It is worth creating art even in these difficult times.

We disembark on the island. After an ecological catastrophe, it is not clear whether there is any life left on it. The calm voice of the biologist guides us through different parts of the island. This scientific expedition, which looks for apocalyptic signs, also considers life after an ecological disaster, and asks the listener, so what remains? How to be and act in such an event? What do we do after a disaster? These questions are asked in the audio piece ‘You disassemble and reassemble me again’, and it is one of the worlds created by the interdisciplinary artist Rūta Putramentaitė (b. 1989), which allows us to experience a possible scenario in the future. Using sculptural objects, writing, audio and performance, the artist invites observers to think and rethink the current times, mankind’s place in the world, ecological themes, and the issue of climate change, which is challenging the status quo. Her sculptural objects, created by combining rubbish and organic materials, depict a distant future where unseen species of flora thrive in the remnants of our civilisation. What does it mean to be human in the 21st century? How to create in the Anthropocene? How do ecological disasters and constant change affect us? The artist questions the anthropocentric understanding of the world, and looks for alternative ways to understand and experience it.

Rūta Putramentaitė is from Vilnius in Lithuania. She studied at Middlesex University in the United Kingdom, where she obtained a BA in photography. Later, she studied for a BA and an MA in sculpture at the Academy of Arts, Architecture and Design in Prague. She participates in residencies and biennials, and contributes to the implementation and planning of artistic events, symposiums and happenings. Rūta is a co-curator of the Divoká Šárka art festival, and the annual forest symposium More-Than-Human Curiousness, created together with Les-Woods. She lives and works in Prague in the Czech Republic.

Agnė Sadauskaitė: This year you will be a participant in Manifesta 15, the European Nomadic Biennial, taking place in Barcelona. Which of your works are presented to visitors?

Rūta Putramentaitė: The biennale presents works that were created a long time ago, and some that were created exclusively for this event. I was contacted by one of Manifesta’s curators, who had already selected one of my works entitled Home No 1. I lent it for the entire period of the biennale. The biennale’s main team is based in Amsterdam, but the event is organised in a different European city each time, with a local curatorial and production team. In this way, when travelling to Manifesta, visitors can not only get acquainted with the artworks, but also find interesting places they would not normally discover. My sculpture is in Casa Gomis, a Modernist villa in a national park, which has a distinctly unique style. There will be other works in the villa. I am very happy that the biennale chose to show my work. For me, this is more proof that the topics I research are relevant; it gives me meaning to continue creating.

AS: When talking about recognition, at the beginning of 2024 you were awarded the Emerging Sculptor Award by the Sculptor Network. Congratulations! What do awards and ratings mean to you?

RP: This is quite a difficult question. Firstly, I do not like to enter all awards. It is important to me who finances the competition and who are the organisers. I would certainly not accept recognition from those who are engaged in wasting natural resources, while by supporting artists they cover up their ‘dirty’ activities or want to improve their image in the eyes of the public. Sometimes, of course, it is very difficult to choose, because many artists are in a rather vulnerable position, and companies have a lot of capital and can manipulate it. I have a source of income independent from my art, so I have the freedom to choose, and I don’t participate in many competitions. The Sculpture Network competition is funded by a gardening firm, and I was not against participating in it. The members of Sculpture Network are artists, curators and theorists of the older generation, and I was very pleased that my work reached them and was relevant to them.

AS: Did you notice more interest in your work after winning this award?

RP: Yes. There are many artists in the Czech Republic who are content creating contemporary art within the country, because there are many institutions to collaborate with. I would like to work both in Lithuania and in other European countries, because collaborating with other people brings more perspectives. Specifically, after this award, I was invited to the Manifesta Biennale.

AS: I assume that after participating in the Manifesta 15, a snowball effect may occur, and we might soon see some of your works in other countries as well. However, it is interesting to hear your story: born and raised in Vilnius, you studied in the United Kingdom, and later you moved to the Czech Republic and continued your studies in Prague.

