O autoru:
About the Author:
Admir Mujkić rođen je 1972. godine u Sisku, Hrvatska. Akademiju likovnih umjetnosti u Sarajevu, Odsjek za grafiku, upisao je u klasi profesora Salima Obralića i diplomirao u klasi profesora Dževada Hoze. Na istoj akademiji završio i postdiplomske studije. Višestruko je nagrađivan te aktivno izlaže u zemlji i inozemstvu. Predsjednik je Udruženja likovnih umjetnika ULUBiH i makedonskog Društva likovnih umjetnika Veles. Živi i radi u Sarajevu.
Admir Mujkić was born in 1972 in Sisak, Croatia. He enrolled in the Academy of Fine Arts in Sarajevo, Department of Graphic Arts, in the class of professor Salim Obralić, and graduated in the class of professor Dževad Hoza. He also completed post-graduate studies at the same Academy. He has won numerous awards and exhibited in the country and abroad. He is the president of the Association of Artists of Bosnia and Herzegovina, ULUBIH and the Macedonian Association of Artists, Veles. Admir lives and works in Sarajevo.
ADMIR MUJKIĆ
SUOČAVANJE S RIBAMA
Hrvatsko društvo likovnih umjetnika | Croatian Association of Fine Artists Program Galerije Karas s izvođenjem u Galeriji Prsten | Karas Gallery program in Prsten Gallery Trg žrtava fašizma 16, 10000 Zagreb, Croatia | www.hdlu.hr Radno vrijeme: srijeda – petak 11 do 19h, subota – nedjelja 10 do 18h; ponedjeljkom, utorkom i blagdanom zatvoreno. Working hours: Wednesday to Friday 11am – 7pm, Saturday to Sunday 10 – 6pm; Monday, Tuesday and holidays - closed IMPRESUM | Nakladnik/Publisher: Hrvatsko društvo likovnih umjetnika/Croatian Association of Fine Artists, Trg žrtava fašizma 16, 10 000 Zagreb, hdlu@hdlu.hr, www.hdlu.hr | Za nakladnika/For the publisher: Josip Zanki | Upravni odbor HDLU/ Executive board of HDLU: Josip Zanki (predsjednik/president), Tomislav Buntak (dopredsjednik/vicepresident), Fedor Vučemilović (dopredsjednik/vicepresident), Ida Blažičko, Ivan Fijolić, Monika Meglić, Melinda Šefčić | Umjetnički savjet/ Artistic board: Tomislav Buntak, Suzana Marjanić, Koraljka Kovač Dugandžić, Branka Benčić, Ivan Fijolić, Josip Zanki, Ivica Župan | Ravnateljica/Director: Ivana Andabaka | Stručna suradnica/Associate: Mia Orsag | Predgovor/Preface: Faruk Šehić | Grafičko oblikovanje kataloga/Catalogue Design: Duje Medić | Fotografija/Photography: Admir Mujkić | Prijevod/Translation: Zana Šaškin | Lektura/Proofreading: Zana Šaškin | Tisak/Printed by Cerovski | Naklada/Copies: 150 Izložba je realizirana uz financijsku potporu Gradskog ureda za kulturu, obrazovanje i sport Grada Zagreba / The exhibition is financially supported by the City Office for Culture, Education and Sports Zagreb.
