Rein Sikk: Why is Tallinn afraid of Kalevipoeg, Oinas, and a horse?

The President of Estonia could launch a sculpture initiative that would result in an unprecedented exhibition. This would broaden people's understanding and taste in art and enrich public spaces with new attractions, writes Rein Sikk.
From the countryside, it seems to me that Tallinn is a timid city. It appears to be afraid not only of Kalevipoeg, but also of Oinas and even a horse.
Let me clarify. It was only recently that Tallinn art lovers practically staged an uprising against Tauno Kangro's Kalevipoeg sculpture plans. Critics claimed that this giant figure holding a boat didn't belong by the sea — too large and too ugly. Now there is similar backlash against Flo Kasearu's equestrian sculpture of Alma Ostra-Oinas. Once again, the main complaint is that it's… ugly. Added to that is dissatisfaction that it's too small. Particularly controversial is the small size of Oinas's companions — other feminist figures — within the larger composition. Oh dear…
But outside Tallinn, in the countryside, life is better. Here, artworks are welcomed with joy — no shouting, no crying.
For example, artist Seaküla Simson, together with Latvian Edvīns Krūmiņš, has welded together a number of sculptures from scrap metal: a rat in Rakvere, a hedgehog in Jõhvi, a horse in Kadrina, and a mole at the Mining Museum. Simson has also created flying squirrels and kissing vendace fish for the Kurro spa. Not a single scandal.
Another story altogether are the wooden sculptures decorating bus stops in South Estonia. They've practically inspired a tourist route. Praise is constant, and joy feeds on the art itself.
Bold, folk-inspired art is also created by the Heimtali Museum. At Anu Raud's encouragement, they have collected 60 highly diverse scarecrow sculptures — each more striking than the last. Add to that the wind chime collection opened this year at the Iisaku Museum. Each one is essentially a small sculpture — with sound.
Let's also mention the soon-to-be eye-catching piece on Kukruse Hill in Ida-Viru County: a large, glowing artwork reading "Jõhviwood," a playful nod to Hollywood. That, too, is art.
All this makes me think: perhaps the problem with Tallinn's sculpture scene — and the source of some of its residents' grumpiness — is simply that there are too few sculptures. There's nothing to compare them to. Tallinn is no sculpture paradise like Rome or Florence, where you can literally stumble over statues, or Oslo's Vigeland Park with its couple of hundred works, or the American city of Loveland, where more than 500 sculptures are displayed publicly.
That said, Estonia has hosted many sculpture events that have sparked enthusiasm — wood sculpture days in Sagadi, limestone sculpture days in Jõhvi and Paide, and creative workshops in Kadrina using whatever materials happened to be at hand. Unfortunately, Tallinn has been left out. And from this comes a proposal from someone in the rural countryside.
For years, the President of Estonia has organized idea workshops for schoolchildren, generating hundreds of bright contributions each year and spreading intellectual inspiration across the country. Perhaps the President could also initiate sculpture workshops — inviting both young people and adult art enthusiasts to create works from all kinds of materials, and encouraging them to bring or send their creations to Kadriorg. This could result in an unprecedented exhibition.
What would we gain?
First, we would broaden both young and adult participants' artistic taste and hands-on creativity through a meaningful initiative.
Second, we would create an impressive collection of artworks in Kadriorg Park. After an initial display, the pieces could travel across Estonia — with the added value of having been acknowledged by the President.
Third — and most importantly — seeing many different sculptures at once would help develop Tallinn residents' artistic taste. Perhaps then Tallinn would no longer be afraid of Kalevipoeg, horses, or Oinas. Maybe people would come to understand that judging art involves more than just calling it "ugly," "too small," or "too big." Instead, the real question would become: what truly makes art, Art — with a capital A?
I wish for joyful reflection, not dismissal.
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Editor: Mirjam Mäekivi, Argo Ideon











