[…] Onemight well think that monochromy
would bear rather peculiar children: to settle down, seize space,
take shape – to finally have a belly full of monotony and henceforth
enjoy only orgiastic celebrations. Monochromy has finally carved
out a sphere of action for itself, performs joyous dances and ferocious
parties. At last unchained, her offspring begin devouring each other,
goad each other on to acts of mass procreation, never tire in gaining
ever increasing amounts of pleasure and to infect their surroundings
therewith.
For us, there is no alternative other than to participate. Complete.
Whoever withdraws sees nothing, whoever declines, loses everything.
There is no such thing as an observer, participation is demanded: risk.
Perhaps, since it is these very agile roots which, from the other side,
from beyond the screen, from another heaven advance in upon us; in
search of sustenance, of symbionts, of us.
Does art history root itself there in the contemporary
screens or is the screen, is that heaven which we know so well
indeed no limit?
The way to clarify what it is that lays behind leads us directly
into the thick of it, right through the middle. And there is to be
found – who knows – perhaps, those shining magical beings
who turn away from any expectations that are brought along, the prima
ballerinas that effortlessly stem the laocoön-group and thus
redeem that very ancient heroism from the spell of melancholia – in
a sensation rich sphere in the unison of word, image, picture and
tone – there, where things are not anxiously weighed up, mutually
excluded, reciprocally condemned.
Whatever else may be the case, one ought not to imagine that the
peace in zenita-city is insipid. (There, are to be found full-bosomed
life bestowing pictures) […]
Markus Mittringer – extract from an essay on Zenita Komad’s
current productive
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