Lapin piha
Aine Art Museum, Tornio, Finland
13.12.2024 – 13.4.2025
PAINTING AS MYSTERY
Raisa Raekallio & Misha del Val in conversation with Amanda Hakoköngäs, curator of the exhibition
AMANDA: For me, the act of painting always seems like mystery or even like magic. The touch of a brush or a pen creating new worlds. What is happening in the act of painting?
RAISA: Painting is truly a mystery, something we often marvel at aloud in the studio. The mystery is strongly present when our own ideas and plans for the finished work give way, and the painting’s own will begin to emerge. This is a magnificent and mystical event, and it is certainly not something that can be commanded or dictated. Sometimes it takes quite a struggle before this state of flow begins to occur. The process of painting is never the same, and there is no ready-made formula for a successful painting.
MISHA: Thank you, it’s good to start with a trivial subject (laughs). Yep, making marks has something atavistic and magical, and something inherently human, about it. And maybe the way to go, in order not to spoil its mysterious nature, is to avoid talking head-on about it. Usually, the enterprise of trying to disclose and leave the mystery out in the open –where it doesn’t belong– is bound to end up in a puddle of quicksand.
Inhabiting the mystery, and coming up with original strategies, poetic strategies, evocative strategies to honour that mystery is, I reckon, one of the functions of the practice of painting and probably the very reason why we bother to go to the studio every morning. That’s what, when successful, a painted image is: an evocation and a celebration of the Mystery.
AMANDA: When I imagine you two working there in Kittilä in your studio, I imagine you are somehow dancing around the canvas. How is it to paint together and to share the creative process with another person?
MISHA: Have you ever noticed that in a museum or a gallery, when you look at works of art with different people you see different things, you open up to different layers of perception and sensitivity? The company we are in makes us see different things, it makes us perceive differently. So, the same happens when painting with someone else. Painting with Raisa allows me to tap into parts of myself I would not have access to in different circumstances. Painting with her makes me a kind of entity that I couldn’t be otherwise. It is true to say that we make paintings none of us could have ever dreamt of doing individually.
RAISA: And we have many ways of painting together. Often, we have a plan that we follow to a certain point, after which the painting itself begins to show the way. When working on a larger painting with enough space, we can paint simultaneously, improvising a lot, each following our own impulses, while listening to each other and the messages from the painting. An inner knowing comes and tells us which colour to choose and mix, how to apply it, whether to use a particular brush or if I should spread the paint on the canvas with my fingers. Sometimes, we dart around each other, adding paint here and there, almost like dancing. It’s a bit like a jazz jam session. Painting is, in many ways, about listening and responding.
At other times, we work on pieces alternately, with only one of us in the studio at a time. Later, the other picks up where the first one left off. Or we work on separate pieces simultaneously in the same space. At times, we pause, comment, and discuss what’s happening on the canvas. Or we remain silent and progress through the painting like gliding on a ski trail.
MISHA: And sharing the creative process has many advantages! For one thing, we can do more work in less time because it is two of us. It feels great when you are washing dishes at home, and you know that the painting is going forward in the studio without you being there. Of course, that takes a considerable amount of trust.
Raisa Raekallio & Misha del Val in conversation with Amanda Hakoköngäs, curator of the exhibition
AMANDA: For me, the act of painting always seems like mystery or even like magic. The touch of a brush or a pen creating new worlds. What is happening in the act of painting?
RAISA: Painting is truly a mystery, something we often marvel at aloud in the studio. The mystery is strongly present when our own ideas and plans for the finished work give way, and the painting’s own will begin to emerge. This is a magnificent and mystical event, and it is certainly not something that can be commanded or dictated. Sometimes it takes quite a struggle before this state of flow begins to occur. The process of painting is never the same, and there is no ready-made formula for a successful painting.
MISHA: Thank you, it’s good to start with a trivial subject (laughs). Yep, making marks has something atavistic and magical, and something inherently human, about it. And maybe the way to go, in order not to spoil its mysterious nature, is to avoid talking head-on about it. Usually, the enterprise of trying to disclose and leave the mystery out in the open –where it doesn’t belong– is bound to end up in a puddle of quicksand.
Inhabiting the mystery, and coming up with original strategies, poetic strategies, evocative strategies to honour that mystery is, I reckon, one of the functions of the practice of painting and probably the very reason why we bother to go to the studio every morning. That’s what, when successful, a painted image is: an evocation and a celebration of the Mystery.
