Yangon Weather Forecast, Burma

Swedish artist keeps people guessing

LIKE many expats who move to Myanmar, Casper Johansson came for a new job. Only, his was the kind that makes parents’ eyes wide with alarm, that has no clearly defined hours, wage structure or pension benefits, and that, if the dictionary weren’t alphabetical, would be placed next to “penniless” and “sacrifice”. Job description: artist.

Yet four and a half years later things are working out rather well for Casper, who is surer than ever in his decision to live his dream instead of talk about it. But then he has cause to be confident; his third exhibition will open on December 10 at Pansodan Gallery.

In keeping with his two previous exhibitions, the new work retains its street art roots while exploring new techniques and retaining a perceptive eye for Myanmar signs that speak to larger themes.

“What I’m questioning is how much freedom does a child have in growing up,” says the artist, who is interested in how individuals are socialised in their formative years to accept the values of their communities. “It’s about giving children opportunities to choose their own destiny.”

To illustrate this he gives the example of his painting of a young boy with a dome of barbed wire over his head — the sort of wire that is used with profligate abandon to protect property in Yangon’s richer suburbs.

“When I look at that painting it feels like that boy had dreams but it wasn’t possible to realise them for some reason, whatever that reason is.”

One of the most enjoyable aspects of Casper’s art is that it feeds off “icons and symbols and everyday questions we’re exposed to”, utilising them in different ways to create new meanings. But like the original source material, which may be understood variously by different people, Casper is eager not to be too obvious with the intention of his paintings.

“Sometimes it’s very funny with a strong message, it’s provocative, you get a laugh or a reaction. But sometimes it’s nice to have, ‘Hmm, what does this mean’ without taking sides,” he says.

“So I want to say something but I don’t want to say what I want to say because I want the person to be engaged with the painting and come up with their own interpretation.”

Giving up control may be fine for the message, but the artist says he is still firmly in command of the picture-making process.

In his previous exhibition of acrylics on canvas, displayed at the French Institute in late 2010, he incorporated street art themes and political messaging into a style that mixed controlled brushwork with barely restrained streams of paint running down the canvases.

“In the previous exhibition it was a huge step for me to let the paint and gravity do its own work and just sit back and watch it. That was scary, I was sweating because I didn’t have control.”

While he hopes “the attitude or spirit is still there” from street art, the new paintings are the result of experiments with a more controlled, labour-intensive process utilising rubber stamps. The first technique, which he started to employ about a year ago, involves cutting an inverse image in a rubber plate before stamping the image on highly textured, handmade Shan paper.

The collection of seven limited edition prints combines his background as a sailor and a wish to “incorporate images of not only pirates, but also sailors and sea and the ocean”, with his love of telephone poles, with which he admits to being “a little obsessed”.

The second technique, which has resulted in the 21 paintings that form the bulk of the exhibition, also uses a stamping technique but this time with repeated words that build up the tonality of each painting.

“It’s a nice activity, not meditation, but it’s quite relaxed and you have to be quite patient. You can’t rush it because if you make a mistake it’s difficult to repair,” he says.

“I think the technique is becoming more sophisticated but the attitude and the message is still [in keeping] with my background and the type of art I like,” he adds.

Critical to this is a process of deconstructing photographic images, which are mostly taken by the artist, before modifying and reconstructing them into artworks with new meanings.

One of the best examples of this is his painting of an elephant with an enormous transformer on its back. The painting was inspired by a trip to Kachin State that included a visit to see working elephants in a forest. One particular moment where the elephants went back to work after lunch stuck in his mind.

“They were just walking on the trees creating this big scar, this path in the jungle … I was thinking what would happen to this area if they proceed with the [Myitsone] dam and I was thinking that maybe it would become a big scar.

“The transformer represents a huge need for electricity but there’s also a cost to it.”

Casper Johannson’s “BETA Version” exhibition will open on the roof of Pansodan Gallery (286 Pansodan Road, Kyauktada township) from 4pm on December 10. The opening night will also include live music performances. The exhibition will continue until December 17 in the main gallery space, open from 10am to 6pm daily.