Ola Kolehmainen

lives and works in Berlin, Germany

In his former works, whilst portraying the architecture of Alvar Aalto and Mies van der Rohe, Kolehmainen immerses the viewer in close-ups of surfaces, structures and patterns. Spaces are rendered to abstraction and become interpretable as objects.

For this new series, however, the viewer is confronted with a new spatial language. Kolehmainen recognized that the immense volume and magnitude of the buildings could not be captured in a single frame. It inspired a radically new visual approach—a technique of rough fragmentation and deconstruction to interpret the notion of space and light. He puts the use of this method down to his own roots in modernism, which he now juxtaposes with numerous eras of colourful history.

Kolehmainen dissects the spaces and architectural magntitude, one individual frame at a time, then re-assembles them to form a new entity or configuration. Details once framed, are re-framed, distorting the physical experience of viewing the space. He compares this to reading a book, “You get caught. Stuck on details. Drawn in. We get to go back. Focus on a point of reference. The frame helps us focus on the details within it.”

Through these complex processes of deconstruction and reconstruction, the human scale and our perceptions of given spaces is shifted as spatially-feasible and physically-embracing spaces are reformed. Occasionally his alterations are so subtle that they are barely distinguishable.

At the same time details are not forfeited for the sake of capturing the volume of the space. The contrary happens. Intimate and ornate architectural details are blessed with a new focus. Both subtle and vivid textures, colours, patterns, and multi-faceted details imbricate the deep layers of history. They are references to the architectures’ transformative histories, preservation and renovation—reconstituted through both the architectures’ and the artworks’ visible and non-visible layers. Often the intricate details that would scarcely be visible to us by the naked eye are given the license to reach out towards us in high-resolution. Yet still, light and atmosphere remain true to the source.

The re-assemblage of frames can be seen to trace Kolehmainen’s creative processes. The collaging and overlapping of frames appear almost like thoughts and sketches, momentarily poised, as if in state of flux somewhere floating in the creator’s own cognitive space. Yet, at the same time, they succeed in resonating an ore of completeness, of unity and of harmony.

Kolehmainen also created a new process of re-photographing of photographic archival material from the Rheinisches Bildarchiv Köln (Cologne Image Archive). The original photographs depict the Cologne Roman church from 1850 until its demise as ruins at the end of the Second World War in1945. In this process, recognizable motifs evolve beyond documentation. Consecrated places become distanced, at same time, liberated from their cultural histories or ideologies.

By rejecting digital manipulation in these archival-inspired works, Kolehmainen exploits the natural chance of beauty created from the archival qualities; chemical colour used on the original and other preservation techniques. There is an acceptance of imperfection, even a revelation of mistakes. Archival objects are granted a new existence: a re-creation.

In this process of re-appropriation, between complexity and abstraction, a new form of the sublime is created.

‍

Despite fervent discord and vigorous intellectual debate between them, the three religions Islam, Judaism and Christianity have inspired art, culture, and science over millennia.

Their consecrated spaces, and places of worship, have been frequently shrouded in multiple narratives of religious power play, family feuds, and the sieges of war and destruction. Throughout history too, these places have been subject to conversion—from synagogues to mosques, churches to mosques. The Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, once an Orthodox patriarchal basilica, later became a mosque, now a museum.

Maintaining even artistic neutrality in historically significant and culturally-loaded monuments of religious architecture is challenging. But for Kolehmainen, the spaces all share a common synergy by inviting a renewed level of consciousness.

He embraces their volumes of faith without commenting on them. Each mosque, synagogue, church, basilica, or cathedral, is assumed equal contemplation. The series of works celebrates their commonalities and layered, or shared, histories— underlining the universal nature of the —, irrespective of culture or religion.

And despite embracing the stories behind them, including the legacy of their commissioners, architects and artists, Kolehmainen nonetheless maintains a detachment to their past to embrace a new way of seeing.

‍

Reflections have become an increasingly important characteristic in Kolehmainen’s works. Works are framed and mounted behind glass or plexiglass so that the viewer is intentionally reflected in the work. At the same time the reflection also serves to distance the viewer from its legacy and the space.

As Kolehmainen notes, ‘Reflection is not only of imminent importance to my work, but also in regard to the reception of it; the viewer is prompted on several levels to consciously analyze and reflect his relation to and perception of space.’

This notion is faithfully advocated in the work from Pinkasova Synagogue (Pinkas Synagogue 1535/1954 III, 2017) where the names of holocaust victims blend with our own the reflection within the frame of the work. It is an unmitigated, physically-embracing confrontation with oneself and a harrowing history. Physical reflection endorses cognitive reflections, and a reflection of one’s inner-self, so intrinsic to sacred places.