AMANDA: When I imagine you two working there in Kittilä in your studio, I imagine you are somehow dancing around the canvas. How is it to paint together and to share the creative process with another person?
MISHA: Have you ever noticed that in a museum or a gallery, when you look at works of art with different people you see different things, you open up to different layers of perception and sensitivity? The company we are in makes us see different things, it makes us perceive differently. So, the same happens when painting with someone else. Painting with Raisa allows me to tap into parts of myself I would not have access to in different circumstances. Painting with her makes me a kind of entity that I couldn’t be otherwise. It is true to say that we make paintings none of us could have ever dreamt of doing individually.
RAISA: And we have many ways of painting together. Often, we have a plan that we follow to a certain point, after which the painting itself begins to show the way. When working on a larger painting with enough space, we can paint simultaneously, improvising a lot, each following our own impulses, while listening to each other and the messages from the painting. An inner knowing comes and tells us which colour to choose and mix, how to apply it, whether to use a particular brush or if I should spread the paint on the canvas with my fingers. Sometimes, we dart around each other, adding paint here and there, almost like dancing. It’s a bit like a jazz jam session. Painting is, in many ways, about listening and responding.
At other times, we work on pieces alternately, with only one of us in the studio at a time. Later, the other picks up where the first one left off. Or we work on separate pieces simultaneously in the same space. At times, we pause, comment, and discuss what’s happening on the canvas. Or we remain silent and progress through the painting like gliding on a ski trail.
MISHA: And sharing the creative process has many advantages! For one thing, we can do more work in less time because it is two of us. It feels great when you are washing dishes at home, and you know that the painting is going forward in the studio without you being there. Of course, that takes a considerable amount of trust.
AMANDA: What is the space you are creating in your work? Or more specifically, what is the space you are painting in this Lapin piha exhibition? Where did this space come from? When looking at your earlier works, I somehow feel that there is some shared space already which continues with the new Lapin piha exhibition works. It is hard to describe what it is, but I feel there are several (often paradoxical) feelings inside your works. And that feels really interesting and good.
MISHA: We have done paintings where the characters gather in a laavu, or a sauna, or a cabin, or a forest, spaces that are familiar to us. Ours is a highly subjective take on the landscape. We all perceive the landscape differently, and so we capitalise on those personal interactions, on the intimate perceptions and connections we have with the landscape. In Lapin piha, sure, you see our surrounding landscapes with traces of human activity, which are so pictorial — things being stored, forgotten, abandoned — they might even look hilarious at times.
RAISA: I indeed draw a great deal of inspiration from the landscapes of my childhood. I’ve also travelled the world and lived in other parts of Finland, as well as abroad for stretches, before moving back to Lapland. The northern landscape has always been incredibly important and dear to me — a landscape of the soul. Living surrounded by nature, amidst the trees, the landscape naturally becomes part of our paintings.
Misha’s way of observing the landscapes of Lapland has given me a new perspective on how to see the environment and experience the seasons. Especially the in-between seasons, not particularly appreciated by many, by the way. Thickets, willow groves, and all kinds of shrubbery have started to appear more interesting, their grey and brownish tones, during the times before snow arrives, and in May just after it melts.
MISHA: Interesting you (Amanda) mention the word paradox, because it is really important and fertile ground for us. I believe the truth to be always ultimately clear and paradoxical. It is through paradox that one can gently hold different, and apparently divergent aspects of reality at once. Lack of paradoxical intelligence may lead to simplistic, one-sided truths, which we call beliefs. When a dose of paradox is present, dichotomies tend to fall apart and life activates.
In the case of Lapin piha, I don’t think we are just trying to make value statements within the old antithesis between built-up, human landscape vs. the natural, pure scenery, even though both elements are distinctively present. There are artists doing much-needed and very elegant work about it already. Rather, we are maybe expressing here our sympathy –our tenderness even– for our human clumsiness, alongside a profound devotion we feel for the northern nature. For us, these works might be a way to put forward a larger vision of Nature, one that embraces and transcends that antithesis.
