, a certain familiarity, recognizability
and similarity with the original sources will always shine through. In this way, the thief of meaning robs
himself of other, potentially existing alternatives to ambiguity, surrendering himself to the whims of
interpreters, living someone else’s ideas.
Edgar: The starting point for the paintings are photographs taken in the last decade. These images are
connected by a certain personal significance, which seems to require a truthful approach. Yet, I cut their
compositions and paste to them new elements. Will images and memories gain new meaning or become
visual noise to complement the humanity’s infinite image bank?
Anni: Creative burnout as a rinse cycle in the laundry room of ideas. The “Steal Like an Artist”-style hoarding
of thoughts has filled my head with alluring but crass aesthetic, visual trinkets which, against the
background of the catastrophic state of the world, need to be disposed of in a so called “quick and
profitable” way. Saturation of mental liminality. The juxtaposition of internal and external dread through a
double bluff.
Indrek: Fake nostalgia for times and places one has never lived in. A mosaic of books read, old photos,
movies and music forms into something that seems to have been real, but is now forever gone. All that is
left of the stolen fragments is a monochrome longing and patina of fading.
The exhibition is open until September 17
