cause it all has rather important costs. So I still sometimes make and
sell applied art objects. The lamps are the greatest compromise in
my sculpture work that I am able to make.
What were the changes in your artwork after the 2000?
After the 2000, I am no longer approaching sculpture in the
same manner. Before what was of the utmost importance to me was
the so-called essay sculpture. Those are sculptures that have their
backgrounds in a story, an essay, and that were originated from the
same personal necessity as the lectures I was making at the Museum. The idea was to tell a story though the sculpture, as much as
possible. I call these works sculptures because during the process of
creation I approach them as sculptures, even though everybody else
is calling them assemblages. A great part of these assemblages I
could, craft-wise, make by myself if I only wanted to, but I do not
find it necessary. There are so many things around me, and recycling
is very popular now… And it’s been my entire life that I have been
engaged with recycling and activism, so it is all very familiar to me.
I got fed up with these sculptures. There is an artist to whom Srka
and I sold or lent parts for his exhibitions. He stopped doing this type
of sculpture because it became harder for him to obtain parts than
to make a sculpture from scratch. It looks easy, as if anybody can do
it, but to obtain this flair to it, as if anybody could do it, there is a long
process behind it. Sometimes it can take years. Sometimes, let’s say,
I miss a part that I can’t find or that I even do not know what it
should be. The methodology behind it is very complicated. I started
reducing my approach to it, and my work of that period was seen
also at the ULUS exhibition. I made similar things there, but I reduced drastically the materials and I took a completely different approach. At that exhibition, my most important work was the boat. It
was really called “Twilight” (“Suton”), the end of the day. Also the
washbasin, a laver, was very important, “The Penitent” (“Pokajnica”), that though, on one hand, reminded too much Disan
whereas I wasn’t even thinking of Disan at the time. Even the idea
behind it was afar from him. I wanted to do something similar to a
penitent church. I had in mind all the dogs of war that suddenly
started to wash their hands clean and began, all together, to get into
humanitarian business. They all became philanthropists overnight,
which upset me the most, so I wanted to make a penitent church
for them.
I’m washing my hands, 2005
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