RP: I was looking for where I can create art. In Vilnius, I attended an art class at the M.K. Čiurlionis School of the Arts. I studied artistic visual practices for eight years. I knew I wanted to be an artist, but I didn’t know which path to choose. I tried photography, and got into photography and media studies at Vilnius Academy of Art. However, I dropped out and enrolled in photography at Middlesex University. After a while, I realised that I no longer found creativity and inspiration in this medium. I did not feel liberated. I became interested in creating sculptural objects. At the same time, I ended up in Prague completely by accident and spent a couple of weeks there. I really liked it. The city is much smaller and more beautiful than London, but at the same time I found a large and active contemporary art community. I liked the atmosphere, the culture, and soon decided to move there. In Prague, not only is the artistic scene active, but at the same time, everyone is more involved in maintaining personal relationships than, say, in London, where they do not find the time or interest, and keep a greater distance. Here I feel I have found like-minded artists, friends, and it has turned out that I have more opportunities for creativity than in London. I did not want to go to Vilnius at that time for several reasons. Eventually, I realised that I am more comfortable living elsewhere as a Lithuanian than in Lithuania as a person who left and went back to live there again.

Rūta Putramentaitė. here all is distance there it was breath. pieces of garbage, paper mache, soil, sugar, bioplastic, wood, bones. photo Jan Kolský. 2023.

AS: It seems you have found a new home in Prague.

RP: I am not Czech, and never will be. I am more a person of the world, and my identity is not tied to one place. This gives me more freedom.

AS: This September, after completing a BA degree, you will continue MA studies at the Academy of Arts, Architecture and Design (UMPRUM) in Prague. Tell us more about that.

RP: It’s good to go back to university at an older age. I didn’t expect it to be so enjoyable to learn. Studies are open to needs, desires, topics and various media. Art subjects are taught by artists, theoreticians and curators who are active in the art field in the Czech Republic, so it’s a close connection with professionals, who notice you and invite you to collaborate, and who know about current affairs and problems. In my previous studies abroad, there was a lack of that. The study programme I chose is also focused on ecological problems, the relationship with nature, topics which are very close to me. I am also thinking about doctoral studies in the future.

AS: The topic of the climate crisis is inseparable from change, constant transformation. After getting acquainted with your work, it becomes obvious that the topic of change is very close to you. In your work, you explore the opposition between nature and civilisation (as well as collisions), the effects of human activity on the planet. Mariana Serranova, a curator with the Jelení Gallery, described your work as fragmentary metaphors for the environment, reflecting the indestructibility of human activity. In your work you seek answers to the question what does it mean to live in an anthropocentric era and to be a person in the 21st century? What research methods do you use for this? What answers or clues have you already found to this question?

RP: There are many ways to answer. I am interested in mine and overall human identity in this period. I don’t agree with the dominant cultural narrative that presents humans as opposites: the human is not nature, the human is not woman, black, queer, and so on. These topics are relevant to me, but ecological issues and climate change affect me most. I feel sorry for how nature is being exploited; at the same time, I see apocalyptic scenarios that will befall us as a civilisation. I read about it whenever possible. I am especially keen on eco-fiction and eco-horror genres of literature dealing with this topic. I look at and explore our culture’s closed view of reality as a binary opposition that sees the human as an independent subject, ruler, conqueror, standing in opposition to nature, animals, birds, forests, and other living worlds, which are presented as objects, inert, passive and only to satisfy human desires. I don’t agree with that. The description that formed about the person in Enlightenment, Humanism and Modernism philosophy is too narrow, and limits me as a person. It narrows the relationship with the world and with nature. A consequence of this is fundamental problems of climate change that will affect humanity, and which, of course, are already changing the world.

It concerns me because I don’t want to live through an apocalypse; but at the same time I try to accept it and resist the widespread view of nature. In nature I look for an active subject, a creator, a speaker. The Anthropocene, by the way, is the name of a new geological era, which refers to humanity as such a strong force that it changes the structure and the surface of the Earth to such a point that it will be recognised as a separate geological layer in the history of the Earth.

Creativity also works as a therapeutic area. After all, I see how complicated everything is. I notice the meaninglessness or smallness of individual actions, as well as the fact that systemic changes take time, they happen slowly, or sometimes they don’t happen at all. Due to these thoughts and hopelessness, I also became depressed; but in the end I turned it into action, creation. I give space to my feelings, let myself live and express emotions; art helps me. I use art as a way to learn about the world through the various topics I explore, while also changing my relationship with the world. In essence, art has become a method of survival, a creative force that has also moved into my personal life, encouraging activities that do not kill, but create life. It comes with the knowledge that what I can change is limited, but I do it anyway.

