art

Changing Costumes: The Global Art of Riitta Ikonen

So white and pure, you fall on dark soil. But what if no one follows? What if you’re the only one?

Two Christmases in a row, Riitta Ikonen left London and traveled home to Finland, but instead of short, cold days tempered by blissful fields of white, the winter landscape was bruised black and brown. This was not the Finland of her childhood, and that’s when the reality of global warming hit her.

So she went back to London and started sewing.

Ikonen is an artist who works primarily through costumes. With some foam and fabric and a few days at the sewing machine, she creates deliriously clever, unusual, and beautiful visual concepts. But that’s just the beginning. By themselves, the costumes are still inchoate—it’s when she takes them into the world, places them into context, and photographs them that they fill out the form of her intentions.

Ikonen has created many projects using costumes, but “Snowflake” is striking in its poignancy. Set in eastern Finland, it shows what might be the last flake standing, perhaps the first flake waiting, at times confused, at others searching. There’s a hint of vulnerability, but this snowflake seems less at risk than befuddled. Where IS everyone? She sits on the edge of Helsinki harbor in late December in front of two icebreakers that should, in normal times, be out working. Something fundamental has changed.

Set against the backdrop of an endless stream of reports, blizzards of data on sea ice melt and birds moving north and methane releasing from permafrost, Snowflake is a powerful commentary on climate change because it cuts through the debate with a simple, plainspoken voice. Lacking words, the message is universal. But it isn’t just that: Ikonen has a light touch and her costumes, well, I mean, really, they’re costumes. The snowflake could be the star of a children’s winter pageant. It’s silly. It’s fun. With floppy mitten arms and deadpan face, even at their most heartbreaking, the snowflake gives the photos an element of humor, perspective, and humanity that tempers their message with sorely needed levity.

When did you start becoming aware of climate change? And when and how did you decide to use your art to address it?
I only really embarked on climate change after it hit me ‘personally’. The snowflake image came about after two snowless Christmas holidays at home in Finland. What a funkiller disaster it was not to have any snow!

It was shot in an eastern town called Valkeala, which funnily enough means ‘Whitetown’ (roughly translated). And the images are very accessible and have a clear message. It’s very personal, yet people all over the world can relate to it.

So much of the communication on climate change feels desperate. But your art has whimsy. Is that strategic or is humor just an extension of your personality? Or both?
Whimsy is a good word.

There isn’t many such things as strategic moves in my life/art. I seem to bumble through with instincts (occasionally hitting the wall) and humor seeps into everything (even climate change campaigns). You can cut through a lot of fluff with humor. I’m working on a deadly serious topic at the moment. It’s for the international women’s day, violence against women, HIV and AIDS. Despite the topic it definitely won’t be a gloomy piece.

What are the biggest challenges of communicating climate change?
Chronic depression from working with it? The fact that the influencing challenge is so huge?

So, the costumes–where did they come from? Do you make them yourself? Are you a seamstress or did you learn sewing in order to make them?
I make them myself, yes. I’m not a supreme qualified seamstress, but I learned to sew at a very early age from my mother. The sewing machine happened to be in my room so I kept sewing. It finally came in handy.

What are the benefits of communicating through costumes compared to other forms of art? Any drawbacks?
I don’t know, you know. It surely isn’t a global solution to art, but it works for me. I can get to the image I want through the use of the costumes, I felt drawing/painting/graphics was never enough, the outcome was too predictable. But why exactly costumes, I’m still figuring it out. I quit costumes as utter nonsense a few years ago, but had to return to it after a futile search for equally satisfying medium.

Drawbacks/benefits depend on the project I guess, but so far magnifying empathy seems easy.

Especially with Bird and Leaf, it took great effort to rid the images from anything funny. Frustratingly for the photographer (Anja Schaffner), the landscape photography is easily overlooked in the presence of a costume.

The Snowflake costume is gorgeous. How long did it take to make? What’s it made of?
I’m always very optimistic with how long the costumes take to make. This one was long in the planning and quick on the table, a few days in the machine usually. The structure is a special foam kindly donated by the guys at the Tate Museum in London.

You’re a Finn living in London (you’re still there, right?). What role does living in an different culture from home play in your perspective and your art?
Still in London, yes. I’ve been in England for eight years now (by accident, I never meant to). It played more of a role in the beginning, although I still very much enjoy the outsiderness and not really being part of it all. Foreignness should make me more objective, but now, after having spent so much time in England my eyes don’t feel so fresh anymore. Hence am leaving for New York in May.

Your words often have a charm or slightly off-angle perspective that inspires attention–”the wearability of Slovenia”, for example. You’ve said your work is concerned with the “performance of image”. Why “performance” as opposed to, say, “power”?
“Performance of images” is to say that in order to capture the image I have had to perform as a leaf, for example. But the performance isn’t the climax/point of it all, the still moment encapsulated in the Photograph is. I cannot act (at all) and am really quite uncomfortable in front of camera… therefore it is really quite weird that I’m doing what I’m doing.

You’ve also said, “In my costumes tremendous things happen.” Like what?
I’m working on the London 2012 Olympics! That is tremendous at the moment.

So, what else are you working on now?
A masterclass and an exhibition in Moscow next month, an installation for the international women’s day for Action Aid, exhibitions in Milan and London(tate), the aforementioned Olympics, a project in New York from May, and many more…

Most of the work on your site is displayed in the outdoors. Are you an outdoorswoman? Do you pursue any outdoor sports?
I stem from the deep Finnish forests in North Karelia, so definitely outdoors.  I’m not too into organized sports, maybe more into spontaneous all-day outings that stretch stamina. To live in London, it’s vital to get out, as often as possible.

All photos courtesy Riitta Ikonen. Snowflake photos by Anni Koponen.

© 2009 the adventure life.