MISHA: We have done paintings where the characters gather in a laavu, or a sauna, or a cabin, or a forest, spaces that are familiar to us. Ours is a highly subjective take on the landscape. We all perceive the landscape differently, and so we capitalise on those personal interactions, on the intimate perceptions and connections we have with the landscape. In Lapin piha, sure, you see our surrounding landscapes with traces of human activity, which are so pictorial — things being stored, forgotten, abandoned — they might even look hilarious at times.
RAISA: I indeed draw a great deal of inspiration from the landscapes of my childhood. I’ve also travelled the world and lived in other parts of Finland, as well as abroad for stretches, before moving back to Lapland. The northern landscape has always been incredibly important and dear to me — a landscape of the soul. Living surrounded by nature, amidst the trees, the landscape naturally becomes part of our paintings.
Misha’s way of observing the landscapes of Lapland has given me a new perspective on how to see the environment and experience the seasons. Especially the in-between seasons, not particularly appreciated by many, by the way. Thickets, willow groves, and all kinds of shrubbery have started to appear more interesting, their grey and brownish tones, during the times before snow arrives, and in May just after it melts.
MISHA: Interesting you (Amanda) mention the word paradox, because it is really important and fertile ground for us. I believe the truth to be always ultimately clear and paradoxical. It is through paradox that one can gently hold different, and apparently divergent aspects of reality at once. Lack of paradoxical intelligence may lead to simplistic, one-sided truths, which we call beliefs. When a dose of paradox is present, dichotomies tend to fall apart and life activates.
In the case of Lapin piha, I don’t think we are just trying to make value statements within the old antithesis between built-up, human landscape vs. the natural, pure scenery, even though both elements are distinctively present. There are artists doing much-needed and very elegant work about it already. Rather, we are maybe expressing here our sympathy –our tenderness even– for our human clumsiness, alongside a profound devotion we feel for the northern nature. For us, these works might be a way to put forward a larger vision of Nature, one that embraces and transcends that antithesis.
AMANDA: I read this book “Painting Beyond Itself” which I had with me in Kittilä and artist Julie Mehretu wrote there about painting “Improvisation can be a radical possibility. Painting as performative time” and “The Painting is performance (in making and seeing/looking)”. I really liked the notion of improvisation, which I guess is also a big part of your work? Do you see painting partly as a performance? For me looking at a painting is a totally different process than looking at a performance.
MISHA: I have been giving some thought to this recently. At the beginning, it is important for us to have an idea, an idea exuding vitality, which sets the general orientation of the project, of the painting. And then, when you are actually working on it, you can be flexible and open to different directions, listen to what the moment is asking, where lies the clearest resonance and vitality.
So you cannot do without an idea, but in a way, it’s just the spark to get us going. The real substance crops up in the making. There is, of course, a push and pull, and lots of trial and error involved. And so improvisation, being awake to the impulse of the moment, plays a major part.
I have been, for a long time, interested in painting with an audience. I think the act of painting, when it flows, when it goes well (which is not all the time!) is soo beautiful. It would be so alluring just to watch, just to witness. I hope I, or we, will have some opportunity to do that in the near future. In Australia, I have worked with musicians, painting while they played music. It was fun and full-on.
The thing with painting is that it usually is a delayed means of communication. You do your thing there in the sanctuary of your studio, mostly alone, and the transmission happens –if it happens– later on, when someone takes the painting in. It’s like listening to a recorded studio album, which can also be fantastic, by all means. However, I’d love to have both: the studio album and the live gig.
RAISA: For me, words like spaciousness, joy, connectedness with what is, presence, state of flow, come forth when talking about improvising. It is a force that I am very much drawn to in my life, I think since I was a little girl. Maybe it got a bit lost on the way at some point in the midst of my adult life. Thank God I found painting again! I have a strong motivation and yearning to reconnect with that playful, free energy. By painting, it is possible to summon that force and get in touch with the natural intelligence that lurks in all of us, and shines through us. Painting together with another person that you trust can also give you access to that relaxed, joyous space.
AMANDA: Finally, how is it to be a contemporary artist based in Lapland in 2024?
MISHA: It is great! I think it is really good. We are very happy to be part of the contemporary art scene in Lapland. I think Raisa is very proud of coming from Lapland, and that becomes contagious. She always makes sure that people understand we are coming from Lapland (laughs). There are really interesting things going on here in the north, for instance a sense of community shaped by long distances and a commanding presence of nature, and the mutual interest and collaborations with other northern areas, in particular northern Sweden and northern Norway.
