Artist Vladimir Chernyshev: "It’s important for me that installations remain accessible, autonomous and in some sense nobody’s"

VLADIMIR, IT LOOKS LIKE YOU’VE BEEN GIVING A LOT OF INTERVIEWS LATELY. I KNOW IT’S NOT EASY FOR MANY ARTISTS. HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THAT? ARE YOU EVEN A PUBLIC PERSON?

Every time somebody asks me this question, I answer that I don’t talk about art too often, implying the public talks or lectures firstly. I almost don’t have anything like that in my practice, but I try to respond to media inquiries. Such conversations usually happen in a natural live format with no special preparations.

WHY? YOU JUST DON’T LIKE TALKING ABOUT YOUR ART?

This may sound weird, but I don’t like to talk in general. It’s always more interesting for me to listen. Talking about my art means positioning myself as an author through the language, and it’s not an easy experience at all. It’s important for me that objects live and speak for themselves. I can draw the lines, and then I won’t get in the way. In a broad sense, the language is a reduction, a corridor. I’d like the pieces to be placed in the spaces of very different meanings, not in the familiar corridors.

DO YOU FIND THE VIEWERS’ INTERPRETATIONS OF YOUR WORKS INTERESTING THEN?

Yes, of course. Sometimes I think that I create such black holes that anyone can interpret the way they want. That’s why I enjoy hearing opinions when there’s an opportunity.

IT ALSO LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE HAVING A LOT OF DIFFERENT PROJECTS CURRENTLY, AND YOUR CAREER IS AT HIGH RIGHT NOW. DO YOU FEEL THAT YOU HAVE BECOME MORE POPULAR BY YOURSELF?

I have my own rhythm I’ve been living in for the last several years, and it’s not changing a lot: there’s a couple of major projects happening every year, while all other stuff is situational. I never take projects to do them in the background mode. If I hesitate, I don’t take them either. Most of the time I’m very slow and I think that not doing something matters more than doing. Regarding the attention, it’s difficult to say. I don’t interact with the viewers too much, it’s important for me to stay apart. I don’t even feel a raise in attention apart from receiving lots of social media mentions due to my LIME collaboration.

LET’S TALK ABOUT THIS — HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN PREPARING THIS COLLABORATION? ARE YOU HAPPY WITH THE RESULT?

We’ve been working on that collaboration for a year, and there’s been a lot of invisible work, while the exhibition and the collection release is just a result. The process itself contained many calls, checks, and coordinations in sync with each other. It was very slow work, maybe one of the most serene projects I have worked on, and all the arguments we had were solved very thoughtfully.

I am happy with this project, though there were some hesitations at first because I’ve never worked with such a huge brand before. It was crucial to find balance between a piece of clothes and an art statement. And I think we succeeded in that.

WHY DID YOU CHOOSE KIMONO AS A TYPE OF CLOTHES FOR THIS COLLABORATION?

Kimono is a thing that’s connected to discipline, sense of distance and balance. We didn’t want to just make some t-shirt or hoodie merch. Kimono is about a slow life approach, contemplation and attention to everyday life. All these principles matter in my constant workflow.

WE TALK A LOT ABOUT THE SLOW MODE OF EXISTENCE. BUT HOW DO YOU FEEL LIVING IN A RAPID MODERN WORLD?

It’s not an easy question. I think one of the reasons why I live and work in Nizhny Novgorod is my will to keep the slow rhythm of life. A more relatable recipe is a boat with an engine, in which you go to the water and everything becomes calmer. Moreover, all of my installations are located outside the city, in the woods. Such a context implies some certain unhurriedness.

I REALLY ADMIRE THIS BECAUSE NOT HURRYING IS SOMETHING I'M STILL LEARNING. YOU'VE TALKED IN OTHER INTERVIEWS THAT YOU GAVE UP THE "ABANDONED VILLAGES" PROJECT BECAUSE YOU REALIZED IT WAS A QUITE COMPLEX TOPIC. CAN YOU SHARE A LIFE HACK ON HOW TO MAKE SUCH DECISIONS AND BE ABLE TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT SOMETHING NEEDS TO BE GIVE UP?

