Lust for Light. Solo exhibition. Artist Andrei Chintilă (Romania 1958, died 2010). Exhibition text by Mihaela Varzari

Lust for Light. Solo exhibition. Andrei Chintilă

Text by Mihaela Varzari

SUPRAINFINIT Gallery

22 Mantuleasa St

Bucharest

Romania 

English version 

Lust for Light is a long overdue solo exhibition of Andrei Chintilă, an artist whose work unpardonably still remains in the shadows of history of art. The 16 paintings plus one photograph that feature the exhibition encapsulate two decades, starting with 1985 in Romania and moving over into the 1990’s when the artist relocated to Belgium for a few years.

 Vlad Iacob listening to music (1987) by Andrei Chintila, Courtesy to SUPRAINFINIT Gallery

Adrian Guță, art historian and critic, himself immersed in the 80’s generation, places Chintilă on its front line alongside artists like Ghoerghe Rasovsky, Ioana Batrânu or Vlad Iacob, profoundly marked by post-modernism in full swing associated with poets and short story writers. Vlad Iacob Listening to Music (1987) belongs to the trajectory defined by anti-establishment impulses, conducive to reframing the Romanian figurative art under the influences of German and American neo-expressionism. Iacob, a close friend of the artist, is perhaps paradoxically depicted with dark skin. Under the ferocious, blazing, summer sun, bodies change shades and enjoy a particular type of freedom associated with the youth on prolonged holidays by the Black Sea and alternative lifestyle on the camping beaches of 2 Mai, Vama Veche or Sfântu Gheorghe. Fascinated by this oasis of freedom, Chintilă dedicates a series of paintings depicting bodies dancing effortlessly on the beach in a state of bliss filled with sexual energy. 

Blue Velvet by Andrei Chintila, Courtesy to SUPRAINFINIT Gallery

The women of this exhibition are mostly depicted alone in various poses ranging from Siren of the Sea, an oil painting almost impressionistic in its technique with a pop twist, an instantiation of timeless glam or they react to the male gaze at a party, as in Ecstasy, Separation  and Blue Velvet where some light pop art directions are visible. In Boys on 2 May Beach (1992) ad-hoc ‘communities’ are formed by young, athletic men hanging out on the beach in these mundane, snap-shots like representations, reminiscence of Paul Cézanne’s The Bathers (1905) only not with women as artist subjects. If Chintilă allows for some of his characters to turn almost black, Madness Study  depicts what seem to resemble to an Afro-American boxer during an era when Muhammad Ali was making headlines across the world. Chintilă’s attitude is innocent of cultural appropriation since ante ‘89 Romania was responding to other ideological stimuli.

Chintilă’s flirting with pop art is subtle and quite a provocation given the context he operated within still under the influence by the divide between high and low art. Lust for Light suggests that this divide collapses while the heat, violence, rhythm and velocity collude to impress upon the canvas a state of transgression.  
 

Boys sunbathing on 2 May Beacch by Andrei Chintila, Courtesy to SUPRAINFINIT Gallery

 ***

Andrei Chintilă, (born 6 August 1958, died 2010) was a Romanian painter, graphician and photographer. As an important contributor to the neo-figurative painting of the 1980’s, he is considered one of the most important representatives of his generation. 
 
***

Romanian version

Lust for Light este mult așteptata expoziție personală a artistului Andrei Chintilă, a cărui practică rămâne impardonabil în subsolul istoriei artei. Cele 16 picturi plus o fotografie, însumează două decade, începând cu 1985 în România și până spre finalul anilor 1990, când artistul a locuit temporar în Belgia. 

