LUMINOIR ART GALLERY EXHIBITION
During October, I had the opportunity to exhibit once again the plaster–polymer sculpture from EN ÕVUM, this time at Luminoir Art Gallery. It was a meaningful experience because, for the first time, I presented the piece without having any control over the curatorial decisions or display arrangements.
The gallery chose to exhibit the sculpture at the main entrance, and although that decision was not mine, I found it symbolically powerful — the piece greeting the visitors as they entered the space, embodying a presence that seemed to invite reflection before any other work could be seen.
Being positioned as the visual “cover” of a group show suggested something about the strength and resonance that the sculpture carries on its own. But the deeper learning came from the process of letting go. I am usually very intentional about how I display my work — the lighting, the height, the spatial dialogue — seeking to control the experience of the viewer. Yet this time, by releasing that control and allowing someone else to decide how and where it would stand, I discovered another dimension of authorship: the ability to trust the work itself.
Observing how the sculpture interacted with people from this new vantage point changed my focus. Instead of worrying about the “perfect” setup, I began to pay closer attention to how the audience responded — their gestures, proximity, hesitation, or silence. The piece seemed to communicate on its own terms, independent from my expectations.
This experience reminded me of one of the central lessons I’ve learned through working with living material and through the Stoic philosophy that underpins my practice: control is an illusion, but responsibility is real.
As Epictetus writes, “Make the best use of what is in your power, and take the rest as it happens.” I realized that my role as an artist is not to dictate how the work should live in the world, but to prepare it with enough integrity for it to live meaningfully wherever it finds itself.
In that sense, the exhibition at Luminoir became a quiet exercise in humility and trust — an extension of my collaboration with the material itself.
The sculpture, even in its inert state, carried within it the memory of life, growth, and decay, and that autonomy resonated in the gallery space. Releasing control did not diminish my authorship; it expanded it, reminding me that true mastery lies in knowing when to act and when to step aside.
