Sidenote: stroopwafels are Dutch syrup waffles that I got seriously addicted to. You know, these ones.

Chapter I

As the end of my second year studying Media Production at my British university approached, I was faced with a choice – to go into the third and final year, or to have an international experience by going abroad to study and work. The third year for me carried a great deal of weight, as it meant producing the FMP – Final Media Project. Oh, how the nineteen-year-old Kipras dreaded those three letters. I started school a year before most kids, and my tendency to compare myself to others always left me feeling in some ways inferior. Therefore, when imagining myself in my third year, I didn’t think myself mature enough to produce a large work of great value. I wanted to pause time and let myself grow while the rest of the world stood still. Consequently, with little hesitation I applied to several universities in the Netherlands and ended up studying Fine Arts at the Minerva Academy – an art school in the cozy northern city of Groningen.

When I got accepted into the Academy, I pitched the idea to my girlfriend Irina, my Coventry University colleague. After some convincing, and to my delight, she applied and got accepted into the exact same course in the Netherlands. Hence, I say ‘we’ a lot in my writing. Having her by my side made every challenge a lot less intimidating.

Chapter II

At the end of summer, our adventure began. It started with a whole lot of stress. Looking for accommodation in the Netherlands while not being there proved to be a huge challenge, as every single landlord wished to have a viewing before letting anyone stay there. After two summer months of e-mailing agencies turned out fruitless, we were forced to spend our first weeks in Groningen at three different hotels.

The uncertainty of being semi-homeless had Irina & I losing hair. Eventually, though, after numerous viewings, we managed to find ourselves a cozy little 25m2 studio not far from the city’s centre. We later learned a surprisingly large number of the city’s incoming international students shared this housing problem – some even resorted to sleeping in tents outside.

When we were still crashing in different hotel rooms, we were at the same time being introduced to the institution that is Academie Minerva. In the art school, we joined the third years. I think in terms of bringing the exchange students up to speed, the teachers did not do the best of jobs. It took me a good month to begin getting a grasp on the academy’s work ethic. For context, in the first two years, the Fine Arts students were encouraged to experiment with everything. Every painter dabbled in sculpture, photography, installation, video; every photographer painted and performed - this was the background we weren’t there for. And then, in the third year, all the students were told “now – just make things!” That was the one thing I heard on my first day in a new school. For some, this would be a great relief – full creative freedom and little schedule and structure. But for me, it proved to be a certainly confusing first month. I found myself creatively constipated. I couldn’t help but feel like my photos and videos were inferior to my colleagues’ paintings and sculptures. It took some mental gymnastics for me to get over my self-doubt and start making things. The mild shock of going from my structured media course to the malleable Fine Arts was a challenge, but one I’m glad I overcame.

I eventually also got over the lack of lecturing and conventional tutor giving a monologue to students - the mode of teaching that is prominent back in Coventry. In Minerva, the dominant mode is discussion. Everyone’s ideas are welcome and heard. The thoughts of your peers are just as valuable as one of your tutors. I think this type of learning sparks many interesting ideas and is often truly inspirational.

Chapter III

A highlight of the year was a selective ‘OffCourse’ – Cities As Performative Object. We kicked off the course by re-enacting some noteworthy artists’ performances. After researching Sophie Calle and Vito Acconci’s work, we re-enacted their following piece. Essentially we picked a person in the street that stood out to us (or didn’t) and followed them secretly for as long as possible – for example until they entered a private space. It was a peculiar experience indeed. It sparked some interesting questions in my head. Could I tell just by following if that person could be my friend? How much can I learn about them? How similar is this to following on social media? These were all good questions that I will talk more on later.

Our next endeavor was Francis Alÿs performance, Sometimes Making Something Leads to Nothing – the Belgian artist pushed a block of ice in Mexico City around the streets for 9 hours until it melted away into a puddle. (https://vimeo.com/130838361) We were to repeat that – in Autumn in Groningen. We created the our ice block in a freezer, albeit not one as large as Alÿs’, and took it out in the streets for a spin.

In Francis’ video of his performance in Mexico, a thing I noticed was that passers-by seemed not to bat an eye at his peculiar action. Few people thought twice about a man lugging a huge ice block along the street. That was not the case in Groningen – everyone thought it was fascinating. Many eyebrows were lifted and many a heartfelt laugh was heard.

Chapter IV

Irina & I put in a lot of effort into the pre-production for a sequel of our following project that we eventually shot in Gran Canaria. We zoned in onto the main focus, which was this research question we were very curious to get an insight into: Can you learn more about someone by following them on social media or following them for real? We worked out a methodology to which we would stick when attempting our performance in the city of Las Palmas.

We began dabbling with some ancient photography techniques. We used pinhole cameras to create photos without the use of a sophisticated machine, but instead a mere wooden box and photographic paper.

We used the chemical printing methods of calotype and cyanotype, another alternative mode of photography. I really enjoyed the process and the result of this method. They were entirely novel ways of photography to me and were an interesting lens (:D) to look at the art.

these pictures were made by chemically treating paper, printing a special negative on a plastic sheet and then exposing the paper to UV light

We also traveled to Las Palmas and carried out our Canarian project. It proved a larger challenge than we envisioned but we did our best and were very satisfied with the result.

Chapter V

A thing we did a lot more of in Minerva than we do in Coventry was presenting and talking about your work. The tutors made it a weekly task of putting your creative output, finished or not, on display and talking about it. At the start it felt forced and odd, and I felt like I didn’t have much to say about my work. But the more we did it the more I got the hang of it and presenting was less difficult. Maybe it is because prepping to talk about your work gets you to analyze it yourself even more than you did making it. A lot of the work I do is less premeditated and more impulsive, so I’m glad I had many opportunities to dig deeper.

As our departure neared, we began prepping for life in another country and our next destination - Bucharest.

And so, as I am packing my life into boxes again, I reminisce: overall, the experience was exactly what I needed and craved. It made me realize what working as an artist will be like outside of school. Where if you’re making something by yourself, you may not have assignments and guidelines, and you really do have to just make stuff. It made me experience and experiment with new mediums, such as performance, that I haven’t even considered doing. I learned new techniques within the media I am more proficient in. And most valuable of all, I’ve had countless good, inspiring conversations with my peers and lecturers.