JŪRATĖ STAUSKAITĖ, GRAPHIC ARTIST
JŪRATĖ STAUSKAITĖ, GRAPHIC ARTIST
I’ve reached the last phase in my life that’s both valuable and mature, yet I still experience pain. Only the nature of the pain has changed, and I’m more willing to come to terms with it. Ever since I was young, I’ve felt incapable of pursuing a professional path as I was constantly rejected.
After restoring independence, I was excited to create intellectual things that would foster a society of creative and free people. I aspired to establish an art school. I received some enthusiastic support, but there were also those who said that it was an audacious idea and that I was a woman and could not start a school. To prove them wrong, I had to demonstrate I was three times more talented than any man.
I wanted to fill the gap in artistic education in Lithuania and that was my civic position. In 1991, we launched the first private art school for children and youth in Vilnius. Collaborating with accomplished artists, we developed programs and published textbooks. Not all of our students became artists, but to this day I meet people who express gratitude for the years they spent at our school.
I wanted to share the accumulated knowledge and skills beyond the boundaries of my school. I was confident that our programs would work well in secondary schools. Thus, from 2005 to 2007, together with professional artists, we produced art textbooks that were approved by the Ministry of Education for use in educational curricula. I made all this for Lithuania and I hoped that the state would use those resourses.
Unfortunately, our programs were not in demand. People claimed that they were only suitable for children and were limited to private schools. Some even suggested that I was solely interested in making money. I never received a clear explanation and considered talking to the minister about the lack of interest, but both the ministers and the procedures change so quickly, I don’t know whom to talk to anymore. When I read about the general education art programs, I can’t help but feel sad and frustrated, thinking to myself: What on earth are they doing? I have my reasons why this is not working out.
I devoted half of my life to establishing an art school which unfortunately came at the cost of neglecting my own creativity. I don’t belong to any art circles, I never receive invitations to participate in expert councils or commissions, and there are no art critics analyzing my work. Why? I asked a friend about this and she told me that my position was awkward.
I feel sad that the work I have done is no longer interesting to the modern world. The rapidly advancing world scares me, as we cannot predict how it will continue to change humanity and our society. Only recently I have come to terms with the situation and realized I don’t want to march with the flag anymore, I no longer have the energy to lead the charge. It is difficult because the art school is like my baby.
Jūratė Stauskaitė, the founder of the first private art school in Lithuania after the restoration of independence, begins her day by looking at a portrait of writer Herman Hesse hanging above her bed. During the summer months, she retreats to a homestead in the forest where she not only creates, but also engages in gardening.
Interview by Juta Liutkevičiūtė
Translation by Emilija Ferdmanaitė
Archival photo of Jūratė Stauskaitė’s Art School for Children and Youth