Solo exhibition “HIBRIDAI” in Palanga Resort Museum in villa “Anapilis” (“The Otherworld”).

When at least two elements come together, a hybrid is born. Different parts intertwine, their properties forming something else, interacting in new ways. In this manner, hybrids can tell us about what was while also paving the way for what could be, playing with the relationship between truth and speculation, material and technique, realism and fantasy.

In the 16th century, Sigismund Augustus, the King of Poland and Grand Duke of Lithuania, collected tapestries—large, figurative textiles often depicting animal motifs. At that time, few weavers had seen the exotic animals they were supposed to depict. The weavers had to speculate on their appearance. The results were products of imagination, surprising and magical. Hybrids of different animals were portrayed as if they were real rather than creations of the weavers' imagination. The relationship between weaving and technology is yet another hybrid—the data and coding are digital descendants of dimensions and wefts.

In the exhibition "Hybrids," Kristina Austi drew inspiration from the mysterious 16th-century tapestries and incorporated them into an artificial intelligence algorithm and her own textile samples. "Free" from the physical world's limitations, artificial intelligence collects information and generates unseen images of new hybrids, thereby creating connections between Austi and the 16th-century weavers. The digital mind lacks a sense of touch. It can develop visions but cannot feel the roughness of a surface or the fineness of a thread. The human hand remains the most dangerous weapon and the most beautiful tool. Austi opens up the infinite world of ideas created by artificial intelligence and, with her hands, translates the results into digitally woven new creations. These tapestries depict universes detached from the world's logic, where wolves bite their tails, and limbs and body parts intertwine according to the principles of weaving. The fabric's structure becomes landscapes and cities; mythological creatures dissolve into horizons of clouds and waves. With an outstretched hand, she grasps the wonder of the past and the intuition of the future, merging and weaving them together, giving birth to new generations of hybrids: between human and machine, past and future, textile and technology.

Photos by Runa Halleraker.

Description of the exhibition by KRAFT.

It is in the encounter of at least two elements that a hybrid is born. Different parts intertwine, their properties form something new, their potentials explored in interaction with each other. In this way, hybrids can tell us something about both what has been as well as opening towards what might be, playing with the relationship between truth and speculation, material and technique, realism and fantasy.

In the 16th century, the Polish-Lithuanian king Sigismund II Augustus collected gobelin tapestries – large weavings often depicting animal motifs, frequently associated with religious stories. At that time, few weavers had seen the animals they were tasked with portraying, forcing them to speculate on their appearance. The freeform results were imaginative, surprising, and magical. Hybrids of different animals were portrayed as if they represented reality, not figments of the weavers’ imagination. The relationship between weaving and technology is another hybrid – data and coding are the binary offspring of warp and weft. In Hybrid II, Kristina Austi has drawn inspiration from tapestries and fed them into an artificial intelligence model along with examples of her own weavings. Free from worldly considerations and limitations, the artificial intelligence absorbs the information and generates wild suggestions for new hybrids and combinations, drawing connections between Austi and the speciously diverse speculations of the 16th century weavers. Digital brains lack a hand’s tactility. They can conjure up adventurous visions but cannot feel the inherent quality of the thread, nor the sensuous aspects of the textile. The human hand remains the most dangerous weapon and the most beautiful tool. Austi’s hand unravels artificial intelligence’s boundless world of ideas and translates it back into her own practice in the form of large, digital tapestries. These depict universes detached from the logic of the world, where fearsome wolves bite their own tails, limbs and body parts changing wildly. The fabric’s structure becomes landscapes and cities, mythological creatures dissolve into horizons of clouds and waves. A hand reaches out and grasps around the wonder of the past and the clarity of the future, weaving them together and binding them tightly, giving birth to new generations of hybrids at the intersection of human and machine, past and future, textile and technology.

The exhibition is supported by KIN (Association of Art Centers in Norway) and Arts Council Norway.

In the Right Hands

Tendencies 2024 – Nordic Contemporary Crafts

The 46th edition of Tendencies focuses on craft’s materiality, the work of the hands, and making statements through textiles.

Considered to be one of the dominant techniques of contemporary crafts, the hand imparts knowledge, tradition, care, community, advocacy, and innovation. These abundant notions bloom from an extensive history while simultaneously contribute to defining the present.

With a specific focus on textiles, the biennale takes into consideration how this genre’s related materials and techniques have been accessible through time and social barriers while providing a universal language uniting generations and cultures.
Expanding on this foundation, the exhibition appropriates the phrase, “In the right hands”[1] as its title with the aim to demonstrate craft’s diverse perspectives and capacity to empower individuals to make statements about the world we are part of. In the Right Hands explores why materials and the work of the hand appeal to artists today, and how this relationship guides one to rethink and reevaluate society.

