Alex and I met in the EKA GD MA program, where I had the opportunity to study alongside him and gain insight into his world. If there's anyone who can surprise me with their stories, it's definitely him. From his childhood adventures to his humorous reactions to various annoyances, there’s an angel hidden behind his mask. I decided to pay him a visit and spend some time with my old friend to see what he has been up to since we parted ways after graduating from EKA.
Can you tell us how you found your way into graphic design? – My current workshop used to be my screen printing studio, and I thought graphic design was something I could pursue, since printing and graphic design are intertwined. My dad also did a bit of graphic design himself, so this path felt natural to me. I believed that learning graphic design would be practical because I assumed that it would be a surefire way to earn money—was I ever wrong! I also realized early on that I wasn’t going to be an Artist with a capital A.
What do you mean by ‘Artist with a capital A’?– I think I couldn’t really envision myself making artwork solely via some sort of divine artistic inspiration or passion. Graphic design typically starts with some kind of input. That’s also why I began making furniture recently; furniture always serves a practical purpose. There’s no need for an elaborate thought process — if it’s a chair, you sit on it. I appreciate the freedom of creating something that doesn’t require extensive explanation to be considered valid. I maintain my aesthetic while crafting items that have a function. I find that often the conceptual value emerges during the process of creating—thinking through making—and I believe there’s nothing wrong with that.
A poster for an art auction that was featuring explicit and sexually-themed artworks.
Technology has taken over most working processes these days, turning handdrawn sketches to digitalized illustrations, analogue photographies to high resolution images and real-life objects into reality-like renderings. In these digitalized times, the collaboration between Aleksandrs Breže and Andris Eglītis comes as a surprise. Turning the usual working process upside down, the duo came up with the idea to repaint a rendered poster and blur the line between nature and technology.
How did you feel about your studies at different institutions, where you had to open up your process or conceptualize it?– From my experience I’ve found that people tend to artificially over-sophisticate and conceptualize their work and research. For me it's much more simple… lets just cook and see where it leads us.
Now, it would be good to ask how you ended up at EKA GD MA and if you could tell us about some of the projects you worked on there?– I felt a strong urge to study more and escape Amsterdam after completing my BA at the Rietveld Academy. I felt trapped in my apartment and wanted a change, so I applied for the master’s program and was accepted. Honestly I don't recall doing much graphic design during my MA—aside from creating a poster for a beach party and some booklets for a sound event that ultimately ended up being burned in the forest. I do remember designing a poster for Bart, which was probably my most graphic design-oriented work.
For my graduation project, I built a seaworthy raft—a long process that involved collaboration with Paula Buškevica. When it comes to artwork I can easily lose myself in the process, but deadlines motivate me to push forward. While many of my classmates had already made significant physical headway on their grad projects, Paula and I worked through the planning stage for quite a while. Eventually we managed to construct the raft, and then the conceptual content began to manifest when we sought to incorporate historical context into the project. We decided to travel down a river upon which, during the 20th century and particularly in the 1920s to 1940s, wooden logs were floated from Strenchy to the harbor in Riga. This practice was crucial for trade and industry in Latvia, where timber was a vital resource, facilitating the export of timber and contributing to the local economy. It turned into a multi-day trip, and we lived on the raft, much like people used to do with the logs.
What happened when you went down the river?– On the second day we began to seriously question how this was a graphic design master’s project. We realized we needed something to showcase at an exhibition. Paula and I started carving an alphabet into the raft’s surface, aiming to create a typeface, but it felt like a ridiculous idea. In the end, we created little books about the trip, and they turned out quite nice. That project made me realize I didn’t want to pursue graphic design anymore.
Haha, to be honest, I don't really recall you doing much graphic design in the MA either. But I do remember your thick tick poster!– Yes, I believe that even if graphic design is involved, physical aspects (such as the raft) have always been the primary focus of my practice. Graphic design always seemed to be a last-minute addition.
Identity for “Riga’s Smallest Auction“
What is your relationship with graphic design now?– Every time I open InDesign, I feel a wave of depression; even now, when I help my dad with some things, it gives me anxiety. That's why I dropped all my clients right after graduating from EKA GD MA and decided to focus on making physical and tangible work instead.
I've noticed you've started creating more furniture, installations and artworks. Are you naturally crafty?– Not really, I mess up quite a bit. With skills I somewhat possess, I can visualize the assembly process well and consider all the details. However if I think about something for too long, I lose interest. I have a short attention span and tend to get distracted and obsessed with other things. For instance, there was a time when my studio mate and I decided to build a shelf for our space. I kept getting sidetracked by other tasks to the point where he had to repeatedly vie for my attention. That’s why I make a lot of attention-related mistakes. Since I’ve been working more with metal I’ve been going to this one guy who is by this point well-acquainted with my process, so he always make sure to double-check my measurements.
What’s the story behind the rock on the table?– I wanted to create a table with a rock surface embedded in steel. I was unsure where to look for the type of rock I was interested in, and ended up going to the beach where found this massive one—this is half of it. I asked a masonry guy how much it would cost to finish the surface, but it was too expensive so I decided to learn how to do it myself. I spent about two weeks chiseling away at the rock. I had no clue what I was doing, but in the end, I managed to get the surface pretty flat and even made this little bowl. Now, I’m having some technical difficulties figuring out how to cut the shape into the metal for it to fit, but I have some tools to help. I was surprised to discover you can just go to the beach, find a random rock, and create something nice. I spoke to someone about geology, who explained that this rock formed over thousands of years from materials compressing in the ground. You can see these lines—the white line here is offset, and the misaligned cracks indicate a micro earthquake happened, shifting tectonic plates. So this is also what I mean by the concepts or stories evolving in the making process.
