Ana Sluga - Marjan Gumilar

Ana Sluga je vizualna umetnica, dejavna predvsem kot slikarka, fotografinja in avtorica videov. Pri svojem delu pogosto prehaja meje posameznih medijev, jih prepleta in tako ob svojih vsebinskih poudarkih zastavlja tudi vprašanja o njihovi tehnološki in širši naravi. Skozi njeno raznovrstno delo se kot ena dominantnih rdečih niti vleče spraševanje o identiteti, lastni in tuji, in o odnosu te lastne bitnosti z drugimi in s širšim okoljem.
Fotografski medij, ki je pogosto osnova, nastavek za njeno slikarsko delo, je zanjo hkrati dokument časa in medij spomina. Lep in izrazit primer za to je serija njenih slikarskih portretov na katere je prenesla tehnološko modificirane fotografske podobe svojih prednikov kot otrok. V tem nizu prednikov, ki jih je ali pa jih ni poznala, lahko ugledamo poskus nekakšne družinske arheologije, sestavljanja zgodbe o lastnem rodu, poreklu, izvoru, naravi ... Zdi se, da avtorica tako »ustvarja spomin«, delno realen, delno fiktiven, sestavlja mozaik, ki ga ni mogoče dokončno sestaviti, in s tem opozarja na trpko nezmožnost najti dokončne odgovore na zastavljena vprašanja, kar med drugim nakazuje »raster« na portretih.
V ta tematski okvir lahko umestimo tudi po motivu na videz vsakdanjo, a zelo močno sliko Ženske iz Pudoba in serijo fotografskih del z avtoričino ožjo družino, pri katerih je vedno izpostavljen le obraz enega od njenih članov, druga dva pa sta prekrita, nedefinirana ali še nedefinirana. Kot da vsa omenjena dela preigravajo tematiko iskanja mesta v nadaljevanju rodu, krogu soljudi, kot da vsebujejo nekakšno negotovo, tipajoče, morda celo tesnobno spraševanje o njihovi, lastni in skupni naravi in hkrati zavedanje o tem, da takšno početje lahko prinese le nezanesljive, varljive rezultate.
Če omenjena dela prevevata občutenost in intimnost, je tematika nove serije, Brez naslova (gre tudi za igro pomenov, saj imajo v resnici vsi fotografirani motivi svoj čisto konkretni naslov, z ulico in hišno številko), precej širša, asociacije ob njej mnogoplastne. Gre za serijo srednjeformatnih barvnih digitalnih fotografij blokovskih tipkovnic s tipkami zvoncev in tipkovnic domofonov, vsakdanjih predmetov torej, ki pa za svojo navidezno banalnostjo skrivajo množico formalnih in vsebinskih informacij. Slugovo je k umetniškemu ovekovečenju pritegnila predvsem njihova forma, estetski vtis in ob tem ni odveč omeniti slovitega fotografa Andreasa Gurskega, katerega snovanje je umetnici blizu. Gre namreč za sorodno iskanje, registriranje, izpostavljanje vizualnih vzgibov, v vsakdanjost potopljenih vidnih informacij, dražljajev, ki jih večina niti ne opazi.
A del iz serije ne zaznamujejo le različna barva, oblika, značilnosti materialov predstavljenih predmetov, čačke, raze na njih in včasih skoraj bizarna raznobarvnost napiskov s priimki, ob kateri se kdaj pa kdaj zazdi, da se stanovalci, ki jih ti predstavljajo, prav trudijo za pisano neurejenost »osebnih izkaznic« svojih blokov. Te tipkovnice namreč niso nič manj kot to; po eni strani ponujajo možnost za vstop v zgradbe in v naslednji fazi v domove ljudi, po drugi pa pričajo o vsakršni mentaliteti stanovalcev, razmerju med prvotnimi in pozneje priseljenimi, lastniki in najemniki, o njihovem čutu za red, estetiko, njihovi skrbnosti ali brezbrižnosti ... Novi, naknadno dodani napiski navadno pomenijo degradacijo, konec prvotnega enotnega standarda, izgleda, urejenosti, a hkrati prinesejo raznovrstnost, pisanost, živahnost, so znak sprememb, življenja. In za njimi se seveda skrivajo identitete, ljudje, posamezniki, družine in njihove zgodbe, zgodbe, zgodbe, katerih drobne delčke je mogoče razbrati že iz teh majhnih napisov, informacij, znakov.