AS: It seems inevitable that being a sculptor and an interdisciplinary artist in the 21st century, working on these topics, means facing (inner) debates about the meaning of creation, life, and the importance of change, as well as the complex emotions that come together with these questions.

RP: Yes. If I can’t create, I feel the need to do it. I had to ask myself, does making art make sense these days when there are so many problems? After deep experiences and depression came the answer that it does make sense. I just love to create, and through my passion I can combine my concern for certain things in the world. It makes sense to create art in this day and age. I would like to make more of an impact on a political level, because in the ecological discourse cultural influence is more on a diplomatic level and often does not bring actual changes. In the long-run, culture as a process can introduce and initiate changes (and it seems to me that this is happening, there are many cultural institutions that run programmes related to ecological issues), but it is a very slow process. At the same time, art can speak much more freely and widely than politics, that is its power and strength. At the same time, I try not only to create sculptures, but to explore themes that are important to me and to find other means to express them. I use audio and writing, and organise several artistic events exploring these themes. I am looking for like-minded people with whom I can talk about topics that are important to us and support each other so that it makes sense. It is interesting to grow with them.

AS: When did you realise that you wanted to create on the topic of climate change? When did this theme become the main focus of your work?

RP: I became interested in this topic after attending a contemporary art festival in Prague in 2016. It explored climate warming and other ecological issues. I became very interested in the subject, and quickly sensed the problematic through the artworks. It all touched me personally. I also attended a lecture by the art theorist and curator T.J. Demos. After that, I started reading his books and watching lectures. He talks about art from a political perspective, and uses art to develop ecological issues.

T.J. Demos’ book Decolonizing Nature: Contemporary Art and the Politics of Ecology completely stunned me. It seemed like new channels had opened. I began to observe nature much more, and especially from the position of a city dweller. It’s an aspect of reality that I haven’t had much connection with before. I created a relationship with the natural world through logical thinking, and then through art and the senses. I completely jumped into this topic, strong emotions were boiling, and works began to be created from it, because creativity has been the tool I have been using all my life. I started creating sculptures, and later pieces of writing, and organising performances.

AS: Are there other topics that have the same importance to you as the climate?

RP: For me, this is the most important topic, and it seems it is endless. I am dependent on the planet, and the planet is dependent on me to a certain extent. Many other topics arise from this. I explore the subjectivity of nature, the political aspects, and the consequences of this not only for me. I look for a personal relationship with that non-human being. I am very interested in getting out of human centricity. I try to look for another point of view, a different understanding of people. I am interested in positions other than those of a person: a sparrow or a sunflower, trying to understand their wishes, positions and aspirations. Through it I learn, I feel that my consciousness is expanding.

AS: Perhaps one of your dreams would be to talk to the world of flora and fauna.

RP: I am looking for that common language. The process is possible to a certain degree.

AS: This topic has been extremely relevant to you for eight years. Has it added to your personal life, and maybe even gone in a completely different direction to what you thought?

It really did. I don’t know how it came so naturally. Before, when working with photography, I explored aesthetic themes and forms, but I wasn’t emotionally involved in the media. Sculptures and objects were the beginning of thinking about ecology, and at the same time helped me to survive and navigate political and social problems. Now I view and experience my work completely differently. I don’t use photography as a form of art. I haven’t found a way to express myself through it.

AS: Sculpture is one of the main media you use. What ideas do you base your sculptures on?

RP: When making sculptures, I use a formal juxtaposition of two different types of aesthetic elements. One part consists of industrially extracted mass-produced items that I use and recycle. I’m interested in creating objects using rubbish. Even if the materials originally come from the natural landscape, after being processed and thrown out as waste, these objects do not easily decompose into the same landscape. For some, such as plastics, it will take up to a thousand years. When I think about that length of time, I imagine a world that neither we nor many generations after us will see, but these objects will witness it. Another type of element is often made by me and is easily degradable material such as paper, soil, kombucha skin, bioplastics and bones. I grow these materials on garbage in such a way that they begin to make a resemblance to unseen types of flora. This flora uses garbage as an architecture to build its living quarters. It thrives in these once man-made structures.

