September 7, 2024
original article in Montenegrin on Vijesti by Jelena Kontić
Interview with young Montenegrin artist Asja Mijovic: Destruction is the Beginning of a New Form
I re-examine the issue of time, permanence, disappearance, death and (new) beginning, while working with found materials to which I give a new meaning, says Mijović, who in May completed a Dual Degree program in USA and won the award for the best sculpture in her class.
The motive of destruction and the motive of new life upon destruction are themes that, among other things, life in Montenegro has taught me. We often rise from the ashes, regardless of the situation – be it political, social or economic. This resilience is part of our history, and I believe it is something that has followed me as well.
This is how the young fine artist Asja Mijović, who moved from Montenegro to the United States for her studies, describes the central leitmotifs in her artwork and the heritage she carries with her from Montenegro.
Mijović was born in 2001 in Podgorica. In May, she completed two undergraduate programs in the United States: one in the field of fine arts at the "School of the Museum of Fine Arts" at Tufts University in Boston, Massachusetts: and another in the field of philosophy and social sciences at the same institution. In addition to earning two parallel degrees, she received an award for the best sculpture in her final year.
In an interview with Vijesti, the artist shares that she has always had an interest in social and political sciences, as well as in philosophy. However, art has been her passion since childhood. She took advantage of the opportunity to study both fields in parallel, working hard and with dedication. The curriculum from one program allowed her to delve deeper into the other. Eventually, however, she realized that art was her true calling.
What are her motives, why and how she decides to use materials that end up as waste, how much Montenegro influences her and her work, and how she sees the domestic scene, Asja Mijović tells us in an interview for Vijesti’s Art Section.
JK: You recently completed your studies in the USA where you were awarded the Joyce McDaniel Prize for Excellence in Sculpture for the best artwork in your graduating class. Could you tell us more about that?
AM: I was drawn to creating with paper, particularly because of its ability to have many textures and prints... The piece for which I received the prize is about two meters long. In addition to the paper, the inner part of the sculpture contains two halves of a wooden chair, while the rest, including everything in between, is made of paper I produced myself in the mill. For that sculpture, but also for another art piece, I was awarded the prize for the best sculpture.
The second one is titled Still Life of Flowers inspired by a masterpiece of a Dutch painter. The concept behind it is that the flowers symbolize memento mori – reminding us that everything has its death, its time, and that life ends and something new begins. My work explores that idea of deconstruction, combined with the theme of waste which I often address in my art. For this particular piece, I used plastic flowers that have been discarded from the cemetery and were no longer fulfilling their original purpose - standing on monuments. I gathered flowers in the process of decomposition and placed them in wax coverings, with wooden coffin at the bottom. This sculpture gave those semi-decomposed flowers their own grave. The piece also included melted candles and flowers, reinforcing the memento mori theme. It is designed to stand on the floor and be viewed from above, much like visiting a grave. The work speaks to the concept of duration.
What materials do you use most often, how do you find them and how important are they to your work, considering that they also bring a special spirit to the sculpture and the overall expression? In addition to "Still Life of Flowers", where else can your attitude toward material be seen?
Materials are very important to me. Lately, I have been mostly focusing on sculpture, but I also engage in performance and video art, depending on which medium best expresses an idea. For sculpture, many material choices stem from the initial concept. Based on the found objects I can across, I then decide which other materials will complement them.
The last piece I created was a musical instrument made from a lobster fishing device. These devices can often be found in Boston and Northeastern Coast, and are made of metal. Their metal structure inspired me to consider how a stringed instrument made from such a structure would look like and what would be the sound produced by it, so I decided to make a stringed instrument.
In order for such instrument to produce sound, it must be hollow and have a membrane. Following a detailed analysis, I decided to make it from a special paper called abaca, inside which I put the algae that were adjacent to the metal object that I found. The decision to use algae was inspired by the encounter with the found object but also long study and scrutiny.
Of course, a conceptual idea often evolves from the original one. What I initially imagine with passion to create something changes in the process of work along with all those materials that have their own limits and surprising ways of behavior that I subsequently discover. Thus, I often adapt to the materials and their possibilities, so the original idea undergoes several modifications.