Marjan Gumilar je umetnik z dovolj dolgo in prepričljivo ustvarjalno potjo, da se je z njo zapisal med prepoznavnejše domače slikarje. Zanj je značilna nekakšna »slikarska obrednost«, ustvarjalni akt, pri katerem sta enako pomembna pot in cilj, kontemplativna meditativnost, ki jo sam v slike »začara«, gledalec pa nato »odčara«. Izhaja iz tradicije modernistične abstrakcije, njenih ekspresivnih različic, lastna mu je vera v prvinsko moč slikarstva. Njegova dela zaznamuje primarna, arhetipska, k bistvenemu usmerjena slikarska simbolika z vrsto asociacij na makro in mikrokozmične pomene, odsevi hrepenenja po transcendenci, globokem dojemanju, občutenju sveta. Njegove barve so blage nosilke slutenj ali pa so močno eruptivne, kot bi se želele iztrgati iz površine platna, se razširiti v prostor okrog njega.
V Gumilarjevih delih je vsebovane veliko natančno skoncentrirane ustvarjalne energije, »kozmološka« dimenzija njegovih stvaritev pa se vseskozi subtilno prepleta z zavezujočo intimno ravnijo. Manj znano je, da se je umetnik v določenem obdobju svojega ustvarjanja intenzivno ukvarjal s preizpraševanjem narave in meja svojega osnovnega medija, z vprašanjem vloge, pomena, definicije slike kot take in njenega soočanja z drugimi, mlajšimi vizualnimi umetniškimi praksami. V tem kontekstu je posegel tudi po (polaroidni) fotografiji in celo po filmu in v tem času, v letih 1999/2000 je nastala tudi njegova zelo posebna serija Horizontalni premiki. Za njegovo odločitvijo, da njen del ponovno predstavi v Mestni galeriji Nova Gorica gotovo tičijo tako formalni razlogi, v smislu usklajenosti razstavne celote, kot vsebinski premislek, saj lahko iz te njegove serije izluščimo tudi soočanje z vprašanjem identitete, kar se kaže kot skupni tematski podton obeh sodelujočih umetnikov.
Gre namreč za edino avtorjevo serijo, ki je dokaj tesno navezana na vidne značilnosti njegove rodne pokrajine in je v tem smislu bolj »prizemljena« od ostalih. Gumilarjevi skozi rdeči filter posneti krajinski polaroidi so odsev njegovega intimnega doživljanja jutranje svetlobe nad domačo pokrajino, kompozicije, sestavljene iz po devetih slikarskih miniatur formata razglednic variirajo imaginarni krajinski motiv, gestualno preigravajo zemeljske barve, kombinirane z umazano belino neba. Pri teh delih gre za nekakšen modificiran, slikarsko preoblikovan odmev kadriranja lastnega filmu, kar je element, ki ga je avtor še poudaril s horizontalno nanizanimi majhnoformatnimi platni, katerih razporeditev in notranja dinamika sta seriji verjetno dali tudi ime.
Gumilar je s temi slikami torej poskušal ustvariti nekakšen »slikarski film«, gledalcu sugerira, da jim sledi zapored, se premika od ene do druge. Motivni izvor te ritmično nanizane skupine črno in belo obarvanih platen, na katerih se »pogovarjata« stilizirani ploskvi zemlje in neba, neba in zemlje, noči in dneva, svetlobe in temine ..., med katerima poteka nejasna črta horizonta, ločnica in povezovalka, os obrata med obema ploskvama, sferama, ki ju ti predstavljata, naj bi bil pogled skozi avtorjevo domače okno ali pogled z vlaka, s katerim se je kot študent vozil v rodno pokrajino in iz nje. Ker sem se s tistim vlakom vozil tudi sam, se mi zdi podatek dovolj verodostojen, še posebej v primeru potovanja iz notranjosti Slovenije v Prekmurje. Po prehodu vlaka čez most na Muri, se ne poravna le mimo njega švigajoča valovita pokrajina, ampak vlak tudi upočasni vožnjo, okolica postaja vse bolj razvidna, a kljub temu vedno monotonejša, zvedena na bazično dvojnost trdne zemljine in visokega svoda neba. Srečevanje teh dveh prvin na človeka deluje zelo prizemljujoče, postavi ga na zelo trdna tla, a pod toliko razsežnejše, toliko neskončnejše nebo. Prizorišče je pripravljeno, da posrka gledalca vase, ga vključi v kozmično igro elementov, ga privede do globokih občutij in intimnih spraševanj.