Together, these two types of elements form an inseparable, intertwined living organism that helps us see the future world I imagine. These are the ruins of human civilisation in the distant future, on which flora of an unseen form grows. The aspects that are important for me in this work are: different time scales, the human lifetime compared to geological time; the natural/cultural landscape, both kinds intertwined; the de-centring of the human perspective and bringing non-human perspectives into the imagination.

AS: Before preparing for the interview, I wanted to introduce you as a sculptor, but in the long-run as an interdisciplinary artist. You also work in writing, performance and audio. I recently listened to the audio ‘You disassemble and reassemble me again’ created by you and Jonáš Richter. It features a fictional story about a biologist exploring an island after an ecological disaster. When did you incorporate all these areas into your creative work?

RP: I read a lot, and I want to remix what I read and learn. I also write about the topics that I explore in my sculptural installations, audio and performances, but in a different form. Textual creations are more like narratives. Sculptures are too, in a sense; they are just more like a certain specific situation that has already appeared after the narrative. Let’s say in this audio that you mentioned, the listeners travel along with the story, and observe it, it’s a different way of thinking when talking about the same topics.

AS: You collaborate with other artists, both in exhibition spaces and when creating audio or texts together. You mentioned that you have found many like-minded people in Prague. What do these collaborations give you?

RP: Collaborations are important to me, because it is usually quite difficult to build relationships with people. I am quite a reserved person, but with the help of art it is much easier to do this. It’s fulfilling for me. I’m with people who are close to me, and it’s a very nice feeling. Also, we learn to create on those topics together and to think about them together. Not only creativity, but also problem-solving, changing the way we think, and methods; we are all interested in how to change our thinking as people; first, of course, our own, and then society.

AS: You mentioned that summer in the Czech Republic is quiet and slow, but I know that there was a symposium recently. What projects are you working on at the moment?

RP: For the fifth year in July, we are co-hosting a three-day interdisciplinary symposium at Les-Woods exploring the relationship between humanity and nature. Scientists, theorists, artists and researchers are invited to join. There are interventions, performances, lectures, readings, and in the evenings a community meeting around a bonfire and other activities. We are holding the symposium in a forest, national park territory, belonging to one of the curators. It’s always an interesting experience for me, because I’m dealing with various dilemmas when curating this event, choosing themes, forms, and everything else. This is a project close to my heart, a pleasant experience, when we spend our days in the forest and attend various workshops.

There is another event called Divoká Šárka, which takes place in a nature reserve near Prague. We’ve also been holding multi-day gatherings there for five years now, where we talk about this area, and talk about it as a person. Each year we focus on a different aspect of that ‘person’. This year we are running three days of events that focus on the transformation of our bodies through the food we eat. In this sanctuary there used to be allotment gardens, so many plum, apple and other fruit trees still survive from those times. Each day of our event will be about interweaving aspects of the material world and human culture, what we can get that is edible from the reserve, and that will be our material relationship with the reserve. Our goal is to find another affective, emotional means to create a relationship between us and Šárka. There will also be local fermentation workshops and medicinal plant searches, and we will listen to a lecture about picking goodies in the city, after which we will ferment and cook. After around a month, we will gather to taste and eat them, and there will be a performance and a lecture accompanying the event.

AS: It sounds like an art retreat, not just a symposium. You also mentioned that you will present your sculptures in Brno in the autumn: this will be the best opportunity to see your work in the Czech Republic.

RP: In the autumn, Brno will host a large exhibition, the main topic of preparation for a long-term critical situation, social and climate change, but in the most diverse aspects. It can be instructions, works that thematicise the emergency state in which we already are. I will create sculptures combining them with audio text. Some of the sculptures have cocoons that will integrate human voice recordings, speaking metaphorically about the heating of the air, the rise in heat, the burning of culture, and the decline in the economy because of over-productivity. I will present this as a scenario of the past: in my installation we will see the remaining ruins covered with new life. I will talk about what happened, how people tried to adapt, topics I usually talk about in my work.

Interviu published in echogonewrong

Pic: Rūta Putramentaitė