The composition worlds of the Kosmos artwork by Nina Rantala

How do we perceive the changing compositions of humans and non-humans and the different rhythms of time? In the Kosmos piece by Rantala, the red oak, the ant nest, the paths and the tarred wooden structure move in their individual time, together. Art historian Riikka Niemelä and artist Nina Rantala sat down with the Kosmos artwork in the park of Saari Manor in the summer of 2022. Now, as spring is here, the wood structure is again being covered with another coat of tar.

In the meadow stands a small wooden building covered in dark tar, bearing a subtle resemblance to an old church with its roof shingles and spires rising toward the sky. In warm weather, the smell of tar greets you from afar. The hewed structure is overshadowed by the squiggly shapes of the old trees in the manor park. Opposite, a young red oak grows, connected to the wooden structure by a carefully formed sand path. Nearby is a nest of a colony of ants, from which other paths branch off into the grassy landscape. 

Nina Rantala’s Kosmos (2021) tells the story of worlds that form compositions. Dwelling by the piece allows you to think about the complex systems which take shape and disintegrate over time, and in which man is not the only actor. Kosmos is not only about the form and order given by man but, to quote anthropologist Anna Tsing’s concept, about contamination, the transformation created during encounters. Rantala’s work also leaves room for other actors. It takes shape through slow material processes and is intertwined with the rhythms of the surrounding nature. Kosmos as a work of art is not immutable and precise, but a constantly ongoing event; random interaction, changing compositions, the dynamics of emergence.

According to Tsing, in the Anthropocene era we must abandon anthropocentrism and learn to perceive the shifting human and non-human compositions and the different rhythms of time. Rantala’s work provides an opportunity for this. Kosmos intertwines the form shaped by a human with other methods of creating a world. The ants are building a rising hill that forms a dome for their underground city. The red oak grows and changes its appearance with the rhythms of the seasons. In summer, the meadow flora covers the planks brushed with dark tar; in winter, the wind piles up snowdrifts against them. The work as a process and shared authorship have been important in Rantala’s artistic work; and in line with this, Kosmos is also not at rest, but has been left in the park for nature to continue the work. Neither the work nor the authorship are definite. 

Builders of forms

Fire has charred the planks of the wooden structure on the pond side to a shiny sheen and rounded their edges into undulating shapes. Standing silently on the grassy ground, the structure is reminiscent of a church that has succumbed to arson. It was born out of Rantala’s interest in sacred buildings that are destroyed but then rebuilt. Already in her earlier work (Rebuilding the Church I, 2007), Rantala called for the rebuilding of the Porvoo Cathedral that was burnt down deliberately. Kosmos with its dark shape evokes the skilful creations of architects of the past and the craftsmanship of builders; the mute stave churches with their ornate wooden structures that for centuries have been protected by a thick coat of tar.

In Kosmos, Rantala feels that it is important to see the picture as a whole. The work is structured by basic forms, the cornerstones of human mathematical thinking. Near the angular wooden structure at the foot of the red oak tree, a precise circle of sand is drawn, as in the Japanese Zen gardens or the geometric formal gardens of the Baroque period. In the manor park, Kosmos is surrounded by nature that man has shaped to conform to his needs. Rantala’s work with its layers of meaning include products of human culture; manifestations of the sacred, landscape architecture, mathematical thinking and the philosophy of the universe. But the work is not only about human achievements, but it is also interwoven with other ways of creating worlds.

Over time, the graceful red oak will grow and change the proportions of the work. Its trunk will be fortified by annual rings and its canopy will rise higher than the sacred temple’s spire. In ancient cosmologies, the mythical world tree, not man, formed the centre of the world. In Rantala’s Kosmos, the roots of the red oak burrow into the ground and change the ecosystem of the soil. The philosopher Emanuele Coccia points out that it is plants that are capable of creating a world: the artesans of the cosmos, skilled builders of forms that transform matter, air and sunlight into a habitat for other living beings. According to Coccia, plants are one with their surroundings and take part in the world more than other species. The piece of land and sky that they claim as their own represent the essence of the world.

The Event of Place

In the courtyard of the Saari Manor, Kosmos forms a part of the events that slowly change its appearance. The routine of the sun’s rotation fades the dark walls of the wooden structure and its UV rays harden the tar. In winter, it is at the mercy of the frosty and damp weather. The wooden structure also changes the conditions at the site. Plant species that do not thrive in direct sunlight are attracted to the shade provided by the structure. They attract companion species such as mushrooms, spiders or other plants. The tar changes the biota of the site: its chemical compounds repel some insects, and the practice of applying tar makes the wood undesirable for small organisms. The wind is forced to find new routes, even though it still blows under the structure resting on the rocks. At ground level, the wooden structure creates a new kind of microclimate.

The site-specific nature of Kosmos can be understood by shifting one’s thoughts from the form given to the work by man to the world that merges with it, a series of moments of togetherness. Cultural geographer Doreen Massey conceptualizes a “place” as an event in time and space. A place is a temporary formation, produced by fluctuating relationships. Instead of a fixed location, a place is a process, a weft of stories in constant motion. Interaction creates motion in a place and, therefore, “here” is just one of the encounters, part of the cumulative history of the place. Massey refers to this by characterising a place as a “sphere of throwntogetherness”.

