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TWENTY-SOMETHING - The Sonja Krasner Collection
Rózsa Gyula
2008 szertember 10

The question of ‘collection' is still worthy of clarifying as we do not know what kind of private collection it is where the exhibition includes formulary price lists and small notices that indicate the help of some commercial galleries.


But it does not matter where the title comes from if we can see a proper exhibition of the pieces of young artists in Balaton street. What is more, although all the three exhibitors are less than 30 years old, their name is not unknown to the public. They have shown themselves in group exhibitions, they have won prizes in recent years, so we could see from year to year where they were, where they were going, and this is a very encouraging circumstance in today's art, which is in a notorious need of encouraging circumstances.


It is another question that the passing of time is not equal with maturing or refinement, and that a two or three-year interval can also mean two or three years of hesitation, endless attempts towards renewal. As if we saw something like that in the pieces of the boldly colourist Soós Nóra. The painter drew every attention to herself in a group exhibition of Ludwig Contemporary Art Museum with her spectacular and matterful giant canvases, and her paintings brimmed with youthful daring and wisely solemn critique. Seemingly she painted the problemless, always soothingly simple situations of language coursebooks with the extremely economical style of coursebook illustrators, who do not burden the reader with too much art. But the unsubstantial bathroom scenes, the trivial objects of everyday life have appeared with so vivid, glowing outlines, the soothingly insignificant events have been drawn upon one another with such a baffling synchronicity, and, finally, the interim surfaces have been filled with so attractive colours and patterns that a kind of quiet, wise irony came to life from the whole.


Soós' painting has become more complicated since then. This time, the painting titled "Sonja" shows on the one hand the cheekily dotted, blue-contoured virtues of its predecessors, and on the other, the newspaper-collages and paintmarks that are new elements. The painter is looking for a way towards more dramatic and disharmonious layers, which has been proven in the meantime by her cartoon-appliqués, and the ensemble of disorderly lines, arbitrary paint blots and collages serves the same purpose. But this is not yet convincing enough. The collages are accidental, the function of blots is unclear, the line-systems that used to be so full of sense have now become unclear. But the biggest problem is sentimentality. It is very dangerous to express artists' fate with a bouquet of flowers, or a mother-child relationship with a giant paper clip. Intellectual confidence had manifested to a greater extent in her previous work.


In turn, Moizer Zsuzsa multiplies her oeuvre from exhibition to exhibition as it is mercilessly expected by the general public. This time, she offers the experience of a more edgy content and thematic rudeness besides her ever-present, refined and disarming painting technique - of course, in her always untouchable, hard-to-catch manner. We cannot say that the sensitive painting technique, which - no one knows how - renders the volatility of water colours on the canvas does not provide a complete experience in itself, or the meeting of watery pink and the snow-white canvas were not an extraordinary optical event. Now she seems to push this well-known feat towards a fine, and in its fineness bewildering, surreality. The girl figures who are brooding forgetfully or resentfully have always contained so much visionary irregularity and confusing vision that they enticed one to put down the word ‘surreal' in a routinish manner on the paper - still, one did not do so, the word being too strong. Now it is justified by one of the well-known pot-men, which is the caricature of a man - a bald man. The puppy-like dog is also surreal, with a human portrait in its stomach, the innocent-looking girl, whose arm grows into her head - or the other way round - and the innocently water-colourish red line, which in Moizer's symbolism looks like blood, is also surreal.


The third exhibitor, Barabás Zsófi has chosen the hardest path. She mostly tries to enrich the results of classical non-figurativeness with the reserve of pastel colours and the seriousness of earth colours. Her pictures are somewhere between the poles of quiet elegance and greyness.



Translated by Bálint Szele