Program Galerije Karas | 19. svibnja - 05. lipnja, 2016. | Karas Gallery program | May 19 - June 5 2016
Lebdeći svjetovi Admira Mujkića Priča seže duboko u prošlost, u ratnu 1993. godinu, kada se Admir i ja nismo poznavali, ali smo imali zajedničke prijatelje. Obojica smo čuli jedan za drugog, i točnije za količinu alkohola koju smo mogli popiti. Onda smo se sreli i odlučili vidjeti tko je bolji u ispijanju pivskih krigli. Tad je, nekim slučajem, Bihaćka pivovara radila punom parom, što je omogućilo naš alkoholni dvoboj, po uzoru na one s Divljeg Zapada. Rezultat tog filmskog obračuna u kafiću Mlin u Cazinu je naše dugogodišnje prijateljstvo. Tako sam u jednoj prilici bio u ulozi Admirovog zvaničnog menadžera prodaje crteža zgodnih amazonki u uniformama Armije BiH vlasniku jednog kafića u spomenutom gradu. Od prodaje smo zaradili pedeset maraka, koje smo potrošili na ugodno piće na bazi ječma i hmelja. Kasnije je naše druženje poprimilo konkretan oblik umjetničke suradnje, pa je Jasna, Admirova buduća žena, na osnovu Admirovog crteža, dizajnirala moju prvu knjigu Pjesme u nastajanju, koja mi je uglavnom i draga upravo zbog izgleda. Nakon tog sam, za katalog jedne od prvih Admirovih izložbi, napisao nadrealistički poetski tekst. Sve smo se više i više ozbiljno bavili umjetnošću, i za mnogih večernjih druženja smo raspravljali o književnosti i likovnoj umjetnosti, njihovom jedinstvu i razlikama. U ovom serijalu grafika malog formata dominiraju mnogi motivi iz Admirovog prvog grafičkog ciklusa Putovanje. Tu su konji koji plešu u svojevrsnom vrtlogu, urađeni preciznim potezima igle, zatim novi motivi riba i ono najprisutnije na ovim minijaturnim grafikama: lebdeći svjetovi ili lebdeće zemlje s građevinama koje podsjećaju na bosanske sakralne objekte, kao simbioza crkve i džamije, s bajkovitim dječjim očima; kuće poput ruskih babuški koje nas veselo promatraju s komadâ zemlje što plutaju nalik Magritovim lebdećim dvorcima. Sjećam se jednog Admirovog crteža, (koji je 2001. godine bio uvršten u selekciju Međunarodne izložbe crteža u Rijeci), nastalog nakon ciklusa Putovanje, koji se zvao Zemlja u prognanstvu. Mislim da je to početni motiv za većinu ovih malih grafika. Premda nisam nikakav ekspert za likovnu umjetnost, pa likovno djelo gledam isključivo na literaran način, mislim da je metafora Zemlje u prognanstvu središnji motiv ove izložbe. Što je, prema mom mišljenju, još jedan dokaz
Admir Mujkić’s Floating Worlds da umjetnik, bez obzira na to koliko se trudio, ne može pobjeći od zbilje kojom je okružen. A ova naša stvarnost, htjeli mi to priznati ili ne, je tužna, tragično živa freska u kojoj je skoro nemoguće ostvariti život dostojan ljudskog bića. Međutim, Admirovi lebdeći svjetovi su sve, samo ne tužni. To su minijaturni prozori kroz koje se probija blagotvorno sunce. Tako da ove grafike nisu direktan antiutopijski prikaz stanja u kojem se naši duhovi grčevito bore za djelić čovječanske sreće. To su prije sretne vizije jednog drukčijeg, imaginarnog svijeta iz umjetnikove mašte. Admirovi svjetovi su veseli na infantilan način, na onaj način na koji smo, kao djeca, uživali i bježali u književne ili filmske čarobne krajolike. Ono što ovim grafikama daje zrelost i snagu je majstorski potez ruke koja filigranski crta svoje opsesije. Admirov filigranski stil možda proizlazi iz želje umjetnika da sebi i drugima približi i razjasni postojeći svijet, da pronađe centar i smisao koji su obilježili veliku modernističku potragu kroz dvadeseto stoljeće. Potragu za nekim od temeljnih ljudskih vrijednosti, dobrotom ili srećom, koje su danas posve iščezle ili se na njih gleda kao na zastarjele, drevne ljudske nedostatke. Ovo je samo jedan impresionistički pogled na Admirove lebdeće svjetove, koji sasvim izvjesno mogu biti i onaj ukleti osjećaj izbjeglištva i nepripadanja dvadesetom stoljeću, onom vijeku što čitav može stati u rečenicu poručnika Kilgorea (Robert Duvall): tako volim miris napalma ujutro, iz Coppolinog nenadmašnog filma Apokalipsa danas (sada). U tom istom vremenu ćemo, kako trenutno stvari stoje, zauvijek ostati zarobljeni, baš kao muhe u jantarnoj smoli. Admirove grafike, lišene ikakve kakve pretencioznosti, nas uvjeravaju da je snaga umjetnosti, u mračnim vremenima, upravo u njenoj krhkosti i nemoći spram gigantske dinamike zla, koja se razvija izvan naše volje i da se spas nalazi u mašti koja nam omogućava naše privatne lebdeće svjetove. Faruk Šehić
