The fascination with myth, spirituality, magic, and mystery has permeated artistic creation since time immemorial. Even in eras when humanity leaned toward “rational” explanations and science-based evidence, there were always those who turned their attention toward the spiritual. It is no surprise, then, that our own time is no exception. The 21st century has brought with it a deluge of knowledge, scientific studies, technological breakthroughs, and the massive spread of both information and disinformation. This often leads to the notion that what lacks “rational” substantiation becomes inherently mysterious, or, for some, even forbidden. But what exactly does “rational” mean?
“Magic replaces science, belief replaces knowledge, ritual replaces rational action.” (Charlesworth, 2022). With these words, British writer and critic J. J. Charlesworth reflects on the spiritual turn of the 21st century in his article The Return of Magic in Art. His interpretation of the rising interest in spirituality, particularly within the arts, is framed through the lens of capitalist society: a highly relevant, yet distinctly Western perspective[1]. Within this context, themes of myth, magic, and ritual are closely intertwined with the legacy of colonialism, where such motifs, extracted from colonized territories, were exploited as exotic and mysterious, or as carriers of content deemed “rationally” inexplicable.
This text does not focus on artists whose work centres solely on myth, magic, or spirituality. Instead, it highlights female artists who incorporate these themes into specific works; artists who reflect on such subjects but are not consumed by them, using them instead as mirrors for contemporary society or as symbolic tools to communicate complex ideas succinctly.
Specifically, we will look at millennial women artists from Latvia[2] and the Czech Republic who engage with these themes organically. Elements of mysticism and the mysterious are intrinsic to their inspiration. As mentioned earlier, they use such elements as foundational layers for building complex narratives and motifs. The narrative aspect of their work becomes a means of shared knowledge and a vehicle for collective expression.
One such complex work imbued with mystery and the supernatural is the series Velnezers / The Devil’s Lake[3] by Latvian artist Vika Eksta. She has spent years exploring the area around Velnezers Lake in southeastern Latvia, a place wrapped in local legends and said to have healing powers, though no such claims appear in official mystical literature. Eksta initially began by photographing the surrounding nature and its changes over time. Later, she conducted interviews with visitors, particularly locals or those with personal ties to the lake due to its alleged mystical qualities, whom she also photographed. Her work culminated in a brochure featuring only images of nature and male visitors. She explained her decision by saying she first excluded random tourists, then women, as femininity was already represented by the natural elements. These were juxtaposed with the masculinity of the male portraits (Eksta, 2019).
During her 2018 Velnezers exhibition at ISSP Gallery in Riga, Eksta displayed not only photographs but also a cauldron containing coins thrown into the lake (for good luck), which she and her then-partner had retrieved. A Czech counterpart to such work with mystical objects can be found in the amulets made by Ester Krumbachová (1923–1996) during the normalization period, as well as in the work of contemporary artist Kateřina Houbová, who blurs the line between art and design in her ritual objects.
A motif inextricably linked to themes of magic is, without doubt, witchcraft—an area explored in the Latvian context by artists Ieva Kraule-Kūna and Ieva Balode. In her work Flesh to Flesh (2018), Balode presents witchcraft as it has been historically intertwined with healing practices. Through analogue film, incantation, and symbolic objects, she compares witch hunts to contemporary hostility toward feminists[4] and their contributions to society. Just as the so-called witches once healed or delivered children, feminists bring new ideas into the world, whether society approves or not. “Latvian cultural tradition is deeply rooted in mythology…. Mythological schemes can be used to explain the world, from the seasons and the origin of the Universe to life and death, and mythology also, to large extent, constructs women, gender and sexuality.” (Ansone, 2023, p. 30).
Kraule-Kūna’s multimedia installation Hot Babas (2019–2023), composed of objects and text, also engages with witchcraft and feminism. Triggered by the birth of her daughter, she reflects on the challenges her daughter will face in a society that still disrespects or even ostracizes women. “It’s about those ladies (‘witches’) who don’t meet society’s expectations,” Kraule-Kūna explains (Kraule-Kūna, 2023)
In the Czech context, Middevil: Maiden Wars (2022) by Marie Lukáčová and Alina Kleytman touches on similar themes. This video work centres on a witchcraft-related artifact that enables its bearer to fight without fear, aided by supernatural natural forces (Ištok, 2022). Once again, we encounter the theme of witchcraft intertwined with emancipation and other feminist issues. This reinforces the narrative that complex topics, in this case, witchcraft, are employed by the artists as a kind of shorthand to introduce a starting point or motif that requires no further elaboration, as it already carries sufficient symbolic weight.
