from " the Book of Angels " series
" the waiting " (composition no.128)
ACRYLIC PAINTING ON CANVAS STRETCHED OVER WOODEN CHASSIS
painting size: 100 x 70 cm ( 40 x 28 inches) \ edges are painted black / ready to hang
In the Klosks's paintings form the last years its dominates, even many couldn't observed, the simplicity and humility: the simplicity from which the art, all-doing, is revealing with nothing more than the artist wants;
because Ovidiu Kloska wants that and ..dindn't wants that!
Looking closely, I noticed one major action in the works, specifically to a good drawer, which is joined, in an intimate collaboration, the colourist. Everything is seemingly simple, beautiful, a profound beauty, spiritual one, a beauty that tells a story, the story that You think he is telling; everything is natural, inspire, reinforcing in me the idea ... of creative freedom.
But how would reconcile the idea of beauty with the fleshless cheeks of angels, deprived of material, only the spirit deeper corners of the mouth with the look absorbed absorbed into the very material of the angel doubled by extraordinary spiritual mobility. Everything is in a light that overlaps the background from witch come out snippets of life as the angel is feeling in us and a a desolate world, a confused world,
crushed under the seal of an anguish destiny , but witch, paradoxically, may leave room for hope.
The movement- in its stillness - s soaked by a strange slowness, in the almost irresistible inclination of the divine head, of the return over the shoulder opening the endless infinity of the orbits...
And here, I can not help not noticing a restricted range of tones, then the blue, that strange blue ... a pressed line, excessively un-natural elongated forms, arms that are flowing like the water.
The angel, almost by narural size, invades the viewer's space, enough to convey the message, s a kind of oracle, or an answer doubled in a mirror, the mirror of the perverse thought, of cource.
What the viewer will choose remains to be seen, but it is assumed, and you have noone to blame, perhaps only the destiny or on the gods of the beginnings.
What can you see: gestures, there where they apparently are not, action where the character is frozen in stillness, not sketching any gesture . Silently, straight, sometimes frightening,
with the hands clenched on the stick; what else can you see, the Submitted tension between the deep creases cheek - pattern, in an attempt of the divine to become - to be - human, there where it rounds in an almost gray haloo, at some point from countless moments of the 24 hours, the down...
The atmosphere is cold, celestian, pure, detaching from the viewer sometimes violentlly, although he feels it there - it draws him into the image to fill its own image... The viewer, prisoner of the provisional daily life and artistic, in another image of the invisible world, but researched over time by many generations of artists: the light, the shadow of the model, the limits of the painted image.
Although he doesn't make it for very first time, his flowers beeing already famous, this time Kloska has a different starting point, namely, he aims to... , and even promotes, in a series of creations, the flowers, rather a certain way, an interesting manner to reinvent the flowers. The primordial flowers, rendered with maximum intensity, almost monochrome... apparently monochrome.
Flower - a diferent kind of angel, reduced to the simplest expression : an elastic rod in the top of witch is found the receptacle, well equipped, swollen with seeds of a frightening complexity, not easy to understand because of this. Lines, angles, an ascending dynamic, by animal nature, a vivacity, a ferocity that makes you think, to Kloska an admirable plastic success, almost unique if we think to the engine that hold the brush in trance, the flower that makes a pair with the angel almost reflected in the mirror, in the same non-color monochrome.
What I can say finally? As usual, almost another Kloska, although the themes are the same, but what wealth of metaphysical nuances, what spiritual charge, how much research
and the desire to penetrate beyond that is increasing between frame boundaries, getting used to replace the human ordinary landscape, lost from now on... Effervescent colors in a palette passing in unusual gradients on the canvas. A creative restless,that revs within his imagination."
Janine Vladislav - Art Collector
acrylic tehnique on canvas