Criticul și istoricul de artă Adrian Guță, își plasează congenerul Chintilă, în prima linie a opzecistilor alături de artiștii Ghoerghe Rasovsky, Ioana Batrânu sau Vlad Iacob marcați de Postmodernismul poeților și a scriitorilor de proză scurtă. Vlad Iacob ascultând muzică (1985) se încadrează în liniile trasate de impulsiva agresiune fată de sistem, care a condus către remodelarea artei figurative românești la interferența cu repere semnificative ale neo-expresionsmului german sau american. Iacob, prieten apropriat al artistului este reprezentat în mod paradoxal în tonuri de maro închise. Sub impactul soarelui neândurător de vară, pielea corpului capătă nuanțe întunecate și se bucură de o degajare specială asociată cu tinerii în vacanțe prelungite la malul Mării Negre și cu stilul de viața alternativ încurajat de atmosfera plajelor de la 2 Mai, Vama Veche sau Sfântu Gheorghe. Fascinat de această oază de libertate, Chintilă surprinde într-o serie de lucrări euforia și energia sexuală emanată de corpuri umane dansând cu degajare pe plajă.

Femeile sunt reprezentate deseori singure, în ipostaze variate precum în Sirena mărilor, o pictură în ulei aproape impresionistă ca tehnică dar cu o usoară nota pop, instanțierea glam-ului la malul mării sau par să reacționeze la gaze-ul masculin în timpul unei petreceri ca în Ecstasy, Despărțire sau Blue Velvet. Băieți la plajă surprinde cotidianul în comunități ad-hoc formate de tineri bărbați cu corpuri atletice ce petrec timp impreună pe plajă sau la piscină, o posibilă trimitere la Les grandes baigneuses (1905) de Paul Cézanne. Femeile apar deseori singure, în ipostaze variate precum în Sirena mărilor, o instanțiere a glam-ului la malul mării sau reacționând la gaze-ul masculin în timpul unei petreceri  porecum în Ecstasy, Despărtire sau Blue Velvet, unde nuanțele pop art-ului se evidențiază. Dacă adesea Chintilă îşi reprezintă subiecții în tonuri de maro, Studiu pentru Madness ilustrează un boxer afro-american, posibil influiențat de nume din boxul american, printre care Muhammad Ali era una din marile celebrităti internaționale ale momentului. Coincidență sau nu, artistul este inocent de orice sugestie asociată cu aproprierea culturală din moment ce România pre ‘89 răspundea altor stimulti ideologici.

Chintilă flirtează cu arta pop in mod subtil, suficient însa pentru a provoca divizarea înca operativă la acel moment, între cultura înaltă și restul. Lust for Light sugerează o colapsare a acestei diviziuni, în timp ce căldura arzătoare, violența, ritmul și velociatatea ‘conspiră’ pentru a reda pe pânză o stare de transgresie.

Andrei Chintilă (născut pe 6 august, a murit in 2010) a fost pictor, grafician si fotograf roman. A adus o contributie importantă picturii neo-figurative din decada 80, pentru care este considerat unul din cei mai importanți reprezentanți ai generației.

Exhibition essay // IN IN THE THE FUTURE FUTURE, Solo by artist Kristin Wenzel // curator Mihaela Varzari // host CLUBELECTRO PUTERE GALLERY

IN IN THE THE FUTURE FUTURE

Kristin Wenzel
Curated by Mihaela Varzari
21 September - 21 October 2018

Club Electroputere Craiova
56 Calea Bucuresti
Romania
***

Ruins are unstable by definition. They are forms altered physically by time, culturally always. As art they are only partly aesthetic since they stand as remains of something else, of which they become shadows or echoes informing a critique. The exhibition IN IN THE THE FUTURE FUTURE casts a shadow in reverse by engaging with ruins, as future in the past, not as in the English grammatical verbal tense, but in its literal sense. This landscape marked by abandonment, made up of remains of Modernist architecture claims to be timeless. If an apocalyptic scenario is usually placed in the future, the black and white photograph of a rainbow taken in 1986 sends us back to the past. This photo projected on the wall was adapted for a slide projector, an obsolete piece of technology whose mid XX century’s metallic, familiar sound sharply punctuates the passing of time. The carousel is placed on a stand, partly aesthetic, partly functional, a constant element of classical modernist architecture. We can imagine, this landscape as a time capsule, temporally located at the moment when this photograph was taken by Kristin Wenzel’s father in former East Germany where the family lived. This personal detail is read as an artifact not in its literal sense but as an artistic position founded on the need for self-mythologizing.

