Jana Vojnárová's exhibition curated by Viktor Cech at Studio PRÁM in Prague.
Jana Vojnárová: Stužkonoska modrá (Clifden Nonpareil)
Curated by Viktor Čech
13 April – 3 May, 2022
Studio PRÁM, Prague
The same way individuals who do not like to simply identify with the fashion trends of the surrounding majority, I, too, as a little boy, was more fascinated by mysterious nightmares than banally charming butterflies. It was probably due to the hiddenness and sophistication of their so much different beauty. Unlike the boyish memories of the Silesian bard Petr Bezruč, depicted in his collection Stužkonoska modrá (Clifden Nonpareil), I have never had the heart to imprison these creatures in the deadly immobility of the glazed collection of butterflies. However, just like the already mentioned Clifden Nonpareil, which with its rare charms is a significant point of that poem, reminiscent well what is so fascinating about these flying entities. The delicate structure of the mimicry of its front larger wings, which imitates the pattern of the bark of the trees on which it likes to stay (no less interesting is its camouflage texture in the larval stage), when opened, comes into playful contrast with the richer pigments of their rear wings, adorned with that famous blue ribbon. Although its relatively restrained coloring is dominated not only by many day but also by many night butterflies, its subtle tonality and depicted texture of the patterns make it something unforgettable from its different composition or layout of the wings of the changing collage.
However, poetic connotations are evoked in most of us by the picturesque Czech name Stužkonoska modrá (Clifden Nonpareil). As well as the purely aesthetic perception of its appearance, it directly seduces to the understanding of this creature as a mere poetic object, suitable especially for pinning into the collector's collection of trophies. As if it has to create a distance in us from the unacceptably different biology of these animals, not to mention the cynical cruelty of natural processes. The seemingly fragile charm of these butterflies, which is from another point of view a functional, protective and signal necessity of their existence, is something that actually creates a kind of parallel to the ambiguity we encounter when thinking about art and its role in our lives. Are those beautiful paintings just indifferent decorations, or does their origin and perception have a deeper meaning for our existence?
In this regrad, Jana Vojnárová's paintings, collages and drawings are for many viewrs probably an escape from the cruelty and fleeing elusiveness of the surrounding world, into the ethereality of figurative situations, melting into the tonal poetics of dream image spaces. Her figures and their encounters do not take place in the unstoppable linearity of our lives, but, on the contrary, they simply melancholically last, out of focus on the physical necessities of material reality. Like the unfolding and folding of a butterfly's wings, the elements of her compositions are always a variable process of composing, in which the process of creating collages, used as sketches through which the elements from object and bodily visual reality enter the author's pictorial world is essential. After all, aren't these thin areas of canvas and paper an analogy to the wings with which the painter tries to fly away from the banality and cruelty of our lives? It would be a nice idea, but there is a fundamental difference - unlike the poor butterflies, she can really do it, at least for a while, as well as her viewers.
Colors are not only a very useful tool for insects to hide or emphasize their presence. In the case of pictorial encounters of Jana Vojnárová's characters, they also play a crucial role, as physicality, moments of encounter or penetration and mere stay are not emphasized by mere modeling, but turn into dialogues of colored clouds reflecting the psychological and compositional nuances of that beautiful world elsewhere. Yet from our immersion in these colorful mists, we must someday emerge back into the gross civility of our reality. At least at the moment when we step out of the gallery space or when its echoes disappear from us. It is a matter of course that we often associate with art, a moment of refreshment and upliftment, followed by another dose of life's pitfalls. But perhaps the quality of how the artist can tune these transitions back and forth, between spaces of imagination and places of existence, plays a bigger role for his viewers. Just as butterflies choose their landing sites and air currents too reach yet another destination.
Photo: Michal Czanderle