Tuesday, 11 January 2011

It’s time!

Well, ok, it’s ALMOST time! Three weeks left until my exhibition and I feel like I am running out of time. Contradictory enough ideas start to arrive in batches, which reminds me of a dialog of Calvin and Hobbes (a great cartoon I’ve discovered lately. I know. I KNOW. But better late than never.):

I did try to find a theme for my next event. I can’t. I really can’t. Inspiration comes from all over the place: childhood memories, short winter days, old black and white photos, pin up models, books, a view outside the window. How can one paint it in the same style? It is like to say: OK, I really like spinach (I do) and I am going to eat spinach every day for the rest of my life. Or: I am happy today, so I am going to stay happy to the end of days. Perhaps some are consequent like this, but not me. I am the Queen of Inconsistency.

The only consistent aspect is RED. I can’t help it. A friend told me lately: “Why don’t you paint blue?” Good question. Honestly. I had a clear picture in mind recently. It was definitely blue. It stayed blue for two days, but when I finished it, it came out red…with a skull. 

I don’t try too much to analyse what I do. But people often ask questions like: “What are you painting?” , “In which style do you paint?”. And obviously one (me) has to come up with some sort of a smart answer: “Landscapes of memories” or “Portraits of souls”, that kind of thing. Ask a six year old in which style he/she paints. Most likely you’ll get: “In MY style, duh!”. It’s much more complicated with adults. We (yes, I am slowly accepting the fact of being an adult) need categories, logical frameworks, precise definitions, don’t we?

That makes me think of the Little Prince: “If you were to say to the grown-ups:
“I saw a beautiful house made of rosy brick, with geraniums in the windows and doves on the roof,” they would not be able to get any idea of that house at all. You would have to say to them: “I saw a house that cost $20,000.” Then they would exclaim: “Oh, what a pretty house that is!”
Just so, you might say to them: "The proof that the little prince existed is that he was charming, that he laughed, and that he was looking for a sheep.
If anybody wants a sheep, that is a proof that he exists.”
And what good would it do to tell them that?”

But I am sure you know better. If you have read this till the end and didn’t feel a bit bored. I hope I see you in February.



  1. Dear Ms. Bakurova-Stammbach,

    As both an artist and a Hungarian, I know of what you speak.

    I think what you say is similar in thought to a quote from the great Hungarian mathematician, Janos Bolyai.

    "Out of nothing I have created a strange new universe."

    Being a long distance from you, living in Székesfehérvár as I do, I regret that I cannot attend your exhibit. But I wish you great success.

    So then, Sok szerencsét kivánok!

  2. That is a gentle thing to say, thank you. And as we say: "Barátom, ne tegyenek viccek!"