In the course of time, many paths will intersect with Kosmos. The thrush has found a peaceful nesting place in the wooden structure. Many other species may find shelter in the structure as well. The covered structure provides dry ground for small birds, or even foxes that venture close to humans. A viper may use it as a shelter and lizards may keep themselves warm on the cornerstones on which the structure rests. In autumn, insects may burrow into the crevices of the wood to hibernate. According to Massey, places raise the question of togetherness; in them, randomness brings us together with unexpected neighbours.

The idea of a place as an event also undermines the opposition between the categories of nature and culture. The physical world is not a coherent and unchanging foundation for human activity, but plants and animals also organise the world. The poles move, the ground is formed. A place as an event signifies encounters in a continuum of encounters, the diversity that stems from finding form together. On the lawn of the Saari Manor, the paths of the wood ant also pushed Rantala’s artistic thinking into motion.

Movement of matter

Every two years, the wooden structure of Kosmos receives a new coat of tar. Quite often, Rantala has also found interest in materials and the techniques of working with them. The traditional art of applying tar has protected wooden structures for ages. The dark shade of the coniferous tar coat on Kosmos has been created by mixing in some charcoal black. The tar is translucent and leaves the grain of the wood visible. In bright sunlight, fresh tar glistens on the surface of the wood like tiny diamonds. 

Tar is also part of the slow temporal change in Rantala’s work. Tar is persistent in its deformation. When applying the tar, it is warm and pliable, and it seeks to find its way into the pores of the wood. As the solid material cools down, it settles slowly and gives the wood a protective surface. The slow movement of the tar is difficult to detect with the naked eye. Applying tar on the wood changes the material transformation process of the wood, slowing down the rate of decay. When fresh, the tar is sticky. Insects and seeds flying in the air will cling to the surface of the wood to mark the season when the tar was applied. Over time, new coats of tar clump together on the wood surfaces to indicate the passage of years. In Kosmos, event flows not caused by humans and forms of temporality different from our own are also present; the rhythms of the day and the seasons, the schedules of plants, the slow movement of matter. 

The smell of tar drifts ahead of the wooden structure of Kosmos. It directs your thoughts to old ships, fishing nets, the bottom parts of skis and shingle roofs. Rantala’s work exudes memories of harbours and churchyards, the nostalgia of a bygone era. Scents and aromas have their own stories to tell. Laura U. Marks writes that smelling something is also an encounter with a chemical formation; a scent is the movement of molecules and material traces of the scent’s source. A scent affects humans, other animals, insects and plants. The smell of tar in Kosmos appeals to the ability to sense and to be aware as other beings do.

The art of observation

According to Tsing, we are not used to stories where the main characters are not human. Can a work of art tell us about varying compositions? What kind of compositions does Kosmos fit into and what kinds of non-human worlds are constantly being constructed alongside it? An observant viewer will notice the abundance of life surrounding the wooden structure of the work. As part of Kosmos, the ant colony creates its own kind of architecture with underground corridors and solar-powered heating systems. The ant hill forms its own system within Kosmos. 

Climbing on the grass, the worker ants, like humans, build our world. They forage in the nearby surroundings for food for the larvae, and for twigs, needles and leaves as building materials. The nutrient cycle between the hill and the environment affects soil acidity and the biota. The paths of the ants, and therefore the world they have built, can extend as far as several hundreds of metres. The ants of Kosmos  wander along their paths through the tops of nearby trees in search of energy resources from aphids. On the grass, they navigate by observing landmarks, such as the treetops against the sky. The may very well use the wooden structure of Kosmos and the red oak as a map. 

Art provides opportunities to revise our old ways of thinking and to tell stories in new ways. According to Tsing, the Anthropocene era requires the ability to perceive things differently. According to Donna Haraway, the art of living on a damaged planet requires an understanding of the ways in which things form and break down in sympoethic entanglement with each other. Kosmos provides an opportunity to take the intertwining wefts of events into account. 

Riikka Niemelä

The author is a contemporary art researcher and university lecturer in art history. She has often participated in collaborations between art and science and was introduced to Rantala’s work while working in the residence at Saari Manor.

Literature: 

Coccia, Emanuele, Kasvien elämä. Sekoittumisen metafysiikkaa (Helsinki: Tutkijaliitto, 2020).

Haraway, Donna, ”Symbiogenesis, sympoiesis, and art and science activisms for staying with the trouble”, in Anna Tsing et al. eds. Arts of Living on a Damaged Planet (Minneapolis & London: University of Minnesota Press, 2017), M24–M50.

Lowenhaupt Tsing, Anna, Lopun aikojen sieni. Elämää kapitalismin raunioissa (Helsinki: Tutkijaliitto, 2020). 

Massey, Doreen, For space (London: Sage, 2005). 
Marks, Laura, U., Sensuous Theory and Multisensory Media (Minneapolis & London: University of Minnesota Press, 2002)