Romanian catalog for Webpage - Flipbook - Page 17
begins with a collaged photograph of Louis Armstrong and
follows with a sequence of color, pattern, and line drawing
bursting from Armstrong’s trumpet. Brătescu made the
work with her eyes closed, channeling her inner vision in
a way that recalls the automatic drawing of the surrealists.
She has absolute faith in the line — this comes across
clearly in the work, as it does in all of her drawings.
Brătescu herself said, “Drawing owes a huge amount to the
energy with which the hand traces lines and the character
of this energy is determined by the character, the mood,
the culture, the vision of the artist . . . . To trace a line, a
simple line, with the feeling and awareness that you are
producing expression; that line is necessary to you beyond
reason.”
Like Brătescu, Mircea Cantor adopts a playful approach
to artmaking, even while addressing powerful or difficult
themes. He refuses to be neatly defined, and his works
also defy an easy categorization. Born in Romania and
still very much connected to and active in the scene there,
Cantor trained and lives in France. Choosing to follow in
the tradition of Marcel Duchamp in terms of employing
ready-made objects, he also creates installations, videos,
animations, sculptures, drawings, and paintings. Cantor
was the first from the generation of artists now in their
forties to achieve significant international and institutional
recognition.
A neo-conceptualist, he is highly regarded for his
evocative and metaphorical works that, far from being dry
or ironic, are often lyrical and poetic. The video Sic Transit
Gloria Mundi (2012) is one such example. The Latin phrase
roughly translates to, “Thus passes the glory of the world,”
and has become a motto of both political and religious
significance. While it is spoken during papal coronations
and has been appropriated by the media as political
jargon, Cantor has reappropriated and transformed the
saying into a memento mori that recalls the cycle of life
and the breadth of humanity and race. Although the video
is part of a body of works inspired by the city of Rome
and its religious symbols, Cantor’s film — while vaguely
religious — is not located within a specific doctrine, place,
or time. Instead, it seems to suggest a series of timeless
gestures or rites on eternal repeat; we could be looking at
a window into the past or into the future.
Mircea Cantor,
Future Gifts (detail), 2014,
one of three-part work,
illustrated page 50
While Cantor takes what he describes as a simultaneously
optimistic and inherently critical worldview, he is
extremely well versed in the myths and folk traditions of
his native Maramureș. He also loves a good story. One of
his most poignant works makes an extensive but unique
reference to the story behind an iconic series of sculptures
by Constantin Brâncuși, the most influential of modernist
sculptors and a native Romanian. Brâncuși’s Bird in Space
series was initially commissioned by an Indian prince to
be part of a planned temple of meditation. Brâncuși had
always wanted to combine his works of sculpture with
architecture, so he offered to design the temple as well,
which would have housed three of the birds. Two of the
three were realized and sent off to India, but sadly the
project and the third bird were never completed. Cantor,
though, gives the story a happier ending by honoring
Brâncuși’s original intention and producing three Future
Gifts (2014) of his own. While empty now, the ribbonwrapped cubes are pregnant with the expectation of future
fulfillment. Cantor has also deliberately chosen to realize
his work in three materials enmeshed within the history
of modernist sculpture. The white and black marble
recall the Taj Mahal (its purportedly planned black replica
was never realized by Shah Jahan), and concrete became
the favored new medium for outdoor and monumental
sculpture in the twentieth century.
Radu Cioca’s sculptures are poised between traditionally
fashioned objects and conceptually driven, thoughtprovoking works. The artist uses his meticulous
proficiency to accentuate the simplicity and directness of
the messages he chooses to convey. In the work Ear Study
in Stone No. 1 (2012), Cioca emphasizes the singularity
of the sense of hearing, hovering around sayings and
15