The works in question do not focus solely on mythological or supernatural themes; they also encompass stories shrouded in mystery and long-held family rituals. In the Latvian context, this shifted form of myth can be seen in the work of Elīna Vītola, who, between 2021 and 2023, used her artistic research to unravel the life and legacy of her great-granduncle, a practicing artist during Latvia’s First Republic who went missing during the Second World War. As the layers of family history were gradually uncovered and the enigmatic aura surrounding the almost mythic figure of her great-granduncle began to dissolve, a tragic discovery emerged: he had likely been involved in organizing the Latvian Holocaust. In line with the notion of “rational” thinking mentioned earlier in this text, a truth once veiled in mystery was brought to light, one that carries a bitter reality[5].
Family myths primarily carry elements of identification and belonging, which in turn contribute to the formation of identity. In the Czech context, this theme was explored by sociologist Ivo Možný, among others. A similar kind of personal myth surrounded the childhood of another Latvian artist, Krista Vindberga (Dzudzilo), who, based on a claim made by her sister, long believed she had been adopted. In order to convince her otherwise and to prove she was, in fact, genetically part of the family, her relatives began pointing out visual similarities she shared with her ancestors: “Your hands are exactly like grandma’s, your nose is just like your mother’s, your ears are just like your grandfather’s” (Vindberga, 2023). Building on this almost ritualistic form of familial reassurance, Vindberga created the work We Are Born With The Dead (2014). The diptych consists of two parts: one made up of photographs of her ancestors, the other of a composite image of the artist’s own figure assembled from close-up fragments of those same photographs, taken from the relatives with whom she was said to share specific features.
A comparable approach to the family myth can be found in the work of Czech artist Kateřina Komm, particularly in the sculptural series Kodáda Rudá and Medzeba Holatá (It’s Nice When the Family Gathers for Dinner), as well as in the drawing series Family Tree from 2017. These works depict specific family members and moments across time, layering into a personal mythological narrative passed through generations, forming a complex and cohesive testimony.
Turning to myths embedded within the family but linked to spirituality—especially the problematic Christian spirituality of the Soviet era—one example is the 2023 multimedia installation Cut-Outs by Latvian artist Liene Pavlovska. The work tells the story of her father-in-law Jānis Pavlovskis, who in the 1980s produced wooden inlays depicting both romantic landscapes and portraits of Lenin for export or diplomatic gifting. However, in the quiet of his home, he secretly created religious inlays, images of the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ, as gifts for his mother. His religious conviction was not the driving force behind these works; instead, the spiritual imagery served as a token of affection and a carrier of symbolic meaning.
Spirituality, and the human need to believe in a higher force, often takes form in rituals that anchor and celebrate that belief. In Eastern Europe, religious rituals exist in both pagan and Christian traditions and have over time become integrated into local customs and calendars. These rituals, though once sacred, are now often unquestioned and no longer perceived as “magical.” Yet, from a rationalist standpoint, Christmas (celebrating a virgin birth) and Easter (celebrating resurrection) are undeniably steeped in supernatural elements.[6]
Christian ritual is also present in Vika Eksta’s 2020 work 33, created the year she turned thirty-three, traditionally the age of Christ at his death. Seeing this milestone as a moment of transformation, Eksta sought to “shed the old skin and make way for what is to come.” The thirty-minute video documents a day-long improvised performance on her family’s land, structured into four episodes, Birth, Who Am I?, The Cross, After, that echo the life and sacrifice of Christ (Eksta, 2020).
In the Czech context, artists such as Adéla Součková and Veronika Čechmánková explore ritual through the universal symbol of bread. Čechmánková’s Živa (2022) describes bread as “the most basic and most magical food, accompanying humanity since time immemorial, created and destroyed through the cooperation of the four elements—fire, water, air, and earth” (Čechmánková, 2022). Součková explores similar themes in the multimedia project Connectings II: The Patriarchal Pains of The Daily Bread (2021–2024), referencing fertility and harvest rituals.
