Horrors last, but so do we

A petrified white mountain fairy, a giant’s daughter whose portrait can be seen in a rock in the Julian Alps, a sister with prophetic powers, is popularly known as “Ajdovska deklica”, is a masterpiece of nature. With a petrified face and look, cursed because of her prophecy about a fallen man, she has until recently been in the shadow of Yugoslav heroes and anti-heroes. Her story has been part of the tradition for centuries, and her ideology is not dogmatic, but fundamental. The horrors that caused her to turn a blind eye concern greed, and therefore humanity in general. However, less than a decade ago UGM (Art Gallery Maribor) was re-examining its position in the short-lived history, against socialist realism, i.e. “The Hero We Love”, now this art institution has found a meaningful way to actualize the past. Namely, the UGM team led by Simona Vidmar revived EKO (Yugoslav Triennial of Ecology and Art), founded way back in 1980 as a reaction to local air and river pollution, the effect of the textile and motor industry, and renamed it EKO – art and environment triennials 2021. While today exhibitions on the topic of ecology flood the world of art, EKO can boast that it was among the first to develop, now historic, environmental awareness.

This year’s EKO 9, under the title Eyes in stone, open until 25 August, was designed and curated by art director Jure Kirbiš, inspired by the folk legend of the Ajdovska girl and folk horror. As part of the visual identity of EKO 9, those eyes in stone now look out from the attic windows of the new space of the EKO Triennial – the old sanatorium of Dr. Mirko Černič in a villa in the center of Maribor. Instead of hospital furniture and scattered x-rays of the lungs, there is an inscription at the entrance to this until recently neglected house “Come in, if you dare.” Because EKO 9 is a well-thought-out allegory of planet Earth, our common home, under the constant threat of ecological collapse, entering the villa is entering a not quite real space as a disaster zone. Nevertheless, this villa is filled with works of art that, through the use of shock, feelings of fear, restlessness and despair, as well as critical thinking, offer a chance for catharsis. Because, as the famous mime says, as a form of low art: “Horrors last, but so do we.”

The former trajectory determined by the hospital protocol has been replaced by the one dictated by the exhibition narrative. All the subconscious fears provoked by the hospital environment evoke the fear of ecocide as one of the negative effects of capital appreciation. They are additionally stimulated by a carefully selected sequence of artistic positions that alternate in lighted and dark rooms on two floors. For example, the installation Last Harvest (2022) by Līga Spunda & Aleksandar Breža from Latvia is located in the X-ray room, marked with a radiation hazard sign. In their apocalyptic garden “grows” a grotesque and monstrous, anthropomorphic vegetable of increased proportions, which is a comment on the global energy and food crisis. Vid Koprivšek showed the same responsibility towards the environment with his multimedia installation “Track/Tir” (2024), realized in the room where X-rays were once developed and viewed. With the ramp he places between the screens in the space, he also projects biological qualities onto technology, thus representing technoanimism. Consistent with the establishment of historical material references, Kirbiš also included in EKO 9 a series of drawings “Beatles” (1980) by Oton Polak, a pioneer of ecological thought in art, used for the First EKO Triennial in 1980. The drawings are placed contextually, along corridors and stairs, and as the trajectory of the human subject progresses, the bugs, placed in an orthogonal grid in the drawings, slowly die.

Because it is inspired by prophecy and takes on the aesthetics of horror films, EKO 9 is left with trouble in a different way from other ecological art shows that, for example, take over shamanic rituals or didactically convey scientific facts. It differs in that it connects a local legend, a haunted sanatorium, folk horror, and in order to face the horrors of the world, it not only fulfills relationism and contextualism, as important criteria for a successful exhibition, but also creates an exciting and unique experience for visitors. EKO 9 responsibly features a short production cycle, which respects ecological principles, in the sense that the selection of artistic projects is domestic and regional, and that the transport of works is reduced to a minimum or that they are locally produced.

As a comment on the legend of the Ajdovska girl, on the man who fell from greed, an entire room is dedicated to a male figure in a horizontal position in different styles and media. Photo series by Matjaž Wenzl “Face Down” (2012–2024) represents middle-aged creatives from Maribor in a frightening lying position, face turned towards mother earth. In the same room, there are also minimalist figures of Saša Bezjak embroidered on fabric and landscapes by Ludvig Pandur, which the artist hallucinated while in a hospital bed.