The biennale presents the practices of artists based in Finland, Norway, and Sweden. Their hands create sentences that narrate ongoing challenges in relation to politics and economy but also remind us that solutions emerge from imagination and making. In this context, the artists serve not only as mediators for the world around us — they guide us and offer possibilities that can only be found in the right hands.

Artists:

Henna Aho (Finland) Marsil Andjelov Al-Mahamid (Serbia/Norway) Kristina Austi (Norway) Lisa Englund (Sweden) Brit Fuglevaag (Norway) Tore Magne Gundersen (Norway) Kamil Kak (Poland/Norway) Esse McChesney (Sweden) Hanna Oinonen (Finland) Inger Johanne Rasmussen (Norway) Hilde Skancke Pedersen (Norway) Kristina Skantze (Sweden) Maja Stjärna (Sweden) Ida Suvituuli Immonen (Finland) Kristin Tinsa Sæterdal (Norway)

Curated by Maria C. Havstam and Anne Klontz

[1] Nicholas Norton, Becoming Elastic, “The Vessel: Modulating Craft,” 2023.

Text from the website: https://gallerif15.no/exhibitions_f15/tencencies-2024-in-the-right-hands/?lang=en

Detail of the work Hybrid II that will be shown at exhibition.

The SOFT Gallery is pleased to present a solo exhibition by Kristina Austi. For over ten years, she has worked with digital and jacquard weaving. She describes the fusion of technique, art, and technology as a fabric.

Austi's works are textile tales, a bridge between Lithuanian folktales and poems by William Blake. She weaves her universe, just as Blake composes his poetry. Also central is the inclusion of artificial intelligence (AI), which has evolved to be more than a tool; it is a creative partner that extends the boundaries of what is possible. The fascination for innovation through algorithms blending different textile crafts is a driving force. Austi feeds the algorithms with images of her handmade weaves and asks them to mimic 16th-century tapestries, where the results are both enchanting and disturbing. The experiments challenge traditional perceptions: What role does the machine play if one materializes what the algorithm produces?

AI creates new patterns inspired by historical textiles and challenges our ideas of originality and authenticity. This continues with the 3D-printed structures of weave bindings. In digital weaving, this is drawing or instructions on how the threads can be intertwined. By translating these into a three-dimensional form, they can appear as models for future cities or advanced microchips. The 3D structures can be traced in woven textiles. The symbiosis of tradition and innovation is the core of artistic exploration, where the magic happens in the meeting between old crafts and new technology.

The exhibition title, Hybrid, reflects the duality. The result examines the collaboration between machine and artist or craftsman. Through her work, Austi aims to highlight the tactile, the explorations, and the discoveries that have characterized her artistry, while also opening a discussion about the future of art.

Hybrid I is the first part of a larger project. Part II will be shown at KRAFT, Bergen in April and May. Selected work from the series will also be exhibited at F15, Moss, during the Tendencies 24 exhibition from March to June.

The exhibition is supported by KIN (Association of Art Centers in Norway) and Arts Council Norway.

Photographer of the exhibition: Øystein Thorvaldsen.

Speech for the exhibition HYBRID I by Kristina Aust written by Kirsti van Hoegee

Tale til utstillingen HYBRID I av Kristina Austi

Soft galleri (Oslo)

29. februar - 7. april 2024

Alt du ser er nytt

Du åpner øynene, plasserer kroppen i en våken posisjon, kjenner hvordan nervefibrene slynger seg som røde tråder gjennom kroppen. I det føttene treffer det kalde gulvet beveger trådene seg oppover beina, via innvollene, kobler seg på vagusnerven og samler seg til en bunt i bakre skallegrop.

Alt du ser er nytt. Som nyanser av noe gjenkjennelig, men samtidig overraskende fremmed.

Du er våken og beveger deg.

Ute i hagen faller epler fra trærne. Det er februar og solene varmer mer enn de pleier. Den ene om dagen og den andre om natten. Treet vokser både dag og natt og bærer lyse epler som faller. Røde tråder binder eplene til treet, som navlesnorer. Som om treet sier at eplene tilhører treet. Men det stemmer ikke. Det kan ikke stemme.

Nede ved havet speiles skyene i vannet, eller er det bølgene som etterligner skyer? Du prøver å forestille deg en sky. Lukker øynene, hører havet som bølger, og tankene dine er ordløse og skyene går i oppløsning.

Alt du ser er nytt. Som nyanser av noe fremmed, men samtidig overraskende gjenkjennelig.

Du vet at bildene i hodet er satt sammen av alt øynene dine har sett. Du kan ikke forestille deg noe som er løsrevet fra erfaringen. Du kan sette sammen informasjonen, du kan veve nye bilder med utgangspunkt i billedbiblioteket som finnes, du kan flette tråder, velge farger, mate hjernen med bortglemte minner fra drømmer og virkelighet. Du kan smake prinsessens tårer, du kan flykte til det forheksede slottet.