For the instrument to produce sound, it needed to be hollow and have a membrane. After carefully analyzing the object, I decided to use a special paper called abaca to create it, adding algae I found near the metal object within the paper. The choice to use algae came from both the encounter with the found object and my long study of it
How does your work connect with life, daily routines and current issues? Do you introduce an engaged message or reference certain circumstances, such as ecological, economic, social issues or human rights, ideologies, or the like?
I believe that when we create something, we always think about these themes. When presenting a work of art to the world, it usually has some social, ecological or political implication. While I do consider them when creating, I don’t aim to be completely transparent with these messages, because I would like that people form their own interpretations. Of course, since I use different materials, I must also consider the environmental impact, especially when choosing between plastic or renewable materials. This is extremely important and we should all think about it - whether or not to use plastic bags, for example.
I often reflect on how my art objects will interact with their environment after I set them up and leave. Ideally, I would like my works to be decomposable, not permanent, to exist in a way that allows them to break down in every sense. The objects that inspire me—those I use in my sculptures—are usually in a state of decomposition or change, like the lobster trap that was discarded because it could no longer serve its original purpose. I don’t want to halt the process of deconstruction, but rather, I work with these found objects, giving them a new purpose, if only for a while.
The themes of time, permanence, disappearance, death, and rebirth often emerge in my work. I’m interested in what the process of breaking down or destroying something really means. To me, destruction signals the beginning of another form, a change. These are the kinds of questions I aim to explore through my art.
Can art be eternal even though its physical existence comes to an end? Does the artistic value of a work disappear when it disappears—whether through decomposition, aging, theft, or simply its transience?
These are natural aspects of art. Just as some paintings fade over time, everything follows its own course. To me, that’s refreshing because it signals that something new is on the horizon. I enjoy visiting museums and experiencing different works, but I believe that nothing is permanent or eternal, nor should it be. Nonetheless, a truly great work is eternal in its own way. It lives on through people—through impressions, through videos, and through its influence on art. In that sense, it is eternal and becomes a part of history, even if the physical piece may no longer exist in the same form it had when it was created.
You also deal with video works, which are also a form of construction and sculpture, only in a different medium. How much freedom and space does this type of expression provide?
With video art, there’s much less emphasis on materials and more focus on observation. These videos often capture specific moments or situations that I feel can only truly be conveyed through the medium of video. It’s an incredibly creative process, and I frequently collaborate with video artists, so it’s very much a part of my artistic ecosystem.
In video work, there’s a process of editing and presenting these recordings in a way that makes everything feel interconnected. There’s an entire science to creating something that flows seamlessly and feels natural, even though, in reality, it is not natural at all.
Artists often say that drawing is the foundation of everything. What do you think?
For me and my work a lot of things stem from drawing, but I don't think it has to be that way. I know some artists who are incredibly talented but cannot draw, so I think it's very individual. I started drawing as a young child in elementary school, where my teacher was the artist Sanja Raonic who played a pivotal role in setting me on this path. If it weren't for her, I probably wouldn't be doing art today. She worked closely with me, inspired me and tryly believed in my potential, encouraging me to keep creating, and I’m very grateful to her.
How did the parallel studies of fine arts on the one hand, and of philosophy and civic studies on the other, affect you and how did the knowledge you gained in one program contribute to your understanding of the other?
I think that creativity and the artistic work helped me a great deal in thinking creatively in philosophy and social sciences, where we often discussed how to solve a social problem, whether it involved the law, mobilizing people around a common cause, or becoming activists, for example. In that sense, art was a big help. On the other hand, philosophy gave me an opportunity to analyze problems. Philosophy is based on logic and an analytical approach, where every issue is broken down into its smallest components to uncover the truth and find a solution. This has helped me approach the challenges I face in art with the depth that philosophy offers.
Was there a moment when you decided on one of the two careers you are pursuing?
In my third year, I had the opportunity to go on a student exchange to attend the Academy of Beaux Arts in Paris. Only one student from the class gets that chance! That year, Paris was recovering from the Covid-19 pandemic, and there were many art events happening daily, so the Academy was thriving. Young artists from all over the world were studying there, and we started connecting, hanging out and creating works together. During those seven months, I was completely immersed in art. The atmosphere was all about exhibitions, creation, and artistic thinking, and that’s when I realized that art was truly my calling. I decided I wanted to dedicate myself to it, although, of course, I also decided to finish my studies in philosophy and civic studies.