The series of well-thought-out cross-references also includes a tribute to the 1995 EKO 5 Triennale, titled Natura mortua. The room shows a “bouquet” of still life by ten artists working in different styles. Kirbiš draws parallels between the simplifications in static still life and in horror, aiming to point out their ability to respond to infrastructural issues such as growth and marginalization. By placing dying flowers in a hospital bed, Kirbiš draws horror from a situation that significantly limits the movements of the subjects (people, flora). The “we resist.garden” formation can be seen through the window is the work of Eva-Marie Lopez in the form of the logo of the former nearby chemical factory. The grass formation is made up of herbicide-resistant superweeds. On the other side, the room adjoins the healing room. In it, Gašper Kunšić, inspired by the magical use of plants, the medicinal properties of ferns, offered the audience the possibility of isolation similar to that at the foot of the canopy. There are also pillows filled with dried ferns, which, in addition to activating the senses of hearing and smell, are available for the audience to place on the sore spot. In the continuation of the exhibition, instead of flowers as a metaphor for decay, Edith Payer makes available a collection of human-shaped objects from public space with the work “Gallery of Portraits” (2024). The phenomenon of pareidolia presented here also points to narcissistic humanity, which finds a human figure even in the manifest decline of capitalism.

On the walls, from which the paint from the hospital period is peeling, chimeras are adequately placed on the collages of the Austrian artist Ines Doujak from the series “Ghost Population” (2016–), which represents “contaminated others,” thus opposing classification systems that draw strict boundaries between illness and health. These beings are a combination of body parts of human and non-human relatives. Inspired by medical atlases, they are testimony to the ubiquity of contamination and the porosity of all forms of life. These recurring patterns of microbiological and ecological crises arising from economic exchange reveal the failures of globalization and late capitalism. Illness, “Ghost Population” reminds us, is a radical stimulus.

As landscapes play an important role in horror films, EKO 9 does not present them as petrified, but they are certainly far from idealized. They stand as a commentary on humanity’s fears, making the unspeakable present. An entire room is occupied by an electrified corn field, which with its vivid colors invites you to enter, and the consequence of which is a series of electric shocks, which, in addition to horror, evoke the idea of ​​ecocide. Elsewhere in the building, on a dilapidated wall, one below the other, framed like pictures, are juxtaposed a drawing in the combined technique SLOVENAE 22 /Karst/ by Herman Gvardjančič and a screen with the video work “Burning Field” (2017) by Mile Panić. Both works of art indicate the effects of fire, as force majeure or initiated by human hands, they evoke the image of nature burned to optimize the capitalization of the land.

On the balcony of the sanatorium, and in place of the screen that hid the patients from other people’s views and (life), flags with symbols of endangered species Flags for Endangered Species, 2022 are flying. They are signed by David Nez, a former member of the Slovenian avant-garde group OHO, one of the three leaders from the historically famous happening Triglav (1968). On the other hand, the hopeless horror of terminal illness is represented by the art of Andrea Eva Győri (1985–2022) established but prematurely deceased Hungarian artist, included in the triennial through the efforts of adviser Dominika Trapp. Drawings and glazed ceramics with the motif of all-seeing eyes, so powerful that they squeeze the juice out of lemons and prevent the flow of fluids and the cycle of life, have a shocking effect in the former hospital room.

Ana Likar in the experimental film “She Made Storms” (Marina Češarek Gallery, 2024) connects the historical witch hunt and found material relations within the framework of one gallery, while Ana Čavić fantastically and illustratively reinterprets mythopoetic representations with the work “Papercut Poetry”. The contemporary horror film “Demonic Screens” by Thomas Hörl and Peter Kozek, in collaboration with Alexander Martinz, and on the recommendation of the triennale advisor Markus Waitschacher, is supplemented with terrifying props from the films hidden in several boxes.

ECO 9 is sympoethical undertaking. However, it is also asymmetrical because it indicates that the relationship between humane and inhumane subjects is still unequal and gruesome. Nevertheless, EKO 9 points to the fact that the center of power is changeable by the subversion of the distribution of the sensible. “Eyes in stone” can be interpreted as a visual metaphor for the concept of “returning gaze” to planet Earth, as an effect of ignoring the prophecy. EKO 9 seemingly closes its eyes to the current anthropomorphic horrors caused by wars, but points to them through archetypes and a discreet policy of empathy. In the context of environmental disasters and wars, these conceptions underscore a key point: while it may be convenient to turn a blind eye to such crises, neglect only perpetuates the damage. “Eyes in Stone” reminds us that nature and history bear witness to human actions, just as Mulvey’s returning gaze reminds us of the overlooked power of action of marginalized women’s voices. Ignoring environmental disasters and wars is like denying the silent witness of the natural world and affected populations, perpetuating cycles of destruction and suffering.