The story goes way back, to the war-stricken year of 1993, when Admir and I did not know each other, but we shared mutual friends. We had heard about each other, and this reputation was based on how much we could drink. Then we met and decided to see who could drink more pints of beer. It was the time when, by some chance, Bihać brewery worked at full speed, and this enabled our alcoholic duel, inspired by the ones from the Wild West. This movie duel in Mlin Cafe in Cazin resulted in our longstanding friendship. Thus, I once had a chance to act as Admir’s official manager for the sale of drawings of good-looking Amazons dressed in BiH Army uniforms to the owner of a cafe in the same city. We earned fifty Convertible Marks from the sale and spent it on the delicious drink made of barley and hops. Later on, our friendship turned into a concrete form of artistic collaboration, and thus Jasna, Admir’s future wife, created a graphic design for my first book Pjesme u nastajanju (Acquired Poems) based on Admir’s drawing, and I mostly liked this book precisely because of its design. After that, I wrote a surrealistic poetic text for the exhibition catalogue of one of Admir’s first exhibitions. We increasingly began to engage with our own art in a more serious way, and during our soirees we would discuss literature and art, their unity and differences. This series of small prints is dominated by many motives from Admir’s first print series Journey. Here we have horses in a bustling crowd, dancing in a kind of vortex, created with precise strokes of a needle, then new fish motives, and, what prevails in these miniature prints: floating worlds or floating countries with structures that resemble the Bosnian religious buildings, like some symbiosis of church and mosque with fairy-tale children’s eyes, then houses like Russian nesting dolls that happily watch us from pieces of land floating like Magritte’s floating castles. I remember one of Admir’s drawings (which was included in the selection of the International Exhibition of Drawings in Rijeka in 2001), after the cycle Journey, titled Homeland in Exile, and I believe this drawing was the starting point for the majority of these small prints. Although I am no expert in fine arts, and I look at the work of art exclusively in a literary way, I believe that the metaphor of
Homeland in Exile is the central motif of this exhibition. Which, in my opinion, is another proof that the artist, no matter how hard he tried, cannot escape the reality that surrounds him. And this reality we live in, whether we want to admit it or not, is a sad, tragic living fresco in which it is almost impossible to achieve a life worthy of a human being. However, Admir’s floating worlds are anything but sad, they are tiny windows which the sun pours through. So these prints are not a direct anti-utopian view of the condition in which our spirits frantically fight for a small fragment of human happiness. They are primarily happy visions of a different, imaginary world from the artist’s imagination. Admir’s worlds are cheerful in an infantile way, in the way we, as children, enjoyed and escaped into literary or cinematic magical landscapes. What gives maturity and strength to these prints is a masterly stroke of a hand that draws its obsessions in a filigree manner. This Admir’s filigree style might reflect the wish of the artist to bring closer and explain the existing world to himself and others, to find the centre and meaning that marked the great modernist quest throughout the twentieth century. The quest for some of the basic human values: kindness or happiness, which have completely disappeared today or are seen as out-dated, ancient human flaws. This is just an impressionistic view of Admir’s floating worlds that, most probably, can also reflect that cursed feeling of exile and lack of belonging to the twentieth century, the whole of which can fit into Lt. Kilgore’s (Robert Duvall) quote: I love the smell of napalm in the morning, from Coppola’s unsurpassed movie Apocalypse Now. As it stands, we will be forever trapped in that same twentieth century, just like flies in amber. Admir’s prints, devoid of any pretentiousness, assure us that the power of art in dark times lies precisely in its fragility and helplessness against the gigantic dynamic of evil, which develops beyond our will, and that we can find salvation in the imagination that makes our private floating worlds possible. Faruk Šehić