Vladimir P. Štefanec

Ana Sluga is a visual artist, actively working in the fields of painting, photography and video. She loves to cross the boundaries and mix the various types of media so as to present viewers with more than striking content, but also questions on the very nature of her art. Questions about her own identity and that of others, about the relations between her being and the wider world appear to be one of the connecting threads of her variegated work.
Photographs often serve as foundation for her painting, while being a document of time, the medium of memory. A telling example of this kind of approach is a series of painted portraits, to which she transposed strongly edited childhood photographs of her family and friends. The series, portraying her intimate friends and family members, whom she might even not have known, could be seen as an attempt at archaeology of human relations, a reconstruction of her own clan’s story, her friendships and family relations, their very nature... One cannot avoid the impression that the artist is trying to solve a partly real and partly fictional jigsaw, which cannot be completed at all, thus emphasizing the bitter impossibility to find final answers to re-appearing questions. The fact that the photographs are rasterized seems to point in that direction.
If said works are permeated by sensitivity and intimacy, the theme of the new series: No title (where the author is toying with meanings, as every subject on her photographs has a clearly stated address with street and number) is much wider and with stratified implications. It is a series of medium format colour digital photographs of doorbell panels with doorbells and door phones, ordinary, day-to-day objects that conceal a huge amount of formal and substantive information beneath their seeming banality. Sluga was driven to setting these objects in a perennial artistic form by their shape, their aesthetic impression and it is here worth mentioning Andreas Gursky, the famous photographer, whose creations are closely felt by Sluga. Their quest, their recording and exhibiting of visual motives and information, everyday stimuli that remain unnoticed by the majority is at least comparable, if not the same.
The works of this series are not only marked by different colours, shapes and characteristics of the objects’ materials, by doodles and—at times—an almost bizarre colourfulness of the surnames, which occasionally give rise to the impression that the inhabitants are putting in some serious effort to make the identities of their apartment blocks emanate some kind of colourful disorder. The doorbell panels are nothing less than exactly this: On the one hand they offer a possibility to enter the building and thus the private apartments, on the other they are a testimony of the inhabitants’ mentality, of the relationships between the original inhabitants and the subsequent owners and tenants, their sense of order and beauty, their level of commitment or lack thereof... All the new labels usually indicate degradation, the end of an initially uniform standard view and order, while showing—at the same time—colour, livelihood and vitality, a sign of changes and life. They are implying different identities, real people, individuals and families with their stories, histories and tales, whose minute parts can be deducted from these small signs, writings and labels.

Marjan Gumilar is an artist whose characterising feature is the ‘ceremony of painting’, the creative act, in which the path and the goal are equally important, a contemplative meditation charmed into the pictures by the artist and left to the viewer to be charmed out. While he has built upon the tradition of modernist abstraction and its expressive variations, personally he believes in the primordial strength of the art of painting. His works are marked by a primary, archetypal and essential symbolism with a vast range of associations to macro- and microcosmical meanings, reflections of his yearnings for transcendence, for a deeper understanding and feeling of the world. His colours bear tender presentiments or cry out violently, as if they wanted to erupt from the constraints of the canvas and expand into the surrounding world.
Gumilar’s work contains plenty of accurately focused creative energy. The ‘cosmic’ dimension of his creations is constantly and delicately interwoven with his coercive intimate level. A less known fact about the artist reveals that in a certain period of his creative life he explored intensively the nature of his medium; the role, the meaning, the definition of a painting in itself and its relationship to other, more recent visual art practices. In this context, he ventured into (Polaroid) photography and even video and in this period of 1999/2000 he created a very special series entitled Horizontal Shifts. The decision to show a part of that series at his exhibition in the City Gallery of Nova Gorica must be motivated by formal reasons—to balance out the exhibition as a whole—as well as substantial motives, because this series reveals his strife in facing the question of identity; a question that has turned out to be the common undertone to both co-operating artist’s work.
Among all the painter’s series, this is the only one to also feature—along the usual universal extent—recognisable elements of the painter’s native landscape, making it more ‘grounded’ than the others. Gumilar’s Polaroid sceneries, made with a red filter, reflect his intimate experience of the land immersed in morning light. The compositions of nine postcard-sized miniatures add variety to the imaginary landscape and play with earthly colours combined with the dirty whiteness of the sky. These works are the painter’s modifying reaction to frame-setting of a film of his own; an element emphasized by the author by horizontally aligning small canvases, whose disposition and internal dynamics have probably given the name to the series.
With these pictures, Gumilar wanted to create a kind of a painter’s film, prompting the viewer to see them in sequence, to move from one to the next ‘frame’ and to connect them in a timeline, to see them as a whole. The source of inspiration for these rhythmically aligned groups of black-and-white canvases—with black mostly at the bottom except in some rare cases—seems to be the view from a window of the author’s home or from a train, which he used to travel by often. The stylized surfaces of earth and sky, sky and earth, day and night, lightness and darkness are in dialogue, divided only by a blurred line of horizon. The monotonous landscape has been reduced to the fundamental duality of solid soil and the airy dome of sky. The two basic elements have mutually complementing effects: the earth grounds people, while putting them under an immense and infinite sky. The artist has translated these principles to a rudimental artistic language, thus asking ontological questions on human and personal identity, on their relations to their environment. The author seems to have set up a scene for a cosmic game of primary elements in order to draw the viewers on stage and lead them to experience deep feelings and face intimate questions.

Vladimir P. Štefanec