BathVáclav Misař: Oh, Red Currant!
“Ye daring ones around me! Ye venturers and adventurers, and whoever of you have embarked with cunning sails on unexplored seas! Ye enigma-enjoyers!” Nietzsche/Zarathustra
“What shall I love if not the enigma?”
Giorgio De Chirico
The enigma is here, at the heart of Václav’s paintings, profound and beautiful as the forest. At the beginning of all things, once upon a time…
When we observe Václav’s paintings, we might recall the eye-catching shadows and illusive overlapping plans in De Chirico’s early work, and think of the quiet, diffused light in Morandi’s paintings. Is Václav a metaphysical painter, deliberately outside of time, space, history and reality? Or, simply, a painter of the oneiric?
His pictures are impressions, individual visions, that seem familiar to us. We might have dreamt of this, we might want to dream of that. What is certain is that the light, space and atmospheres evoke a tension that exists in all of us, a tension that we try to resist or deny by day, but which comes back at night to swallow us all the more.
A silent, in nite and unappeasable tension. The indifference of Nature.
The sun rises, the sun sets.
The sun is at the centre, not Man, and what we do, or don’t do, is irrelevant. Václav might suggest that we embrace what we are and what we are not, that we slowly but surely desert false pretences and conventions, and surrender to the terrible beauty that runs in our veins. He sketches, frantically draws, then laboriously paints atmo- spheres and scenes, which murmur like the wind, lonely ballads, deserter’s songs, lon- ging for an elsewhere; which cry like the rain, anxieties of deluge, fantasies of over ow, desires of shipwreck; which stay silent, like fallen leaves covering the imprints of time, the traces of pride, and the steps of a tiptoeing evasion.
The painter, ever receding from prejudices, meticulously investigating the crime scene of his thoughts and perceptions, leads us towards the (re)discovery of dreams.
There is no mystery to solve but an enigma to love.
Václav Misař: Walnuts and Cherries
«Unheimlich is the name for everything that ought to have remained secret and hidden but has come to light.» Schelling
Behind Vaclav‘s canvas, lies no concept, no politics, no ideal, no discourse, but the body and the imagination.
It is often said that his paintings are reminiscent of Goya‘s, which is undeniable when you contemplate the light but questionable when you consider the subversiveness and gravity of the spanish master‘s subjects. Vaclav‘s atmospheres are, in my eyes, closer to those of the precursor of Rococo : Watteau. they share a certain intimacy, a melancholy and a dreamlike eroticism in both their characters and their landscapes. yet, individuality and freedom in creation is for sure a characteristic of the three painters. capricious painters, painters of the capriccio, not of the Veduta („what is seen“), who follow the jumps of the mind and the imagination, to create a scenery, made of reality and invented, of strange. Painters of the thrill.
Vaclav‘s painting is, just like him, sensitive. It does not offer sense, but questions the senses. at rst it arouses the gaze, naturally, but seriously. It forces us to look, but to really look, to make way for the confusion. confusion in the mind, but rst in the body: a smell of re or summer fruits, a sweet or bitter taste on the tongue, a piece of music or the song of the wind in the eardrums. and desire. Desire which takes its source in the details. a hand, a neck, a door, a cloud, a tree… all inviting us to dream or to „ni- ghtmare“. For the apparent familiarity of its subjects and of its light are reassuring, as if to drag us all the better to another reality, a disturbing strangeness (the „unheimlich“). We could enjoy, we could fear, we don‘t know yet, and it is this doubt that draws us in. If we are not afraid to enjoy we might even en- joy the fear. the characters, the animals, even the houses and landscapes, seem to wait quietly, almost impatiently, for the inevitable disaster to come. It‘s the moment „right before“. Before the storm, before the tragedy, before the crime. Before the dream. Vaclav paints the beginning of dreams and invites us to carry on dreaming. Wondering and wandering. he is always doubting and ever in a quest. Gazing through his colours and forms, it‘s our turn to doubt and search. But to truly search, to make way for a serendipitous nd.