Ritual, then, need not be bound to mysticism or obscured by secrecy. In today’s world, it can serve as a bridge across chasms we have built ourselves, a tool for overcoming inner barriers or opening up to others. In this regard, we can highlight the work of Diana Tamane in Latvia and Marie Tučková in the Czech Republic. Both artists use ritual and the body as vehicles for introspection, vulnerability, and reconciliation. Tamane’s watercolour series The Sea is You (2022–2024) explores cycles, menstrual and respiratory, using brushstrokes synchronized with breath. Through this ritualized gesture, Tamane reconnects with herself and underscores the necessity of recognizing humans as integral parts of the natural world. Tučková’s 2024 exhibition Wet Scores for Listening at hunt kastner gallery similarly explores themes of liberation and the interconnectedness of human, nature, and spirituality through watercolours, objects, and sound compositions.
The works of these selected artists present a multitude of ways to engage with mystical elements, hidden stories, family myths, and spiritual forms. Accepting these narratives as part of our shared world can serve as a counterbalance to excessive “rationality”, which, rather than aiding us on the path to (self-) understanding, (self-)acceptance, and openness, may actually hinder it.
Sources
ANSONE, Elita, KUKAINE, Jana, JANSONE, Rasa. Don’t Cry! Feminist Perspectives in Latvian Art: 1965–2023. Riga: Latvian National Museum of Art, 2023. ISBN 978-9934-538-47-6.
CHARLESWORTH, J. J. The Return of Magic in Art. ArtReview [online]. 30 May 2022 [accessed 10 April 2025]. Available at: https://artreview.com/the-return-of-magic-in-art/
ČECHOVÁ, Veronika. Dožínky / Harvest Home in the AVU Pop-Up Gallery. [online]. [accessed 24 April 2025]. Available at: https://avu.cz/aktualita/dozinky-harvest-home-v-pop-up-galerii-avu
ČECHMÁNKOVÁ, Veronika. Živa [online]. 2022 [accessed 15 April 2025]. Available at: https://artreview.com/the-return-of-magic-in-art/
EKSTA, Vika. 33 [online]. 2020 [accessed 13 April 2025]. Available at: https://www.vikaeksta.com/33
EKSTA, Vika. Interview by Diana Kněžínková with Vika Eksta on 19 September 2019 in Riga. Transcription available upon request.
IŠTOK, Rado, LARU-AN, Renan, SIKORA, Piotr, and the tranzit.cz collective. Guide to the Biennale Matter of Art 2022. Prague: tranzit.cz, 2022.
KRAULE-KŪNA, Ieva. Interview by Diana Kněžínková with Ieva Kraule–Kūna on 29 September 2023 in Riga. Transcription available upon request.
MLADIČOVÁ, Iva. Kateřina Komm – Viteál. ArtMap [online]. 2021 [accessed 18 April 2025]. Available at: https://www.artmap.cz/katerina-komm-viteal/
TUČKOVÁ, Marie. Video MARIE TUČKOVÁ: Wet Scores for Listening, 06/09 – 05/10/2024. hunt kastner [online]. 2024 [accessed 21 April 2025]. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=194oJrRALQ4&ab_channel=huntkastner
VINDBERGA, Krista. Online interview by Diana Kněžínková with Krista Vindberga (Dzudzilo), 26 August 2023. Transcription available upon request.
[1] In this context, it refers to North America and Western Europe, meaning the free part of Europe that was not under Soviet influence.
[2] The author has long been engaged in exploring the Latvian art scene. Currently, she focuses her research on the dissertation project Collective Memory Is Everything I Don’t Remember, which examines millennial-generation Latvian women artists. The specific artists featured are Ieva Balode, Krista Vindberga (Dzudzilo), Vika Eksta, Ieva Kraule-Kūna, Liene Pavlovska, Diana Tamane, and Elīna Vītola. The project can be followed on the Instagram account @collective_memory_is.
[3] Both earlier and recent works from the Velnezers / The Devil’s Lake series will be part of the exhibition Collective Memory Is Everything I Don’t Remember, taking place in Prague at the H40 space in March 2026. The curator of the exhibition is the author of this text.
[4] In the context of the late 2010s
[5] Works inspired by her great-granduncle, created before this discovery, will be presented alongside newly developed pieces exploring the themes of truth and coming to terms with it in Elīna Vītola’s solo exhibition Double Truth: Reveal, which will take place at the Emil Filla Gallery from 19 September to 9 November 2025. The exhibition is curated by the author of this text.
[6] It is also worth noting that it is no coincidence these holidays in our calendar fall on significant dates in the pagan calendar. Christmas coincides with the winter solstice celebrations, and Easter aligns with the spring equinox.
