Jurate Labanauskiene: “When Reason Recedes, Space for the Soul Appears”

Jurate is a master of relief painting and a resident of the Global Talent Confederation, who transforms forgotten objects and author-made details into deep philosophical images. Her style is a mix of Junk Art and Steampunk, where intuition rules instead of academic laws. In this interview, we talk about returning to creativity after 15 years of silence, about “cosmic freedom,” and about how to turn internal chaos into authentic art.

Philosophy of Style: From What Art is Born

Jurate, you don't just paint, you "sculpt" pictures using Junk Art, Scrap Art, and Steampunk techniques from seemingly "unnecessary items." What prompted you to choose these directions, and at what point did you realize it was easier for you to create by reimagining waste than by following traditional canons of painting?

I have always felt that true beauty lives not in perfection, but in the scars, scratches, and stories that things breathe. I am much more interested in bringing back to life what seems useless to others than in repeating academic painting once again. Recycled details store memory, and I create new forms from this memory. At some point, I realized: creating from waste is my natural state, as if I am returning forgotten human emotions to life, fusing them into a new body. Relief became a bridge between matter and feeling. But recently, I have been using only new details, because pictures are born in my thoughts and I make the details myself using my own technology.

You are increasingly creating details yourself using your own technology, rather than just using ready-made objects. Can we say that you are moving from the "aesthetic of saving things" (Junk Art) to creating your own, unique matter? How has this changed your creative process?

Yes, it really is a transition. Junk Art for me was always a dialogue with objects that had already lived their lives, their rescue and second wind. But today, I increasingly feel the need to create my own matter, my own body for the work. When I create the details myself, I don’t just find a form—I give birth to it. This gives more control in a technical sense, but simultaneously opens up even more “space.” Because the material born of my hands begins to speak to me much more intimately. I manage the process, but I don’t lock it down—I leave room for surprise, for error, for a living vibration.

You consciously did not receive an art education to remain free from academic restrictions. How do intuition and an innate sense of color, texture, and form help you "combine even the most incompatible colors, shapes, and ideas" in your unique style?

My school is life, and my teachers are intuition, a hunger for color, and a gaze deeper than the surface. I never wanted academic “thinking” because I didn’t want barriers between me and my feeling. During work, color is not born in the head—it is born in the fingers. I allow chaos to appear first!!!!! and then I guide it. Sometimes I say: “When the reason recedes, space for the soul appears.” And this is closest to me. I don’t like rules and restrictions. I like space and freedom.

The Artist's Path: Return and Sources of Power

Your path in art included a long break of 15 years. How difficult was it to return to active creativity after such a long interval, and what was the main catalyst that made you finally "open your soul through art"?

To be honest, I thought about this almost every day — well, tomorrow… on the weekend…, well, I’ll do this and then I’ll take up the paintings….. It was like opening a window after a long winter. At first, there was fear and uncertainty. But at the same time, it became my greatest liberation. The catalyst was one — the realization that the soul no longer wants to and cannot remain silent!!! The desire to create became stronger than the fear of being misunderstood, after all, I move in the beauty industry.

You live surrounded by nature, far from the city bustle. How do this silence and proximity to the wilderness reflect in the subjects and emotional content of your relief works?

City noise drowns out the inner voice, while nature reveals it. Living amidst wild silence — wind, rain, space — I hear myself much louder. Therefore, my reliefs are both about the human being, and about their loneliness, and about connection — about the entire palette of emotions of one who allows themselves to stop. Proximity to nature teaches something simple: if the roots are strong — you can grow in all directions.

Your life is filled with bright contrasts: from a fiery character to a love for melancholy and rainy Lithuania. If you could embody two different energies — rainy Lithuania and hot Spain — in one painting, what would that relief be like?

This painting would be contrasting but balanced. A deep, dark, quiet base — like the Lithuanian sky before rain. And out of it — exploding, sharp, burning elements, like a Spanish dance. “Lithuanian silence” for me is a structure, an internal frame. It doesn’t allow chaos to turn into noise. And “Spanish fire” is energy, movement, the courage to go to the end. Without the silence, the fire would burn; without the fire, the silence would be too cold.

Facets of Talent: Art, Business, and Discipline

You successfully combine creativity with entrepreneurship, being the founder of the Crystal Inlay Art championship. How do these two, seemingly different spheres mutually enrich your life and philosophy?

