UNFRAME
— Mikelis Murnieks

For the second instalment of UNFRAME, we spoke with Latvian artist Mikelis Murnieks about the transformation of familiar objects into carriers of irony, allegory, and unexpected narratives. His installations invite us to look again at the ordinary and question what it might be hiding.

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Moving fluidly between sculpture and installation, Mikelis Murnieks constructs spatial narratives in which familiar objects are detached from their intended function and repositioned as carriers of irony, allegory, and social critique.

Industrial components, kinetic mechanisms, and everyday forms become part of carefully orchestrated compositions that question the invisible systems governing perception, behavior, and value.

Rather than offering fixed meanings, Murnieks’ installations operate as open-ended situations, inviting viewers to navigate the subtle tension between recognition and estrangement, humor and discomfort, functionality and fiction. It is within this delicate choreography of objects that his distinctive visual language continues to emerge, one where material itself becomes both narrator and protagonist.

"Extended Fling" 2021, 80x120, stainless steel, polyurethane, latex Photo: Filips Smits
"The Wizard of Oz" 2021, 65x70, steel, plexiglass, latex, polyurethane, varnish Photo: Filips Smits
"The Wizard of Oz" 2021, 65x70, steel, plexiglass, latex, polyurethane, varnish Photo: Filips Smits

Your creations often emerge through the transformation of familiar materials and everyday objects into something unexpectedly symbolic. At what point does an object stop being itself and begin to function as a narrative device within your practice?

I find myself becoming oddly interested in the most overlooked objects that catch my attention within the cityscape. It usually happens when an object is displaced and begins to shift away from its original meaning and function, taking on something new. It also follows in my creations – by presenting ordinary symbols in unordinary situations, I try to create a moment of misjudgment, or hesitation before recognition. Recontextualized objects, materials, and symbols in my sculptures uses principles similar to literary allegory, employing familiar forms to reveal and articulate broader sociopolitical narratives.

Building a semantic network around these objects helps me examine the relationship between their original and repurposed meanings. Whether those connections emerge from an object’s aesthetic qualities, function, or cultural connotations, they provide a rich framework from which to weave narratives. Once I have developed a deeper understanding of a subject, I can translate its underlying principles into seemingly unrelated processes that operate in analogous ways. This is the approach I took in Fountain (2023), where I drew a parallel between the psychological struggles of apes confined in toxic zoo environments and the pressures experienced by emerging artists within institutional art education systems.

“Neglected Blossoms I” steel, aluminum, digital print, spraypaint, varnish 70 x 95 2024 Photo: Peteris Viksna
“Neglected Blossoms II” steel, aluminum, digital print, spraypaint, varnish 70 x 95 2024 Photo: Peteris Viksna

Rather than simply supporting an idea, materiality often appears to generate meaning on its own and seems to play a role that goes beyond its physical properties. How do you coordinate the relationship between materials, intuition, and storytelling throughout the process?

Material properties play an essential role in the development of my projects. From the very beginning, my practice has been deeply hands-on. I was raised in a family of craftspeople and educated within an academic system that still strongly follows post-Soviet principles, placing a strong emphasis on craftsmanship and technical skill.

While some artists choose to work with a signature material, I try to avoid limiting myself to a single material or technique. Instead, I see the continuity in my practice lying in the thought process that transforms ideas into spatial sculptures rather than in the materials themselves.

I have great respect for materials as they embody generations of knowledge, experience, and craft. At a time when many artists use digital technologies to translate forms into physical objects, I choose to make most of my work by hand, seeking industrial look and precision while allowing small imperfections to give the object its character and presence. In most cases, I fabricate every component of my sculptures myself, which often requires learning new manual techniques and acquiring new skills along the way.

Every material carries its own history and a network of cultural associations that can already establish a narrative framework before any intervention. Stainless steel, for example, is an incredibly durable material. It is cold, impersonal, and widely used in public infrastructure and environments designed to withstand constant wear and heavy use. It is also commonly associated with institutional architecture, including prison furniture and other forms of controlled environments. Simply choosing to work with stainless steel, it already activates these associations, allowing the material itself to contribute to the meaning of the work before the viewer even begins to interpret its shape.

"March to May" in collaboration with syns.flowers, 2025, 70x70, steel, aluminum, wood, varnish, glass photo: Peteris Viksna
"Pavement Breakthrough" 2025, 70x95, steel, aluminum, tiles, wood, varnish photo: Peteris Viksna

“By presenting ordinary symbols in unordinary situations, I try to create a moment of misjudgment, or hesitation before recognition.”

