Beata Stankiewicz. Natural Born Artists Interview with the artist

A seated contemplative Jan Matejko greets the visitor upon entry at Bunkier Sztuki Gallery of Contemporary Art in Kraków, followed by multifaceted depictions of not just iconic artists and their studios, but of artists we may never know through the representation of empty workspaces. Polish painter, photographer, filmmaker and co-director of Flat23 art gallery Beata Stankiewicz captures the artist’s presence through both their absence and painterly re-interpretation with her exhibition entitled ‘Natural Born Artists’, on view through March 5, 2023.

I had the opportunity to discuss the exhibition and work further with Stankiewicz as well as learn more about the context of her exhibited work, her artistic process and inspirations.

Joanna Pottle: In a few words, can you describe your artistic process? How do you select the themes, subjects and concepts and your process in visualising those ideas on canvas?

Beata Staniewicz: The themes always come on their own. I never struggle to search for or invent them. But the process of thinking about how to paint something is long.

I work on a series basis. I work on them for many years, and I return to some of the series while others seem to have been exploited. The most important series are Empty Rooms, Creative Work House and Workplace. I have been working on them for the longest amount of time, thinking about them and returning to them most often.

JP: How do you interpret the absence of the artist in your abandoned studio series ‘Empty Rooms (2012-2022) — what does this say about the role of the artist and of the viewer?

BS: There is a special way to refer to the issue. In fact, every painting is a story about a human being. An empty room can tell a lot about its owner. An artist’s atelier is a particularly attractive place, and not only to me as a painter, I think. Every workplace, every workshop where someone works for years is a spot worth painting to me. I started with artists, but the workshop of our shoe repairer in the street where I live, and where I have been going since I was a child, is just asking to be painted. And the stained-glass window studio in Czysta St. or Rothe candle manufacture shop in a courtyard at Sławkowska St. – these are places that are no longer there, but I kept them in my mind as some of my most important childhood memories.

The paintings representing the Creative Work House series paradoxically speak about humanity in the strongest and most universal way. These are rooms completely devoid of private items, in contrast to artists’ ateliers, where you can feel their presence through their belongings or paintings. I believe that these emptiest rooms speak about humans in the most comprehensive way.

And here comes the question about the role of viewers in these paintings. Every viewer is a peculiar type of a voyeur, just like painters. There is an atelier, which a painter left for a moment, and we have sneaked in for a while to peek at it. It’s one of the ways to put it. It is possible to take a more serious approach, and ask questions about the role of items and places on these paintings. We live in a Christian culture built on Greek philosophy. This gives us strong foundations to perceive reality in a special way. Every painter knows that every tangible object hides an intangible world. An item or interior is only a pretext to dig deeper. It is not always successful. Only a good painting is able to unveil reality as a certain type of a mystery. Something we long for, but we can’t name it. If proper conditions are fulfilled, and there are a lot of them and it is difficult to give a ready-made solution as to the things that make a painting good or not, a space for contemplation opens up in front of us, and it is a place where we should stop while talking about paintings.

JP: The exhibition topic is described as showing the tension between human presence and absence. Can you tell us more about what drew you to this theme?

BS: I’ve been wondering myself where this tension between presence and absence comes from in my paintings. I believe that it has two sources. One of them is my childhood experience. Someone once asked me about my earliest childhood memories, and I was surprised to realise that they were quite unusual. I remember places rather than people. I can precisely bring back the image of intense sunlight on the varnished parquet floor, light dispersing delicately on raw wood floor, the image of freshly waxed oak woodblocks on the floor. The matte surface of walls, with light reflexes on it. All this entailed my world and became the theme of my paintings.

Another reason to refrain from painting people in the interiors is the fact that the first canvases of the type that were created were portraits of places left behind by people who had passed away. Hence their ritual absence. This showed me how powerful such images are. It is a series which I continue, of course.

JP: For your series ‘Workplace’ (2017-2022) and ‘Old Masters’ (2022), what was your process in selecting and depicting ‘the greats’ and what is your aim and approach in portraying them? 

BS: An artist’s atelier is a special place. What I find intriguing in other artists is the way they work, in addition to their creative work. A workplace is directly related to work organisation. The work ethos is particularly dear to me. It is close to the way Józef Czapski perceived his everyday struggle, and his atelier is the first one I painted. For many years, he was trying to find some time for his creative work. This problem and similar experience are also familiar to me. Czapski’s room and other ateliers thrive with the atmosphere of everyday work. Quiet, humble and laborious creative work.

The Old Masters series is a painting play and my great sentiment for black and white archival photos. As for the key to selecting particular artists, it was decided by a Christmas present from my daughter, Maja. I got “Recollections of a Picture Dealer” by Ambroise Vollard, a book bought at a flea market. The book includes notes of a famous art dealer, supplemented with archival photos of numerous artists, like Renoir, Rodin or Degas. I was enraptured by them and decided to use them in my paintings. I’m planning to continue the series, and my selection will always be guided by the thought that I am painting my fellow artists. My second family.

JP: Can you talk a little about the significance of scale for all your exhibited series at Bunkier Sztuki and how it informs the work’s meaning as well as the final result of installing the work? How does the space at Bunkier Sztuki interact with the work?

BS: The size of the paintings, including the ones depicting interiors, has always been crucial to me. I started with very large formats. I wanted viewers to be able to fit in there. So that the room evokes the impression of a natural size interior. A bit like in trompe l’oeil painting. In time, I came to a conclusion that smaller formats can be equally monumental. I started painting on extremely different sizes of canvases.  I realised that there is logic behind very large and very small formats. They correspond to the proportions of the human body. Large painting is the whole body, and a small painting is the head.

The space of Bunkier Sztuki turned out to be very kind to my canvases. What delighted me the most, and I discovered it at the opening night, is the cosiness and the silence owing to the floor made of small woodblocks. There was no noise despite the crowds of visitors. The floor mutes the sounds, and thanks to this the atmosphere of silence and contemplation was retained.

JP: Finally, can you tell us what is on the horizon for you and your work? Are you continuing with these series and/or beginning new projects?

BS: I’m planning to continue all  the series I showcased at the exhibition. I miss the painting of another cloister garth. It’s a series I haven’t shown as a full exhibition, but I’d like to very much. It is a kind of a shy landscape, a piece of arranged nature, enclosed at four sides by the walls of a monastery building. I like them very much. I often hang them in my home. These are great paintings for contemplation. I enjoy this load of silence they carry. Maybe I will have a chance to present them at the exhibition at the National Museum in 2025. We’ll see.