Lepopisana

Ko sem bila lansko leto v Novem Bečeju, na Tiski akademiji akvarela, sem se navdušila nad akvarelom. Še posebej nad angleškim akvarelom, potrpežljivim polaganjem plast čez plast čiste barve. Zato sem se letos toliko bolj razveselila Simpozija v okviru bienala akvarela Castra 2015, v Ajdovščini. Govora je bilo v glavnem o samem akvarelu, njegovi skoraj odsotnosti na slovenski umetniški sceni in posledično odnosu galeristov, kustosov in javnosti do akvarela. Predpogoja, da lahko govorimo o akvarelu sta, po mnenju predavateljev, prosojnost barve in papir kot podlaga, čeprav so začetniki akvarela, Egipčani, uporabljali papirus. Na simpoziju so večinoma govorili o alla prima akvarelu. Pogrešala sem angleški akvarel, nekoga, ki bi polagal plast na plast barve do točke, ko več ne bi vedel koliko plasti je v zadnjih mesecih nanesel na papir. Rezultat je globina barve, ki je z mešanjem na paleti ne moremo dobiti. Tako kot slika Aleksandar Bogdanović, na primer ali Maja Verzotti. Ne gle

When I was little, there was an old, burned down bakery near where we lived. I was terrified of it. I wouldn't go near it and sometimes I dreamed of myself standing on the overgrown lawn in front of it in the middle of the night, just staring at it. It was as if the building was calling to me. Later it was torn down so that just the lawn (no longer overgrown) remained. Today nobody remembers it.  As a grown up I've been strangely attracted to abandoned buildings. Like this one: Palazzo Lisatti Mascheroni in Chioggia. It's private property, safely closed and for sale. I tried to imagine how it used to be when people were living in it. I pictured its interior as it might be now, dark rooms with dark long boards with thick layer of dust covering the floor, light slanting through stained glass windows ...    * Ko sem bila majhna je bila v Šiški zapuščena pekarna. Menda je pogorela. Bala sem se je in za nič na svetu nisem hotela mimo. Celo sanjalo se

I have ... a thing ... with Gustav. I don't know what it is and I don't particularly care to find out. It started years ago with a small address book with Fulfilment on its cover. I was a teenager staring at a couple embracing on the background of golden vines. The woman almost disapeared in the man's arms. Fifteen years ago in Belvedere in Vienna, I stood in front of his Kiss for quite a long time, just watching, not thinking about anything. And the same with Adele Bloch Bauer, before she moved to America and Judith with her don't-mess-with-me stare. Klimt's paintings inspire me although there is nothing Klimt-like in my paintings, except an occasional gold leaf in illuminated initials, bet that's another territory. There was a period of time Gustav appeared everywhere. In almost every book I read, the author at least mentioned him if not discussed his life and / or work: The Lady in Gold, The Painted Kiss, The Age of Insight, The Hare with Amber Eyes, to na