Vannet sier: Svøm her, svøm her, lille gutt, jeg vil gi deg hvit skjorte og et rødt bånd.

Men var ikke det røde båndet eple sitt?

Bak trærne skimter du byen. De høye bygningene med tårn og spirer som vokser seg større og større for hver dag som går. De vokser ned mot vannet, ned mot havet hvor skyene bølger og dyrene danser. Epletrærne var der først, og nå flettes de røde båndene inn i bygningene, binder naturen sammen med det menneskeskapte som vevbindinger i fritt fall. Som arkitektoniske renningstråder.

Alt du erfarer er nytt. En tilstand av kjenthet ledsaget av et element av ukjenthet.

Du kan ikke forestille deg noe som er løsrevet fra erfaringen.

Et ord gir ingen mening om det ikke kan festes til en forestilling. Du spør den kunstige intelligensen hva ordet KULANTIFA kan bety. KI svarer:

Ordet "kulantifa" virker å være et oppdiktet ord uten noen spesifikk betydning i norsk eller engelsk. Hvis det er et nylig skapt ord eller et ord fra et fantasyspråk eller oppdiktet språk, kan betydningen være basert på konteksten der det ble skapt eller brukt. Uten kontekst kan det være vanskelig å tilskrive en nøyaktig betydning til et slikt ord. Hvis det er et oppfunnet ord, kan du gi det den betydningen du ønsker, eller bruke det som et kreativt element i en historie eller en samtale.

Du ser ulven i havet og lurer på om den ser på deg med hodet som er festet til halsen eller med hodet som er festet der halen skulle vært. Du gir den navnet KALUNTIFA og umiddelbart har ordet et tilhørende bilde i din bevissthet.

Alt du ser er nytt. Det manifesterer seg som en subtil forandring, en ny tolkning, en unik kombinasjon av kjente elementer.

Du fortsetter å mate bevisstheten med umulige kombinasjoner, med nye tråder, med dikt og folkeeventyr. Du vever en ny verden, en verden hvor baksiden er like virkelig som fremsiden.

En verden av DNA tråder spent opp i en renning. Et parallelt univers, hvor avstanden mellom de to er konstant. Der lyse epler modnes i nattsolen, der en ensom ulv symboliserer alt som eksisterer i det bevisste.

Hvilke betingelser skal til for at bevissthet oppstår? Den subjektive opplevelsen av å være våken.

Du er våken og beveger deg.

KI sier: Bevissthet er knyttet til vår evne til å oppfatte, forstå, føle, og reagere på verden rundt oss, samt å være klar over vår egen eksistens og mentale tilstand.

Du aksepterer den eksisterende tilstanden. Solene møtes to ganger i døgnet, og lyset er overveldende. De arkitektoniske bindingene fungerer som et filter for det sterke lyset, og du kan se bølgene for det de er. To ganger i døgnet er bølgene bølger. Og det er da dyrene våkner, det er da de kan danse uten å synke, for bølgene blir faste og skyggene harde.

Alt du ser finnes. Lys blir til bilder, blir til forestillinger, blir til erfaringer, blir til minner, blir til noe som kan hentes frem igjen, til noe som kan videreformidles, til kollektiv bevissthet. Du stryker ulven mot hårene og han slikker deg med halen.

Vannet sier: Svøm her, svøm her, lille gutt, jeg vil gi deg hvit skjorte og et rødt bånd.

Lysende epler stiger mot skyene, gjennom bygninger og videre oppover. De vever sine tråder sammen og skaper en verden der alt og ingenting sameksisterer. Livsveven, med løse tråder og bølgende skyer. Kroppens vev, dyrenes vev, plantenes vev. Alt bindes sammen og alt oppløses. Og du fortsetter å mate veven, og veven gir deg tilgang på all samlet kunnskap, og du føler du mister balansen, at de røde trådene drar deg med, at du ikke lengre kan kontrollere retningen. Du overgir deg.

Du overgir deg til vevens uforutsigbare univers, der hvor trådene ustoppelig skaper nye bindinger, der knuter oppløses og din bevissthet må gi slipp. Du står med tråden i hånden og aksepterer at i det du har forestilt deg et bilde vil det aldri forsvinne. Du er i en tilstand uten endepunkt, uten rom og tid, i fri flyt, kun fastholdt av den røde tråden.

Røde tråder binder epler til treet, binder mennesker til hverandre, til verden, som navlesnorer som aldri blir klippet. Som om treet sier at eplene tilhører treet. Som om jorden sier at mennesket tilhører jorden.

Men det stemmer ikke. Det kan ikke stemme.

For alt du ser er nytt. Som nyanser av noe gjenkjennelig, men samtidig overraskende fremmed.

Kirsti van Hoegee

Februar 2024