You can read about my education and past exhibitions in my CV. Here I will leave out all my schools and shows and show you something you wouldnt find in my resume. Something much more personal – how I think and how I create.
I am an avid observer. Not only of paintings, but of interesting shapes and groupings in my visual field. From time to time, while waiting at a tramstop, an interesting combination of colours created by people standing in front of a door catches my eye. I also adore neapolitan yellow coloured cars, they contrast with the violet grey of the asphalt beautifully! And so on. Apart from this I think it is no surprise that my other main source of inspiration is symbolism. And apart from that also for example Cyril Bouda's illustrations, dark rooms of old wooden cottages and all things absurd and tacky and out of the ordinary.
What else is typical for me? Maybe being analytical. At least in the art community this is not entirely common, to be an analyst.
Basically I like to work with the substance of things, even while painting. Thats why I do not use photographs but 'live' models. It is more difficult but it gives us deeper understanding of reality. My obsession with analyzing also shows in the fact that I mix all my paint from three basic colours and white. Almost all my paintings are done this way. I also like to study how this or that painting works. I have an unsatiable need to understand things.
On the other hand I am also chaotic. And when creating, intuitive. I am a synesthetic – that means that my brain has been transforming words, letters, numbers and certain sounds into colours all my life. I also possess photographic memory. I tend to remember events predominantly visually, as visual compositions. The same way feelings are visual to me.
Overall I am very visual and I think it plays a great role when coming up with new paintings. Most often, when falling asleep, all the perceptions mentioned above mix together and paintings come to exist from those emotions and memories (the interesting group by the door that I saw from the tramstop, or a colourful track of words that rushed through my mind). So thats why I usually keep a sketchpad by the bed and often record new ideas half asleep.
In retrospect, my paintings often define a feeling of mine, or a situation I encountered. It is an inexhaustible well of possibilities, for which im infinitely greatful.
So what's next? I record my above metioned visions, my sketchpads are full of them. If there are some that I cannot forget about for weeks, I return to them, examine them, study them (this is where my analytical side comes into play), and paint them. It is frustrating to know that I will never be able to transform all of them into paintings. I have recorded hundred times more sketches than I will ever have time for.
And at the end, two questions that I hear the most often.
„When did you start painting?“
„What would you do if you couldn't paint“
Truthfully speaking, I can't remember when I started painting. I don't remember time without painting. I always knew that if I can't paint, I won't be happy. In the words of the painter P. Bonnard: 'It is not about panting life, but about giving your life to painting.'' As sentimental as it sounds, I live by the notion that I have once decided to dedicate my life to painting and there is no way back, because it is so tightly connected to my life that I would die without it.
My paintings are tightly connected with childhood, mostly in the way that I construct them - similary to children, I personify things. The objects in my paintings, therefore represent living people, emotions or desires. For example, I express the feeling of being home through marshmallow trees and lamp in the shape of house on the wall, these create an idea of cozy light cabin at the edge of the woods. Conversely the shiny glittering unicorn can bear the meaning of easy, superficially, beautiful lies, while the old toy black horse refers to something ugly but truthful. And a view of a blue sky means unreachable happiness – although we see it, it is too difficult to reach it. My paintings are thus charged with symbolism.
As mentioned above, the way I perceive the world is similar to the way children see it – full of ,,living” things which can become bearers of meanings. However I don't focus solely on children's toys and nostalgic memories in my compositions. I mostly depict useless things which adults buy to keep their sadness at bay – the shiny, cute and fluffy nonsenses, sweets and knick-knacks through which we try to buy the feeling of calm and happiness – a feeling that is as unreachable as the blue sky.
I aim to convey modern superficial society. People are consumed by the fear of seeking the truth; they opt to remain on the surface of things, never venturing into the deeper meanings. The society's choice is never to look deeper; never to ask if the man with horns on his head is evil or whether he just wants us to see something ugly but truthful. The choice is never to ask if those nice kitschy things are really what we need to achieve happiness. I aim to create paintings that prompt us to ask: who is really the devil here? What is hidden behind the shiny beatiful objects?
The catharsis of these ideas lies in my series called "About Superficiality," a collection of several two-meter sized canvases full of symbols and hidden meanings. In these series as well as in my all other pieces, I create my own artistic "language" to express myself, as the existing ones simply does not fit my "words".
