Memory of Senses
The paintings presented in this exhibition were created as part of my Master’s thesis at the Painting Department of the Art Academy of Latvia. While the academic framework provided structure, the theme itself arose organically from ongoing threads in my artistic inquiry and personal reflections. Throughout the process, I engaged with photography—a widely explored medium within contemporary painting—not as an end in itself, but as a point of departure. A photograph captures a single, frozen moment. Yet in memory, that moment stirs, expands, and is imbued with narrative. Memory, however, is selective: it retains only the essential, allowing the inessential to dissolve. Through painting, I attempt to render the ephemeral nature of dreams—the intangible textures of remembrance.
At the heart of each work lies my enduring fascination with the human condition—how we learn to live, to coexist, to seek peace and meaning. This exploration is, admittedly, deeply personal; it reflects my own search for answers, often revealed through the quiet observation of others. These contemplations materialize in my paintings—intimate yet resonant, shaped by emotional undercurrents that speak to shared human experience. They gesture toward our primal essence. No matter how informed or fortified we appear, our core remains rooted in fundamental values and emotions—those which offer us a sense of joy, grounding, and belonging. In contrast, the noise of performative discourse and endless analysis often serves only to distract us from the essential—acts of avoidance, a retreat from inner truth and vulnerability.
In my work, I seek to give visual form to internal states, through seemingly mundane scenes and figures that, when filtered through sensation, transcend the literal. As in dreams or distant memories, form softens, boundaries blur, and only what truly matters emerges. In this way, I consciously distill the image—stripping away excess, detail, and narrative—to reveal a poetic condensation of experience. The priority is not storytelling but atmosphere, not chronology but resonance. The viewer is invited to construct their own narrative. I offer an impression, a surge of energy crystallized in a singular moment. What follows depends on the viewer’s willingness to enter into this exchange—to feel, to receive, to respond.