Exhibition view

The photo has a counterpart, an immaterial image of a ‘’rainbow’’, artificially created with light reflecting water, just like in the secondary-school lab. Largely speaking, the rainbow is a pure childlike image. Children make soap bubbles, make objects out of folding paper or cardboard. Within the architectural setting of the exhibition, Wenzel places the three parrots made out of cardboard in order to activate personal memories, an act which also triggers a re-evaluation of a whole set of socio-political structures. Everything is organized as to evoke the final image J. G. Ballard’s 1975 SF novel High-Rise, where the birds are the last inhabitants of a Modernist block of flats. Similarly, the parrots become the only witnesses to tell it further but to whom, since no cultural object can retain its power when there are no longer new eyes to see it. 

Exhibition vie

The exhibition includes an approximate 1:1 replica of a newsstand, a kind of one person booth which juxtaposes outside and inside. Wenzel scouts for her perfect locations. Kiosks, abandoned display windows or provisional architectural structures with stories to tell starting from the 70’s in Bucharest or Berlin, become exhibition spaces for her temporary interventions. Excavating within our recent past is also revealing certain ideologies in/forming how institutions choose to archive our cultural heritage. If architecture is by definition political, Wenzel is in constant search of new and more complex ways to highlight it. The view of one of the parrots sitting on top of a four meter something high tower is partly obstructed by the ceiling beam from different positions of ElectroPutere gallery’s exhibition space. A purposefully violent act on behalf of Wenzel, whose interest in Modernist architecture comes with its associations of top-down management, its inbuilt universalism or purity of design. Small tiles partly cover the sculptures or are spread out on the floor next to them. They are copies after ceramic tiles picked up on the streets of Craiova, where they were produced before ‘89 by a now defunct factory. Her latest projects treat the obsolete as fertile ground for dealing with so much debated transition from state economy to global capitalism. Chapter 8 installation initiated in 2018 by CNTRM WRNHS Project Space is a site-specific intervention in an abandoned guard house in former East Berlin to be demolished by the end of 2018. Wenzel’s response to their invitation was to build a 1:4 scale replica of the same booth which she placed inside it, as an act of personal homage.

Exhibition view

This cultural heritages which indeed are just ruins now are treated like that bachelor uncle at the Sunday family lunch, who you don’t quite know where to place him at the table. The dominant state of mind in Romania is still under the auspices of a self-imposed amnesia. Communism is generally understood in Eastern Europe, as an intermission or delay in the ‘normal’ development – a delay which, once it was over, left no traces other than a expected certain appetite to ‘make up for lost time’ and build a capitalism of the Western type. To recuperate and rescue some of disavowed ideals and artistic practices, as well as historicize objectively that period through the lens of its utopian ideals, is much needed now while keeping away from falling prey to nostalgia and become obsolete. 

Exhibition view

In popular culture around the globe, dystopian visions have not yet obliterated utopian hopes for more favourable futures. The abundance of films depicting the end of world has elicited a well rehashed phrase that it is easier to imagine the end of the world than to imagine the end of capitalism, which in the good old fashion postmodernism springs up without having its source quoted. Yet, resistance to the maladies of the present can also be seen rising and falling as circumstance allow, sometimes enabling us to renew our attachments to life by embracing both its real sorrows as well as its possible joys. If dystopian landscapes are usually about some sordid future for the 99%, the exhibition IN IN THE THE FUTURE FUTURE reflects the future through the lens of an event belonging to the past. One hypothesis I have lately came across is that the end of the world already had happened, that we couldn’t get more self-destructive than we already have done so, which would allow us to focus on re-construction.