Yet the works also confront us with the presence of others in the contemporary, both within the works as suggestive recent human interventions such as modern-scaffolding (Hagia Sophia year 537 XX, 2014 and Cappella dei Principi 1604 I, 2017), prayer time (Selimiye 1575 I, 2014), and even within the reflections of the work of visitors simultaneously in the same physical space of the museum.

In this new series too, we as viewers are reflected back into a space, merging into the language of a place we have never visited. We are in a state of no compromise—to view the work you must view yourself. We see our-self merged physically with the architectural historical layers: our contemporary self is bouncing back off thousands of years.

‍

For over a decade Kolehmainen has been dedicated to capturing the details of architecture.
His earlier minimalist works, neither documentary nor conceptual, convey equally his adoration and neutrality towards the wonders, and even flaws, of the modernist pursuit.

His source of reference has recently shifted to historical and sacred spaces. We are taken on a unique journey, the artist’s journey—three Abrahamic religions in 15 European cities, 30 destinations, of over 50 historical monuments, spanning 1500 years. It is (his)story.

Inspiration for the series began in 2013. In the spirit of renaissance emperors and patrons, he was commissioned by a collector in Turkey to produce a series of works on the mosques of Mimar Sinan, the great Ottoman architect of the 16th century. His exploration of Islamic architecture and mosques motivated further works portraying Christian and Jewish architecture, including synagogues, churches and cathedrals across Europe.

‍

Study visits revealed the quintessential nature of timing, informed by the patterns of changing light throughout the days and seasons.

At some locations, such as St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome and the Saint Mark's Basilica in Venice, it is only possible capture distinct light and atmospheric conditions during specific days of the year. At St. Peter’s Kolehmainen observed there were only six days a year in which shooting was possible. But further conditions were essential too—the sun should be shining strong enough that day, the Pope should be at the Vatican or in Rome, and it should be the day of a Papal Audience at St. Peter’s Square. Only on these days is the basilica closed and not flooded with tourists.

Kolehmainen has succeeded in capturing optimal luminosities, the intervention of light and shadow and the penumbral subtleties. Each work has become the conclusion of a delicate, precious, fleeting, anticipated yet long-awaited moment: a meeting of artist, space, colour and light.

‍

Pursuit of Kolehmainen’s sacred subjects has required years of planning and study visits to the planned locations, often initially incognito. In-situ he made photographic sketches of the spaces, observed the light sources, noted paths of possible discovery within the spaces, and mapped out potential locations for shooting on return visits.

Permissions were invariably required to photograph locations, and often months of bureaucracy and correspondence were taken up to pursue copyright rights. For some locations, such as the San Marco Basilica, where photography is banned to the general public, permission even to make photographic sketches was essential.

Kolehmainen’s journey here (with the conclusion of these works in the exhibition at HAM) has required persistence, negotiation, timing, immense intuition, and patience—sometimes he spent several days at the same location standing beside his tripod and poised behind his camera lens.

‍

There are many ironies intrinsic to the exhibition and its presentation at HAM. The functionalist building of Tennis Palace and its upper floor gallery has a curved roof and high windows reaching beyond the monumental cupolas and mosaic windows portrayed in many of the works.

The visitor enters a museum, a building, only to be lured with passages to numerous other architectural spaces. Religions and eras stand face-to-face, both in subtle harmony as well as in avid confrontation. Historical monuments built to dominant a landscape or Cityscape, or to be famed for their size and their beauty, are re-scaled and celebrated within a modernistic, secular museum building. Yet our focus remains faithful to the flow of works and journey of colours.

The series of works in the exhibition and the architectural design are a Gesamtkunstwerk—a complete work of art. It consists of polychromatic and architectural installation, designed by Berlin-based architects Louisa Hutton and Matthias Sauerbruch, creating a passage from one historical era and monument to the next.

Each work is devoted a colour—constituting a play-off of opposites as well as a dialogue. Colour stages a character, or essence, creating reciprocal compositions— connoting a conversation of colour.

As an integral part of both our natural environment and man-made architectural history, the perception and psychological and physiological experience of colour is sensory. Colours also intervene and mediate history. In the functionalist building of the museum too, colour is reinstated with powerful palettes, reminding us of the vibrant and motley histories these building have had—stories that live on and colours that have often faded over centuries. The exhibition reflects the colours of history back to us.

As Kolehmainen recounts, ‘In a short time I have journeyed through one narrow slice of our history. I been able to experience moments in extraordinary ways, and that has been my task. It has touched on bygone times and processed the depth of time. But what my mission is, or what its purpose is, I still really cannot say. I am still on the journey.’

‍