How many motives, legacies or burdens do you carry from Montenegro, both as an artist and as a young person?
Many. Montenegro is in my thoughts every day and I feel that it gives me incredible strength to continue with my work. I know I can always return here, that it’s my home. As long as I have that, I can relax and create in the USA, aiming at some larger goal, aware that Montenegro is waiting for me.
On the other hand, we are a very friendly people, and while America is somewhat different in that regard, I think that my friendliness and kindness – instilled in Montenegro - helped me connect with my friends and colleagues in America. This openness helped me build strong friendships, create collaborative art and I’m deeply grateful for that cultural heritage.
Additionally, I think many aspects of Montenegro are reflected in my works. The theme of destruction and creation through destruction, the idea of a new life after destruction (because the objects that I find are actually in the process of destruction, but through my works they gain a new meaning) and a new life..., I think that life in Montenegro taught me this, among other things.
Based on your experience, how much does Montenegro offer, both in terms of education and culture, as a small country with a rich artistic scene, albeit still focused on more traditional expressions? How much potential do young people here have to progress?
I think this phenomenon exists in several former socialist countries, like Russia and the former Soviet Union, where modern art from the 50s and 60s still dominates the local market. This is largely due to an infrastructure that does not support or encourage young artists and contemporary creativity, instead favoring institutionalized forms of art.
I believe this is one of the main reasons why many young artists go to the West or East, to larger cities where contemporary art is thriving. However, I think there are many advantages to being in Montenegro, as in its smaller market, artists can stand out and carve out their own space. Additionally, Montenegro is incredibly inspiring as a country, so these are important assets for our state.
Montenegro has so many natural beauties and is fascinating from a socio-political and historical perspective, offering many stories that can be told through art. For example, in the West, people are often very interested in hearing from voices in Montenegro or the Balkans because it’s relatively unknown to them.
How much do people there know about Montenegro, the Balkans, and our art? And how much do you follow events here?
I follow the domestic political scene closely and try to think about solutions or ways I can positively contribute to the overall social and cultural landscape, rather than just getting frustrated by current problems. I already have some ideas about how I could do this in the future.
Over time, I’ve found that there is significant interest in Montenegro, though many people are still unaware of us. Among those who do know, many still carry prejudices related to the wars of the 1990s. They tend to think we’re constantly in conflict and that no art is created here. So, there are definitely misconceptions about life in the Balkans.
However, there is also a strong curiosity. I’ve met many people who are eager to listen and learn more about our region. A number of my friends have visited Montenegro or plan to in the future. Some even follow local events here and find our country to be very inspiring and interesting.
Will the Montenegrin public soon have the opportunity to get to know you through an exhibition?
At the moment, I can’t announce an exhibition in Montenegro, but I hope that it will happen soon. I recently participated in the collective exhibition The Leisure Class in Hamburg at the Museum of Contemporary Art Deichtorhallen, as part of a larger project called Survival in the 21st Century.
In Hamburg, I presented a video work that I created while in Montenegro, which was filmed in a beauty salon. The concept of the exhibition, as the name suggests, revolves around the Leisure Class—people who don't have to work and have time to rest and engage in their personal activities. This concept, particularly in Western Europe, is quite abstract.
The exhibition itself was somewhat of a parody. I was invited by a colleague with whom I collaborated on an exhibition in Boston. She is also involved in online businesses and markets outside of the traditional sphere, in what's referred to as the off-market. We created the exhibition together in Boston, and she later presented a second iteration in Hamburg, inviting me to participate.
I’m also, along with my friend Julia Petrocelli, curating an exhibition in Massachusetts, USA. Collaborations with other artists are incredibly important to me, and I believe that’s the only way to succeed in the art world—through close collaboration. This is something I’ve learned in Paris, in Montenegro, and that I’ve continued to apply in America.
Currently, I’m more connected with Montenegrin artists working abroad, while I also follow many local artists from the Balkans through social media. For example, I find the work of Selma Selman, a Bosnian artist of Roma origin, to be incredibly inspiring—especially her phenomenal performances. Ultimately, I would love to create a collective of our artists around the world because we have so many phenomenal, talented young creators.