Hedgehog, otherwise known as the friend of our national epic hero Kalevipoeg Kalevipoeg is the Estonian National Epic. and created by the founding father of Estonian literature Friedrich Reinhold Kreutzwald; the Naked Emperor created by the Danish fairytale author Hans Christian Andersen as well as local cartoon characters Mossbeard and Cameraman Kõps and their British companions Teletubbies, are just some of the figures who have acquired a new shape and significance through the work of stencil art star Edward von Lõngus, thereby conquering the streets of Estonia and Europe.
Security cameras, batons, handcuffs and firearms, laptops, selfie-sticks and drones, shopping carts and coffins – these are the accessories of the characters in question, making reference to the peculiarities of today’s society and consumerism that rely on our deepest instincts i.e. the subconscious need for power and control, information and connection, self-admiration as well as fear of death. They do so by mere suggestion, leaving space for the viewer [whether conscious art consumer or random onlooker] to enjoy their own fantasy and interpretation. Edward von Lõngus’ socially critical art does indeed point the finger but in a playful, rather than a moralising, manner. Tongue-in-cheek, he juggles images from the same system he criticises; an artist who also wants to sell us something – embodying the very idea of the instincts he purports to dislike.
It is in the nature of street art that you come across it as a random passer-by or in a dark alleyway, but increasingly, there is an effort to bring it indoors through representatives and dealers of the art world, as well as through art collectors. Lõngus’ works can be found both next to the rubbish bin on the exterior wall of a museum as well as in its exhibition hall.
Art gourmands are hunting his pieces in clean and well-lit auction houses. Those who cannot afford auction prices can always purchase a T-shirt with one of his motifs online and strike a few poses for social media. In this way the artist’s observations about society establish themselves.
Edward von Lõngus has named cave painters, Renaissance masters and pop-artists among his role models, all of them connected through a creative spirit that moves through time. His own career began with pasting full-scale black-and-white printouts of human figures onto exterior walls where they didn’t last long in the weather. Soon after, in 2008, a boot sole pattern emerged in the same arena. His first stencil – a type of graffiti in which the image is created using a cut-out template and spray paint – enabled the artist to work rapidly and efficiently. Efficiency and speed are essential for street artists, as it allows them to leave a recognisable identification mark in as many places as possible while avoiding being caught by law enforcement.
However, the police have intervened in Lõngus’ creative process – even when his grafitti was green-lit by authorities and his project (R)estart Reality selected to mark Estonia's presidency of the Council of the EU in 2017, the Republic’s 100th anniversary celebrations in 2018 and the artist’s tenth year of activity. Throughout this project, one that reached eleven capital cities of Europe, Lõngus’ witty characters were inspired by ancient Estonians as well as scenes from the “Dance of Death” (Danse Macabre) by the famous Gothic artist Bernt Notke who worked in the Baltic region.
While literally leaving his mark in many different cities, dealing with police was the rule rather than an exception for Lõngus. In Rome, for example, they questioned his permission to paint graffiti and the artistic team was left on the streets at night for hours, awaiting the conclusion of official procedures. It is worth mentioning that the very same project won the cultural prize of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Lõngus has also received the title of Honorary Cultural Ambassador of Tartu City in the west of Estonia (pop. 91,000). twice.
“In Rome, we stayed in a strange basement apartment. Lõngus left his stencil block in the corridor and when he went to check in the morning, it was gone,” Kadri Uus, one of the coordinators of the project recalls regarding another incident in the ancient city.
“Later it was found next to the garbage containers in the yard. Apparently someone thought it was trash and carried the 20 kg package to the container. Considering the fact that the design and cutting out of the stencil is the most time- and labour-intense part of street art, we experienced a pretty scary moment thinking it was all gone.”
Kadri also remembers how they came upon a Teufelsberg street art festival in Berlin outside the official part of the project.
“At first the organisers reluctantly gave Lõngus a little spot behind a corner, but when they saw what he was doing, they immediately offered him more walls.”
Another one of the coordinators and the curator of the artist’s last retrospective exhibition, Andra Orn, recalled how they participated in a local street art festival in Helsinki. The Hedgehog [who is mentioned at the top of this article and also the artist’s personal favourite], was depicted working with his laptop on a tree stump and won second place in online voting organised by the Finnish newspaper Helsingin Sanomat.
The exhibition “Doomsday Cathedral”, which took place in the Tallinn Tallinn, the largest city and capital of Estonia (population 440 000). Biennale last summer served both as a retrospective and as a separate spatial experience. The elements of “The Dance of Death,” which until then had been only exhibited in parts, were now joined into a parade of steel plates reaching over 12 metres in length and weighing more than half a ton. Above the plates hung the ‘doomsday clock’ and in front ‘the mirror of truth,’ all crowned by a remix of Michelangelo’s fresco in the Sistine Chapel. The exhibition space – a former factory of nuclear electricity equipment – and the satellite exposition in a shopping centre added some spin to the dance. Where else could one address both destruction and crazy consumerism more vividly than in the spaces which produce it?
Various figures and shapes from cultural history were cut and pasted together to dance in the cathedral – Venuses by Willendorf and de Milo together with shop display mannequins; Estonian author Oskar Luts Oskar Luts was an Estonian writer and playwright. with Quentin Tarantino; Leonardo da Vinci with Stanley Kubrick. Eduard Wiiralt Wiiralt is an Estonian rock-band. ’s “Absinth Drinkers” from the 1930s Paris were transformed into today’s ‘joint smokers’ and the socialist-realistic composition of national grain policy merged with a capitalist version of national forestry policy.
In addition, posters from the Cold War era were displayed accompanied by Lõngus’ rhetorical question: “If a million apes equipped with typewriters are able to re-write all of the books by Shakespeare by pressing random buttons over a long period of time, what can 8 billion apes do, given with enough time, with 10,000 active nuclear weapons?” Although the ‘infinite monkey theorem’ which inspired the question is fortunately just a mathematical construct with zero probability of coming true, it is nonetheless thought-provoking.
The exhibition “Doomsday Cathedral”, now on virtual tour on the contemporary art platform noar.eu and accompanied by Taavi Tulev’s soundscapes, may give rise to similar reflections. And it almost goes without saying that the virtual tour provides a great tool for teachers to bring arts closer to their students. As Andra explains: “It could encourage everybody to discover the wider art world.”
By the way, as you may have guessed, the name Edward von Lõngus (meaning ‘slouch’ in English) is a pseudonym and his true identity a well-kept secret known to few others.