When FDR, the biennial art project of the State of Upper Austria, commissioned me to do a series of six murals themed “Uninvited Guests” along Marchtrenk, I carefully shopped for benevolent walls. So I got this grainy-textured, worn-out façade at a crossroads in the very center of the town, which would become shelter for a work of particularly ephemeral character. Lit by the cars’ headlights by night, the scene depicted in the mural became vivid: For a fleeting moment, drivers could see a group of people, burdened with their personal effects, hiking across the village. Only a split second later, and they had already disappeared into the dark again. Technique: tape.
London-based contemporary art theorist Estere Kajema has written a beautiful essay about murals for Arterritory. I’m grateful that my work has been discussed and assessed among the works of Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Ai Weiwei, and Michael Craig-Martin.
There are two very important conclusions in this text. One is about my murals: “By putting images directly onto the walls, Lapschina is almost letting her figures grow free – dogs, magical sword-fighters, gnomes, and even flowers, mountains and trees. These red forms surround and occupy the space, and by doing so they somehow become the hosts, the owners, the ghosts who are attached to the architecture. The characters, which one might be fortunate enough to meet in the stairway of one of these buildings, seem to be participating in some unearthly and transformative performance, completely and utterly revolutionizing the space they are in.”
The other is about the qualities of walls in comparison with relocatable matter: “It is important to understand the crucial difference between a painting or a drawing on a wall, and one done on a piece of paper, canvas, cardboard, or any other surface that can be dismounted or relocated. A message that is conveyed on a wall automatically achieves a different status, even if it happens on a subconscious level. A space that is antipodal to a white cube is a story; it becomes a home, a shelter. A wall that has been transformed by the artist him- or herself is a story and extension of his or her studio work. A voice from beyond, a hint that comes directly from the creator. A thing to remember is that sometimes, walls can tell more than the audience expects them to.”
Read Estere Kajema’s essay here, in Arterritory.
I’ve been equipping a central London villa with a mural of considerable size. In fact, it is a multi-part drawing which meanders gently through the space. You are going to meet mountains, and people, and text, and even – in the salon – a giant.
It took me several white nights to draw this little soulmate. A commission by Rakvere Rohuaia Kindergarten and the Kilomeeter Skulptuuri art-in-public-spaces programme, the mural is about eighteen meters in width and seven meters in height.
It is a mosaic, it is a waymark, it is a tape painting, it is digital equipment – my piece for the Mdina Biennale, on the historic ground of Malta. When it catches sight of a smartphone, it comes to life, immerses visitors in an extramundane environment… To give it a try, go to see it on site: The mural is prominently located at the grand staircase of the Cathedral Museum, Mdina, Malta.
Murals tend to be huge, and artists like to do magnificent things. But not every patron of the arts has got these big walls. So I decided to develop murals which fit into c-suites and – even more important – into the private salon.
Today I want to share a new work which is private and public at the same time: “Untitled (No. 407)”. It’s a tape drawing commissioned by Arlberg Hospiz Hotel in Tyrol. To enjoy it for some nights, just ask for suite no. 407!
Dresden is celebrating the 8th edition of “Ostrale – Internationale Ausstellung zeitgenössischer Künste”, and I was asked to deliver an in situ work right at the entrance of this huge show at the old (and famous) slaugtherhouse. I did use tape again – red tape, to be precise.
The piece covers about 70 square meters. It shows a young lady, ornamental elements and a “writing on the wall” (which suggests that the artist might have vanished before completion). I could have called it “Selbstbildnis mit Auerhahn” (“Self portrait with grouse”), which would have been kind of correct. But I thought I should place emphasis on the text part. The display tag now says “Back on Tuesday”.