I feel like I always work on correcting my mistakes. When you allow yourself to make mistakes, it gets much easier to accept that some certain strategy turned out to be a wrong one. For instance, I often work with wood at the studio, and I can work on creating an image for months, and then just erasing everything and starting from scratch. In general, creating something in the studio with your own hands in the 21st century, slowly and meticulously, means to demonstrate your own loss. It’s often pointless labor that leads to nothing. The same applies to printing etchings or long-term work on graphics. It’s more difficult with projects, but it turned out this exact way with the "Abandoned villages". I’m critical to a project-oriented style of life and don’t feel enthusiastic about metrics. If it doesn’t turn out, I just start anew.

WHILE YOU WERE SPEAKING, I REMEMBERED THAT WHEN I WAS A STUDENT, MY TEACHER, THE VORONEZH ARTIST NIKOLAI ALEXEEV, SAID THAT MAKING ART IS COOL BECAUSE YOU CAN MAKE MISTAKES, START OVER AND EXPERIMENT.

Yeah, I have to say not everything in life works this way!

I KNOW THAT BEFORE, IN ORDER TO SEE ALL YOUR SUBURBAN OBJECTS, ONE WOULD HAVE TO WRITE TO YOU AND ASK FOR COORDINATES, BUT RECENTLY YOU HAVE MADE A PAPER MAP WITH ALL THE POINTS. WHY DID YOU CHANGE THE APPROACH?

I like to think of a map as an artifact that a person can take with them. It’s something that will stay with you after the trip. It is printed on a risograph and gets dirty, like many of my other works on paper. In addition, the map shows lost drawings. How else can you mark in space what is no longer there, shift attention towards the life cycle of works? Their impermanence. Frankly, the map itself is not the most convenient, but it can still be used to navigate. The second important aspect is that the map can deliver a more personal experience and put me as an author outside the lines. I don’t want to become a tour guide since an unaided walk is a more suitable way to see the suburban works.

NOW THERE’S NEW OBJECT OF YOURS IN THE CONSTRUCTION PHASE — THE CASTLE. TELL A BIT ABOUT IT.

Yes, this year we’re building an installation that’s not only titled "The Castle”, but also IS the castle. It’s a wooden structure placed deep in the woods at the same Nizhny Novgorod location where all the other suburban installations are placed.

Shortly speaking, it’s a maze castle. There are a lot of narrow corridors, uncomfortable rooms and dead-ends, and some stairs also. The castle has double empty walls and suits perfectly for the insects living inside of them. During the construction, we noticed that there were wild foxes appearing, making their way under the first floor.

Getting ahead, I wouldn’t recommend visiting the place (joking). But some degree of cautiousness would definitely come handy. The castle is not a work about something — it's something itself. It’s a place where several contexts and themes important for me intersect. I wanted to design and organize an “otherworldly” space that could be perceived through incongruity or anachronism. It is something Other that functions not only as a conceptual work, but also as architecture that works affectively. Here we can talk about the categories of the uncanny or the unconscious in general.

For example, The Castle is a negative space. Because of the darkness and the poor ability to navigate the rooms and corridors of the installation, the boundaries of one's own body are perceived rather as a loss or synthesis with the maze: there are practically no windows in the castle and light barely penetrates through the cracks in the walls. The castle can be defined in many different ways. It is a fragment, a mechanism, a shelter, and a giant hotel for insects. And basically anything you want. A kind of "receptacle for multitudes". That is why the maze has no exit, returning the visitor back to the very beginning. It’s a non-narrative, cycled thing. I wouldn’t want to limit The Castle with one certain reading, same with everything I do.

One more important aspect lies in the fact that The Castle, as a material object, doesn’t belong to anyone and is not part of any arguments. As an art piece, it will never become a part of someone’s private property.

THE CASTLE IS NOT YET FINISHED?

