This dog only knew that barking

2020
'Time out of joint' (group exhibition)
Cultural Foundation 'Ekaterina'. Moscow, Russia
papier-macher, rigging, polystone
165х165х165 cm
Dear Peter Alexandrovich,

I’m writing to tell you about an unpredictable problem that has occurred.
Your dog has lost. We haven’t seen her for 4 days.
We can’t find her anywhere. It disappeared all of a sudden… she went away. She wasn’t at home as we were calling her again and again… but there was no reply. We were looking for her in the yard, but unfortunately everything was in vain. We had no clue what to do. We even bought her favourite cheese in the hope that she would sniff it somehow and come back. In the end, we had to eat it by ourselves.
Yet you have a nice dog. Her eyes are both kind and clever. It was her who I often spoke to and shared my thoughts with. Both of us didn’t fancy people. She was a sort of my personal guard from the outer world. Together we were on our own, having power in our closed nature and hatred of anyone or anything. I hope she has just gone deliberately… gone to her 'insular consciousness'. Somewhere not far from her. But you know, Peter Alexandrovich, to be honest the dog made us irritable by her endless barking. Yes, she was stunning and her eyes were kind, but the beast’s bark was unbearable. All in all, I’m sorry that she was lost. Dogs bark a lot, because they are dogs.
But not so much! I’m sorry, Peter Alexandrovich, saying about her that way. Still she gave me so much delight.
However, I have no clue what to do.
Дорогой, Пётр Александрович.

Пишу Вам по поводу непредсказуемо возникшей проблемы.
Пропала Ваша собака. Мы её не видели уже четыре дня.
Найти нигде её не можем. Пропала она внезапно, просто взяла и исчезла. Дома её нету, зовём зовём, не откликается. Вышли во двор поискать, искали искали, не находится. Что делать, не понимаем. Даже сыр её любимый купили, в надежде, что она как-то его учует и вернётся. Пришлось самим есть.
Всё же хорошая у вас собака, мало того что глаза у неё добрые, так ещё и умные. Часто говорил я с ней, мыслями делился, а людей мы вместе не любили. Она была охранником моего мира от внешнего вмешательства. С ней я чувствовал, что мы сами по себе, что мы сильны своей закрытостью и ненавистью ко всему. Есть у меня надежда, что она просто ушла, осознанно ушла в какое-то своё «островное сознание». Где-то недалеко. А знаете что, Пётр Александрович, если честно, она вообще-то нас раздражала своим вечным лаем, гавкала безумолку. Красивая она конечно, и глаза добрые, но слышать лай этой твари было невыносимо. Всё равно жалко, что пропала. Собака, на то и собака, чтобы лаяла.
Но не так часто! Вы уж простите меня Пётр Александрович, что так грубо о ней. Всё равно она мне много радости приносила.
Что делать теперь, понять не могу.

The central object in Stasia Grishina’s installation "This dog only knew that barking" is a conditionally minimalist sculpture. It clearly references the work of Sol LeWitt, who created the so-called open structures—skeletal objects in which the artist, by working with outlines, deliberately rejected the “filling” of the form. However, it is also worth mentioning another artist with whom LeWitt frequently corresponded: Eva Hesse. Like him, she explored repetition, seriality, and process in art. Yet her method, as art critic and curator Lucy Lippard described—particularly in a 1966 exhibition—was not minimalism, but rather eccentric abstraction, which instead offered a bodily critique of minimalism. These were also cubes and other spatial objects, but theatricalized, open situations tied to physical sensation, ambiguity, and accident.

Grishina’s cube, covered in papier-mâché, is rough and lumpy—resembling a blurred, imprecise version of a Sol LeWitt structure. This central object is linked to another protagonist in the installation: a highly curious dog. This is compelling, since in art history, beginning in the 1960s, the cube came to symbolize the artwork itself—its zero degree. For Grishina, however, an artwork is not something elevated or situated in a purified context, such as a gallery’s pristine white cube. Here, it is simply an object that has drawn the dog’s attention—inviting us to view the artwork from an animal’s perspective.

What emerges is a contrast between a cosmic, ambiguous art object and an everyday dog who stumbles upon something strange and thoroughly sniffs it. This is a theatrical, quasi-architectural installation that resembles a play—its main narrative centered on the relationship between humans and animals. It opens up a space of interspecies collaborations, a long-standing interest in Stasia Grishina’s practice.

Boris Klyushnikov