This is all quite recent to us. It was only in 2019 that we became part of the Artist’s Association of Lapland, and almost immediately became members of its Board, where I have been involved since. That’s when we started to meet people in Rovaniemi and other parts of Lapland. Before that, the five first years I was here, we were practically on our own, doing our thing in Kittilä.
RAISA: The artist community in Lapland is very important to us—our colleagues, friends—and so it is its nature. Just knowing that our colleagues are there is a big thing. It feels like Lapland is the place to be; there are opportunities for collaboration, plenty of energy, peace for creating, and the ever-present natural scenery with its forests, fields, rivers and fells. For us, Lapland is also a great springboard for reaching international audiences. Nowadays, it’s quite easy to build connections online. Being this far north doesn’t mean one is missing out—quite the opposite.
MISHA: I have been giving some thought to this recently. At the beginning, it is important for us to have an idea, an idea exuding vitality, which sets the general orientation of the project, of the painting. And then, when you are actually working on it, you can be flexible and open to different directions, listen to what the moment is asking, where lies the clearest resonance and vitality.
So you cannot do without an idea, but in a way, it’s just the spark to get us going. The real substance crops up in the making. There is, of course, a push and pull, and lots of trial and error involved. And so improvisation, being awake to the impulse of the moment, plays a major part.
I have been, for a long time, interested in painting with an audience. I think the act of painting, when it flows, when it goes well (which is not all the time!) is soo beautiful. It would be so alluring just to watch, just to witness. I hope I, or we, will have some opportunity to do that in the near future. In Australia, I have worked with musicians, painting while they played music. It was fun and full-on.
The thing with painting is that it usually is a delayed means of communication. You do your thing there in the sanctuary of your studio, mostly alone, and the transmission happens –if it happens– later on, when someone takes the painting in. It’s like listening to a recorded studio album, which can also be fantastic, by all means. However, I’d love to have both: the studio album and the live gig.
RAISA: For me, words like spaciousness, joy, connectedness with what is, presence, state of flow, come forth when talking about improvising. It is a force that I am very much drawn to in my life, I think since I was a little girl. Maybe it got a bit lost on the way at some point in the midst of my adult life. Thank God I found painting again! I have a strong motivation and yearning to reconnect with that playful, free energy. By painting, it is possible to summon that force and get in touch with the natural intelligence that lurks in all of us, and shines through us. Painting together with another person that you trust can also give you access to that relaxed, joyous space.
AMANDA: Finally, how is it to be a contemporary artist based in Lapland in 2024?
MISHA: It is great! I think it is really good. We are very happy to be part of the contemporary art scene in Lapland. I think Raisa is very proud of coming from Lapland, and that becomes contagious. She always makes sure that people understand we are coming from Lapland (laughs). There are really interesting things going on here in the north, for instance a sense of community shaped by long distances and a commanding presence of nature, and the mutual interest and collaborations with other northern areas, in particular northern Sweden and northern Norway.
This is all quite recent to us. It was only in 2019 that we became part of the Artist’s Association of Lapland, and almost immediately became members of its Board, where I have been involved since. That’s when we started to meet people in Rovaniemi and other parts of Lapland. Before that, the five first years I was here, we were practically on our own, doing our thing in Kittilä.
RAISA: The artist community in Lapland is very important to us—our colleagues, friends—and so it is its nature. Just knowing that our colleagues are there is a big thing. It feels like Lapland is the place to be; there are opportunities for collaboration, plenty of energy, peace for creating, and the ever-present natural scenery with its forests, fields, rivers and fells. For us, Lapland is also a great springboard for reaching international audiences. Nowadays, it’s quite easy to build connections online. Being this far north doesn’t mean one is missing out—quite the opposite.
Raisa Raekallio & Misha del Val, 'Beyond', oil on linen, 240 x 300 cm. 2024 Photo: Joel Kumpulainen
Raisa Raekallio & Misha del Val, 'Salameno', oil on linen, 175 x 220 cm.2024 Photo: RR + MdV
Views of Lapin piha at the Aine Art Museum Photos: MdV
Raisa Raekallio & Misha del Val, 'Salameno', oil on linen, 175 x 220 cm.2024 Photo: RR + MdV
Views of Lapin piha at the Aine Art Museum Photos: MdV