"Daily Overburden" 2026, 95x70x10, steel, aluminum, wood, spray-paint, varnish Photo: Peteris Viksna
"Shadowbanned" 2026, 70x90x10, steel, plastic, wood, tiles, spray paint, varnish Photo: Peteris Viksna

There is a recurring sense of irony running through your installations, subtle rather than explicit, allowing humor and discomfort to coexist. Do you see irony as a critical strategy, a narrative tool, or simply as an inevitable consequence of observing everyday reality?

Usually it comes naturally. I often have great fun while moving through the city, noticing construction mistakes, architectural overdesigns, baffling human actions, and many other comedic aspects of the urban landscape. The misplacement of objects can be so ridiculous these days.  But to get back to the point, laughter can also function as a defence mechanism when your mind cannot fully comprehend what is being presented to you. So, for me, it is only natural that humour and discomfort can merge together and coexist. 

Although it comes naturally, it definitely works as a strategy, much like the idea that you should start a public talk with a joke. It helps to capture the attention of audience, set the tone, and once all eyes are on you, it becomes easier to unfold the narrative in greater depth. When a work is able to manipulate attention, the object itself becomes a power structure. 

"Ant Mill" 2024, 90x25x25, stainless steel, glass, waterjet Photo: Ansis Starks

When constructing an installation, how much of the narrative is intentionally composed, and how much only begins to emerge once the elements begin to occupy the space together?

There is always an intention, its there first, but when the idea is being transported into a shape, it can bring you to the scenarios that were not planned ahead. Often times when I do site speciffic installation or work on a sculpture already knowing its performative destination, the interraction between space and object generates new relationship that can amplify the original intention.

So I would say that the elements are usually composed purposefully, but arranging them in action on site often introduces layers that could not have been forecasted before. For example, when I was installing my very first installation “Art fo Gambling” in 2018 in the former university faculty building in Riga, it turned out that one of the doors had a brick wall behind it. I had no idea that would be the case when I picked my location, but the unexpected layer of the brick wall reinforced the sense of doom, amplifying the work’s reflection on the unethical sources through which the art scene is often financed. So already back then I understood that the site can be used as an extension of my sculptures as well. 

We often encounter objects as functional tools, yet your practice invites us to read them as carriers of memory, ideology, and emotion. Do you think sculpture still has the capacity to alter the way we perceive the everyday, or has that relationship fundamentally changed today?

For me sculpture functions as a messanger of alternative timeline where familiar forms can tell different narratives than in reality. Its no secret that human brain is set to find a reference or familiarity in everything unusual flashing infront of our eyes, so even surreal seems to feel somehow mundane. The narratives I squeeze in my sculptures are usually entangled with the historical and geographical specifics of the location where I am based or drawn from the architectural and material qualities of the cityscape around me. I believe that a sculpture carries more faith than a written text even if both of them arise from fiction. So in this case I see sculpture as a great way to expand material reality and perception around us. 

Boxes Photo: Peteris Viksna

As your work continues to gain visibility, how do you imagine your visual language evolving in the coming years? Are there new materials, scales, or territories you feel increasingly drawn towards but have yet to fully explore?

Well, even though I don’t have a strict development strategy, recently I have started introducing kinetic motion into my sculptures, where repetitive movement serves as a reminder of the loops we tend to get stuck in. For some time, I have been fantasising about trying my luck at traditional marble sculpting, and I think there is still enough to discover in sculpting with water, which I started exploring during my studies at the Dirty Art Department.

For the last five years or so, I have been based in Amsterdam, where I have been developing my artistic practice since completing my Master’s. But my hunt for greater expansion never ends. There are still so many things I want to try out. For now, I plan to work on the mentioned adventures, and I never skip a chance to work with institutions and galleries that see potential in my vision and ambition. ●

Portrait by Filips Smits

UNFRAME is an ongoing series of short interviews by O FLUXO dedicated to the people, ideas, and practices shaping today’s art landscape.

Through conversations with artists, curators, collectors, cultural practitioners, and other creative voices, the series offers a closer look at the thinking behind their work and the paths that have led them there.

By bringing together diverse experiences and viewpoints, UNFRAME creates a space for meaningful dialogue and invites readers to engage with art through the people who live, question, and shape it.

UNFRAME

An ongoing series of short interviews by O FLUXO exploring the ideas, perspectives, and practices of leading figures in the art world.

In this episode: Artist Mikelis Murnieks.

Photography: All images copyright and courtesy of their respective authors, photographers and, where applicable, the gallery. 

Header artist portrait: Filips Smits.

1st background: “Fountain” 2023, 110x95x110, petg filament, aluminum, stainless steel, waterjet.
Photo: Ricards Briska

2nd background: “Art of Gambling” 2019, 250x40x10, plexiglass, steel, LED.
Photo: Gatis Murnieks

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