Monografija - prvo izdanje - niska rezolucija

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Је дан дру ги сли кар из га ле ри је ме ђу рат них на и ваца,
до жи вео је „ори ги нал” суд би ну „про кле тог сли ка ра”, на
сво јој ко жи осе тив ши ко ли ко про клет ство мо же, по го то ву у
при ми тив ној сре ди ни, да бу де та ле нат и ства ра лач ки не мир.
Си на си ро ма шног ко чи ја ша из Бач ке Па лан ке, Пе те ра На ђапа
ти ја, под на дим ком „Ку кац” за пам ти ле су мно ге ло кал не
ка фа не. Тра ћио је свој ве ли ки та ле нат, сли ка ју ћи се ља ке
за ту ру пи ћа, лу тао рав ни цом оби ла зе ћи са ла ше где је портре
те бо га тим па о ри ма ра дио за стан и хра ну, по ни жа ва ли
су га да им сли ка оми ље ног во ла и нај дра жу сви њу. На шли
су га, из ну ре ног ал ко хо лом, ис пру же ног на сла ми у шта ли
ње го вог оца, мр твог.
Јанко Брашић, „Портрет мајке”
Janko Brašić, “Portrait of a mother”
On the opposite pole from this tortured soul was a great
and celebrated name, Emerik Feješ, who during his lifetime collected
postcards of foreign cities in the way that others collect
stamps (his inclination to small objects may be a result of his
profession as a comb and button maker). He made paintings
of the places he had never travelled to, using the postcards to
inspire his interpretation. From sleepy Novi Sad, whose coatof-arms
contains a dove, in his apartment, that resembled
that of a thousand neighbours, Feješ travelled throughout the
world, postcard by postcard. Emerik amused himself by listening
to “the music of the world” – Venetian gondolas sailed on
his modest kitchen tablecloth, Parisian pigeons cooed, Japanese
trains ran, the imams of minarets from Sarajevo sang.
All distant places were close to Emerik. Who would say that
inside this man was actually an adventurer and traveller, an
eternal Columbus, who was discovering new cities all the time,
“composing” them of multicoloured houses under intensive red
roofs, “solving” multicoloured painting “puzzles” – if there was
any profound story in the background, it could be the story
about the union of the general and the collective (a city seen
as a beehive with honeycomb and human bees flying over it).
He painted small windows with clear colours, small balconies,
with white zigzag lines marking tiles on curved roofs, adding
here and there some towers (representing his associations of
fairytale castles he read about in his childhood). In this way
he sang a children’s song about the richness and beauty of the
world, a truly touching and naïve song. A colourful one. But in
the works of his successors his “multicoloured colourful” was
transformed into the “black colourful”.
Oh, how joyful the images of village cemeteries and funerals
look in the paintings of naïve painters from the 1960’s.
These paintings represent the peasant, straightforward philosophy
that conveys life continuing despite death, and that the
charming beauty of life wins, with the philosophy of the village
commemorations for the dead, gatherings that usually begin in
sadness, then become relaxed thanks to food and drinks, and
finally end with singing (“And the favourite song of our deceased
friend was…”).
The Western audience was “consternated and impressed”
with the lively force and oceans of optimism in these self-taught
painters, yet not used to such dark atavisms of the human soul,
since many of them learned of the custom in Eastern Serbia