Business teaches me discipline, art — freedom. The championship created a community where people dare to create from small details — this is also a relief, just on a different scale. Both spheres are about working with hands and the courage of the heart. They feed each other like two rivers merging into one stream.

How much does the jewelry-like precision of working with crystals in your beauty activity influence your large-scale relief paintings? Do these skills help to tame the raw forms of Junk Art?

The jewelry experience shaped me much more strongly than I sometimes realize. Working with crystals taught me patience, respect for detail, and the understanding that even the smallest point can change the breath of the entire composition. These skills help a lot in large-scale relief works — even when the form looks rough or chaotic, precision still lives inside it. I don’t try to “tame” Junk Art — rather, I allow the discipline of the beauty industry to become its internal skeleton. These are two worlds that seem opposite, but in me, they connect naturally.

On the World Stage

You have been a member of the Global Talent Confederation for over a year. What changes have occurred in your work, what events or exhibitions were realized during this period?

The project opened not only doors for me, but also windows: into international visibility, into a community of like-minded people, into new challenges. During this time, my works found their way to other continents, and my relief technique found a more mature voice. The main thing is — I felt that my voice is being heard, but so far not everyone understands such a technique, especially when participating in a competition, it is difficult to convey 3D through a photo.

In November of this year, you visited the ART TOUR GTC in Spain. How was the tour, and what impressions or meetings turned out to be the most inspiring?

It wasn’t just a trip — it was a meeting with myself. The meetings, the contrasting characters of the artists, the rhythm of Spain — everything reminded me: art is alive only when you dare to be yourself. The most inspiring moment? The realization that my reliefs speak a universal language — even when no one knows my words. And most importantly — I couldn’t even imagine that I would find so many friends from different countries.

Meaning and Challenge: Demons, Scars, and Triumph

Not everyone immediately understands your original style. How do you handle criticism that considers your work "nonsense," and how do you maintain faith in your "little imps" and "demons"?

I realized long ago: criticism often says more about the critic than about the work. To understand my work, you need to look not with your eyes — but with your scars. I believe in my little “demons” and “imps” because these are the parts of us that we hide. One day, each of them will find someone who feels their meaning.

You noticed that people are starting to fear your creative "fire" less. What will be the moment of absolute triumph for you — when your works sell for millions or when a random passerby cries at your painting?

I think both the world and I have changed. People are indeed becoming more open to strong, uncomfortable art, but I have also learned to speak through fire more softly. My “demons” haven’t gone anywhere — I haven’t smoothed them over, but I made them recognizable. Absolute triumph for me is not the numbers in a bank account. Real triumph is when a person stops, forgets about time, and allows themselves to feel. If someone cries at my wall of faces and hands — that will be the ultimate meaning of my art.

Future and Legacy

Your dream is to create a huge painting on a wall made of faces and hands. What message do you want to convey to the world through this large-scale project?

Faces are emotions, hands are actions. A huge work created from faces and hands is, for me, about the connection between people: about how we touch each other, form, destroy, and lift up. The technical challenges are great — from mounting systems to the scale. But the main challenge is to preserve human feeling in such a large format. I want a person, approaching the wall, to see not a surface — but themselves.

What main wisdom would you pass on to beginning artists who are afraid to be bold and follow their hearts?

Don’t be afraid to be strange and “cosmonauts.” Don’t be afraid to be “too much.” Don’t be afraid that not everyone will understand you. Creativity is not an attempt to be liked, but an attempt to remain yourself. If your heart burns — the world will feel the heat, even if it is scared of the fire at first. People are still scared of my fire, but not as they were two years ago. I believe, and you believe — the hour will come, and we will be spoken about loudly.

If in a hundred years someone finds your work in an abandoned place — what should that person feel first? What main emotion do you seal into your reliefs through time?

I would want this person primarily to feel life. To understand: this was created by someone who felt very strongly. The main emotion sealed in my works is truth. Not beauty and not shock, but authenticity. If in a hundred years my work is found in an abandoned place and it is still pulsing, still speaking — then I have done everything right.

Jurate's story is a reminder that art knows no bounds, and true talent always finds its way to the light, even after years of silence. Her relief worlds prove: when an artist follows their "fire," metal and plastic begin to breathe, and scars turn into authentic beauty. We thank Jurate for her sincerity and look forward to the realization of her large-scale dream.