The Estonian word siis (‘then’) is derived from the word see (‘it’), and in linguistic terms it is the allative form of the word selle (‘its’). The allative has not survived as a distinct grammatical case in Estonian, but it answers the questions “where to?” or “in which direction?” In other words, siis was originally selle poole (‘towards it’). As the language evolved, the word first acquired a meaning specifically linked to time. See oli siis, kui… refers to something that happened at a certain point (lit. “it was when…”). However, the phrase see tuleb siis, kui… means something that will happen in the future (lit. “it will come when…”). From then on, the word siis developed a more abstract meaning of one thing following another, or one thing being inferred from another. In any case, this marks a change of viewpoint from here in the present to somewhere else, such as backwards or forwards in time; or one’s thoughts moving from premise to conclusion. This change of viewpoint is not coincidental: siis does not represent a random moment in the past or future like kunagi (lit. “at one time”), nor does it refer to a random thought. It becomes rooted in the viewpoint of the person saying the word. Siis requires a point of reference that can be used to move on elsewhere. And yet, it remains apart: it is not ‘here’. It is fixed to the current moment, flying by as a memory or longing on a predetermined orbit. Nüüd (‘now’) serves as the centre of gravity for siis, which is the centrifugal force affecting nüüd: it holds them in mutual tension.

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Tõnis Saadoja’s exhibition Siis at the Tütar gallery consists of two series of paintings whose past instalments have formed part of previous exhibitions. These include Maastik kulgeb läbi maja (‘Landscape passes through house’, with Paul Kuimet and Eero Epner at Tartu Art Museum) and Kõrgus merepinnast (‘Height above sea level’, at Kumu Art Museum). The paintings in the Mäletamise mudel (‘Model of recollecting’) series depict urban landscapes “caught in a box”. Some of them no longer exist in reality, making them images of the past, or more precisely visual memory, where the most important thing is soft but bright summer afternoon or evening light. This light, originating from memory, has once more been brought out on analogue film, where light is not the result of a digital camera’s ‘calculations’, but something that touches upon the sensitive and sensed surface itself. This analogue image has had light pass through it again, and been projected into a cardboard box placed on a dark mirror, contrasting the metaphysical effect of the latter with the non-metaphysical effect of the former. Finally, the resulting image is painted on canvas again through the eyes of the artist: the blink of an eye, the moment the lens opens (siis) is spread out in time, both as an impression of light that goes on with its life and the continuous return in one’s memory, but also as the process of painting, and then once more assembled on the surface of the painting. It is an ‘archive of moments of light’ that casts its glow into darkness; an attempt to prove the imperishability of light memory amidst fleeting light.

The other series consists of attempts to use old painting and canvas processing techniques when depicting the sky and clouds, and also constitutes a kind of project of remembering and recalling – in this case, more directly regarding art history. Unlike the first series, however, time is handled quite differently here, perhaps even in an un-Saadoja-like way: in just one, sometimes two sessions. In these paintings, siis is located unequivocally within them. They are much more clearly traces of the time of the painting process, as a photo is a trace of the moment it was taken. Their siis is now well within the reach of nüüd. In this way, their intimacy is also more clear. On the other hand, they can also be more easily generalised: their other siis is more abstract, located in history rather than memory (in an abstracted, cultural siis), because they relate to a widespread motif in painting tradition. If ‘Model of recollecting’ is a deep dive through successive surface layers of subjective memory, then the sky etudes are more objective: they contain siis in both the physical and more intellectual sense.
More generally, it can be said that Saadoja has found a new angle from which to replay the persistent motifs of his creative work: nostalgic thinking, a focus on depicting light, searching for the metaphysical meaning behind ‘meaningless’ details, the ‘elementary particles’ of urban spaces, relating different methods of representation (photography and different painting techniques), valuing painting as a process, and remembrance, on both the perceptual psychology and technical levels.

Accompanying text: Aare Pilv
Graphic design: Ott Metusala

The exhibition is supported by the Cultural Endowment of Estonia and Tallinn.