PAX MENTIS – Jaana Saario
The world is messy, confusing and in bad shape.
Endless negotiations and correct, political speeches echo in the news broadcasts, while brutal and unrelenting attacks on civilians, political liquidations and propaganda numb my thoughts to this ongoing madness. I have to concentrate seriously on objectivity, maintaining calm and keeping my values together. Hopelessness, a perpetual feeling of inadequacy and a guilty conscience follow me immediately if I am not careful. I believe I am not alone in my feelings.
What is it like to grow up in a world like this? To form your own values, to make your own choices, to maintain your composure and respect, to be enough for yourself and others?
By painting I structure the chaos, I recognize the essential
I seek my perspective on the world situation by working on my paintings. I stitch old and used textiles together, painting with tempera and mixed media in ink. I soak and rub, scratch and iron. I draw with charcoal, pencil, chalk and mixed media crayons. I deal with my thoughts on abandonment, desolation, the everyday life of ordinary people and the loss of balance.
For my large paintings, I sought a more immaterial way of expression by leaving out the wedge-shaped trees. I want to better express the materiality of the textile, the roughness of the handwoven and the softness used. The home textiles sewn together represent for me a background, a safety net, a tradition, a home. They are like a protective skin that wears and chafes, but remains.
In the paintings, the figures of young people are combined with symbolic hand positions familiar from the imagery of different religions, which in different ways suggest silence, honesty, inner serenity, man’s open relationship with his environment and recovery. They are the ancient postures of sacred sculpture, yoga and meditation, in which people have for centuries sought to focus on the present moment, on the limits of their own being, on sensing the good around them and on expanding their understanding.
The writing in my paintings is a substitute for silent speech, an interrupted communication, words caught in the air. Latin is for me a language of permanence and civilization, of science, of order, of ancient wisdom.
The exhibition is complemented by small works painted on parts of a tiled stove, which for me serve as pure exercises in concentration. I immerse myself in their miniature and delicate universes and forget everything else. When working on a small painting, the movement of my hand slows down, while my thoughts become still.
Translated with DeepL.com