We are planning to finish all the construction works by the end of the year. Now we have to install several additional internal partitions, stair railings, and paint the surface in a dark color.

Like other suburban installations, The Castle does not have a final version and will change under the influence of the environment.

I CAN'T HELP BUT ASKING, ARE COLLECTORS INTERESTED IN BUYING YOUR COUNTRY INSTALLATIONS? OR, IN PRINCIPLE, IS THIS NOT INCLUDED IN YOUR CONCEPT OF THE EQUAL ACCESS TO THESE WORKS FOR EVERYONE?

Yes, there have been some inquiries regarding the purchase of the «Bus stop», but it never led to anything. You have to understand that those are very specific things demanding a very different approach in legal and practical senses. It’s important for me to keep the installations equally accessible for everyone, autonomous and in some sense nobody’s.

At the same time, in the case of suburban installations, I usually resort to such "post-fundraising". First I build with my own funds, then I release small editions of etchings, silkscreens or prints. I think it’s another important format of communication with those who want to support the production and get something "special" for their collection. Plus, it’s a chance to keep the autonomy and continue doing what I like. To help pay for the construction of the Castle, I'm planning to release a castle pack that will include things like limited edition architectural plans for the labyrinth, a new "Suburban Practices" map, and more.

YOU RECENTLY HAD AN EXHIBITION IN DRESDEN, AND SOON IN LONDON. HOW DO THE VIEWERS THERE PERCEIVE YOUR ART? IS THE PERCEPTION DIFFERENT AT ALL?

My works are not attached to geography, they are perceived simply and universally. For example, in Dresden, on the occasion of the celebration of the 250th anniversary of Caspar David Friedrich throughout Germany, we touched upon the theory and philosophy of romanticism in a modern interpretation. This was the project “The Flame Devours My Every Step” in Kunstverein (curator Alesya Veremieva). Some of the graphic works shown at this exhibition were originally exhibited in the studio "Tikhaya" at the exhibition "Red River" in my native Nizhny Novgorod. Although initially, several years ago, I planned to show this series in a completely different museum abroad. On October 31, together with Artwin gallery, we are opening a project in London in the permanent exhibition space Frieze — No 9 Cork Street Gallery. The exhibition is called "Heavy Water". Apart from graphics and new works, we are going to showcase a documentation of the suburban installations.

This will be a point of intersection between studio and land art works (when precision is needed, I use the term "site-specific" instead of "land art", but that's a separate conversation) and a reflection on the theme of transformation and decay. In general, land art in the UK is a fairly common story, so I expect that I will have something to talk about with local viewers.

YOU SAID THAT IN ROMANTICISM YOU TRIED TO FIND SOMETHING RELEVANT TO US NOW. DID YOU SUCCEED?

Romanticism as a historical era is a thing of the past, while romanticism as a phenomenon is actively being rethought in philosophy departments in the modern academic environment. Such authors as Dalia Nassar, Frederick Beiser, Peter Osborne (all of whom are actively teaching at various universities) and many others write about this. In Russian, for example, there are cool reports from participants of the Stasis Center for Practical Philosophy at the European University.

This is a separate, very interesting topic; early romanticism reveals signs of conceptual art, different relationships with time and the subject of art. For example, thanks to romanticism, we can say that not only do we look at a work, but the work also looks at us, and in this sense we are dealing with a movement from anthropocentrism, reductionism and educational pathos towards Nature, ecology and, in general, force majeure circumstances.

But, in any case, my interest in different trends is very special and changeable. I try not to get stuck in one thing and find something that seems important to me depending on the specific context.

IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE UP BEYOND THE COMING EXHIBITION IN LONDON? SHOULD WE EXPECT NEW EXHIBITIONS OR PROJECTS FROM YOU?

I usually don't make strict plans longer than a year in advance, I always keep my finger on the pulse and focus on the situation. There are specific plans for 2025, but I haven't announced them anywhere yet. At the very least, I need to finish building The Castle.