One of the first tables made three years ago.
I’d like to come back to your recent works and furniture. Can you tell me about some of them?– Sure. This is one of the first tables I made about 3 years ago.
Is this one of your earliest experiences working with metal?– Oh no, actually my first encounter with metal was at Rietveld, unknowingly. One day I hadn’t completed a homework assignment, and with only 15 or 20 minutes until the presentation, I thought, "Okay, I need to make something quickly that doesn’t look last-minute." I figured if I created something from metal, they’d believe I hadn’t rushed it. So, I watched a quick YouTube video on welding and dashed to the metal workshop. I grabbed the welder without understanding how it worked—just from that YouTube video—and welded a little metal frame with two legs, hung some random items in it, made up a story, and it looked like I’d spent time on it because it was solid and metal.
I truly enjoyed working with metal, but after moving to Estonia I became captivated by woodworking. Believing that this was my true calling, I set up a workshop dedicated to it. However, I soon discovered that wood is a challenging material, as it comes with a myriad of nuances to consider. With metal, you don't have so many options and mostly it's just stainless steel, aluminum, brass, and regular carbon steel. But with wood, there are all these types, each with different properties. They expand in one season and dry out in another, which can lead to cracks, and I don’t like that at all. I find metal easier to work with; it’s physically harder but easier in practice. You weld it, and that’s where it stays—it doesn’t move, which is really nice. That’s how I started doing small metal projects. Before I even began welding in Riga, I was cutting things with plasma and just connecting them; it was pretty straightforward.
Personal exhibition, “OPTIMISM-CONFIDENCE-CHARITY”, 2023
I also remember your playground project at the Rietveld Academie when you built displays as your graduation project.– Yeah, that’s where I really learned basic welding for the playground structure. It was exciting then, but looking back, I feel my forms and shapes have evolved a lot. You can always see that there’s a graphic design background in these pieces. I notice that with many designers who study graphic design; when they start making furniture, they can never quite escape that graphic design ‘curse’, you know?
Where do these shapes come from? What influences them?– Some of it might be influenced by the churches in England, where I was sent to boarding school. I’m not religious but I had to attend church three times a week. In one of my first personal exhibitions in Riga, I even created a prayer chair where you can kneel. The entire exhibition reflected my experiences there. I guess my aesthetic can also reference tribal aesthetics, which emerged from religious elements and Art Nouveau. That said, I feel my style is now moving in a different direction the more I draw these shapes. They’ve become a bit more fluid and softer.
Graduation project in Gerrit Rietveld Academie.
What’s a trend you dislike?– It’s not really a trend, but I get annoyed when I see people on TikTok or Instagram Reels post their (in my opinion) tasteless art—like beautiful butterflies—and everyone comments, "Omg, it’s so beautiful! I want it on my wall!"
So does that mean you think art should be dark and heavy?– No, it's not about that; you can go ahead and make your butterflies…
But they just have to be gothic or demon butterflies– I actually made a metal butterfly for a rave once. Ultimately I think everyone should create whatever they want.
View from a solo show Succumbing to Temptation by Aleksandrs Breže, Kogo Gallery, 2024. Photo: Marje Eelma
Are you influenced by trends?– Aren’t we all to some extent? Everything you create comes from something you’ve seen, intentionally or not. You can't really control that. In any art or design there are always references, whether they’re explicit or subconscious. Nothing comes out of thin air.
Do you think originality is a myth?– Yeah, definitely. Kirby Ferguson said, "Everything is a remix." Everything is a remix of what you’ve seen and heard. I’ve often envied those tortured artists who spend all their time in studios just painting and creating. I’m quite jealous because I’ve never been able to work that way. For me, it always starts with an idea that’s already visualized in my head, and sometimes elements transform during the process. I occasionally think about just going to the studio and making something, but I can’t—I need it to already excite me in some way.
You mentioned you also sell your work...– Yeah, but I find it quite difficult to sell art pieces. That’s one of the reasons why I’m hesitant to use the title "artist." I’ve noticed that when a piece has some functional aspect—meaning it’s not just decoration—it’s much easier to sell it as a table, shelf, etc. During my exhibition at Kogo Gallery, for which I created a sculptural centerpiece, people were much more interested in the bench I had made because it had a function. It seems to offer a way to engage with art that's not just for looking.
How do you determine the price?– I have a philosophy that it's more about my mental wellbeing. Especially with artwork, since I'm not expecting to make a living from it, I try to keep the prices low because I’m far happier if my work ends up in someone’s home rather than staying in my studio.
So, what’s your next project?– I’m going to Colombia to ride horses.
Breže is passionate about the narrow distinction between contemporary art and object design – how the first can be domesticated and the latter used for contemplation. His art delves into the struggle for individuality amidst enforced conformity. Through abstract spatial installations, he explores the clash between written laws, religious values and the harsh reality of institutional control. Breže has a proven talent for intricately weaving sculptural narratives, for example, when reflecting memories from his upbringing and study years, as notably showcased in his debut solo exhibition Optimism-Confidence-Charity (2023, LOOK! Gallery, Riga).
Aleksandrs Breže (1994) graduated from the Graphic Art Department at Gerrit Rietveld Academie (Amsterdam) and the Estonian Academy of Arts (Tallinn). Together with artist Armands Freibergs, he runs the project Subframe.xyz, which evolves around an interest in the relationship between the human body, our environment, graphic design, technology and material science.