DAN VOINEA
2013 - 2012
A Momentary Rise of Reason installation view 1
A MOMENTARY RISE OF REASON / Installation View / April, 2013

A MOMENTARY RISE OF REASON / BEERS LAMBERT GALLERY, London / April - May, 2013

A Momentary Rise of Reason is the first UK solo exhibition of the work of Romanian painter Dan Voinea. Hailing from a new school of contemporary realist painting, Voinea and his contemporaries (fellow Romanian Adrian Ghenie, Belgian Michaël Borremans, or the UK’s own Justin Mortimer, to name a few) have not only endured an early 21st century phase that appeared to prefer whimsy and liberty over realism (consider momentarily the surge in popularity of work by Peter Doig, Cecily Brown or Gary Hume, for instance,) but have prevailed, spearheading the recent reinvigoration of realist painting occurring on an international scale to an unprecedented degree. However despite this revalued focus on ‘new realism’, even referring to Voinea’s paintings as ‘realist’ seems to partly miss the mark; certainly the works maintain an element of hyperrealist tendencies, and Voinea is a confident draftsman and storyteller. Yet while technically realistic and anatomically correctly proportioned, the works are characterized as much by their apparent lack of realism: their fantastical tendencies, collapsing or nondescript environments and preference for magic realist narratives. One need look only at the simple brilliance in the titular A Momentary Rise of Reason, 2012 to see the painter’s signature style: the pallor of bare skin against a stark, painterly background; a style situated paradoxically between the looseness of an sketch and the obsess of the hyperreal; all combined with thoughtfully restrained palette and an intense jolt of vibrant color; an obvious affinity for appropriated imagery and a narrative that simultaneously invites and resists the whims of the viewer to understand the tableaux. From one boldly confident painting to the next, one can almost hear the artist’s working whispers: there are no rules to Voinea’s world – and what a wonderful world becomes manifest for the viewer. Further, the paintings remain crucially aware of their art-historical context; Voinea’s love for the craft of both historical and contemporary painting shines through, subverting his influence and in a move of careful selection – intentionally flattening their temporal context: a nostalgia for some sepia-toned 1950s appears to recur, or perhaps it is the artist’s forlornness for some F. Scott Fitzgerald-worthy 1920s and 30s. At times Voinea seems like a disciple of celebrated American painter Andrew Wyeth, but at other times he throws the viewer back 100 years and his references are full of richly self-aware references to the fanciful Edwardian paintings of the 19th century. In fact, Voinea credits the ‘intervention’ of street-performers as a source of inspiration and raw material for some of his recent work. For him, the performers articulate a deliberate exercise in sanity and the absurd, where reality becomes intwined with the dreamlike. One can see a naturalized world within which ‘ordinary’ events have been interfered, and this new semantics breathed into life. In much of his work, everyday settings such as streets and hallways appear half-realized, as though articulated through paintings of backdrops – in which paintings of paintings or vaguely described sets interefere with our reception of reality and reason. For this purpose, Voinea employs a Shakespearean mise-en-scene: solemn tones are countered by comical interludes; characters within the paintings appear both absurdist and melancholic. It is a form of reality itself once divorced from reality, where life becomes gradually contaminated by a series of macabre overturns and stage-shadows. This paradox allows the viewer to draw their own conclusions without emphasizing difference; it aims – with the effortless narrative created by Voinea’s brushwork – to naturalize all elements into the same thing: a fleeting recognition, like deja-vu, in which the real and the absurd are countered in equal measure. It is a mastery of both composition and execution, with Voinea manipulating the painterly strings of the marionette.

PARADE, 2013 / oil on linen / 200 X 180 cm (78,74 x 76,86 in)
EVANESCENT, 2012 / oil on linen / 140 X 150 cm (62,99 x 76,86 in)
PERFORMANCE I, 2012 / oil on linen / 150 X 180 cm (59,05 x 70,86 in)
RISE OF REASON, 2012 / oil on linen / 150 X 140 cm (76,86 x 62,99 in)
IN ABSENTIA, 2012 / oil on linen / 150 X 130 cm (59,05 x 51,18 in)
PERFORMANCE III, 2013 / oil on linen / 200 X 180 cm (78,74 x 70,86 in)
PERFORMANCE II, 2012 / oil on linen / 160 X 200 cm (62,99 x 78,74 in)
SOLILOQUY, 2012 / oil on linen / 180 X 150 cm (70,86 x 59,05 in)

REASON AND REALITY: Dan Voinea's A Momentary Rise of Reason at Beers Lambert Contemporary

[ONE STOP ARTS – London, UK] By Simon Longman

A Momentary Rise of Reason at Beers Lambert Contemporary showcases Romanian artist Dan Voinea. Taking street performers as his subject, Voinea's is a bold aesthetic of manipulated traditionalism reworked intelligently to tell stories – to explore the fantasy of human interaction, and to present a visual theatre of surrealism. Dan Voinea's works at Beers Lambert Contemporary depicts the fantasy of the world of the street performer. What follows are eight paintings that brilliantly evoke the dizzying, chaotic atmosphere of realism colliding with abstraction. Street performers are a source of material that, for Voinea, exists in a space somewhere between reality and the absurd. The street performers' manipulation of reality allows them to conjure a space within the everyday world that deliberately thrives on fantasy and subversion. The atmosphere directly around the performers appears distorted – Voinea takes this feeling and immortalises that moment of reality and fantasy colliding to a brilliant effect. The paintings in A momentary rise of reason themselves all share a similar aesthetic. At a glance, the paintings seem rushed, the brush strokes harsh and fast, the colour palette made up of only browns, greys and blacks. The effect is a kind of hazy, distorted atmosphere – as if they are being viewed from a car speeding past the scene, allowing a moment of clarity, yet a scenario still blurred enough that one cannot fully comprehend what is happening. It is a brilliant effect, and one that plunges Voinea's work into a space somewhere between realism and fantasy. Voinea paints a claustrophobic world of pace, murky dynamism and utterly immersive stories. His world seems to be viewed through a filter, in which he is trying to work out what is important, what is happening and why these characters are doing this. His paintings are blurred in the background, emphasising his subjects more clearly than their seemingly grim environment. The exhibition's title painting, A Momentary Rise of Reason (2012), is a brilliant summary of the feeling presented through the artist's work. Here, a man stands half naked, his brittle arms hanging by his side as a woman throws a sheet over his head. Her face is one of pure concentration, her fingers holding the sheet delicately, as if she is worried about concealing her companion completely. The pure white of the sheet contrasts brilliantly with the dark background, which tells us nothing of where this event is taking place. However, from the curve and movement of the sheet, and the tense torso of the man, it appears that this is outside in the cold and wind. Two people are taking part in something strange that allows them to go beyond what their lives are normally like. Here surreal logic is prevailing and, for a moment, that act plunges the scene into fantasy, as we are challenged to interpret the scene accordingly. Moving around the gallery, it is clear that each painting has been created with a unique intention and by an artist masterfully in control of what he wishes to explore. Performance II (2013) depicts three characters in a row, heads upturned and mouths wide open, as if screaming to some unseen presence. The setting, again, is ambiguous, but more clues are presented to us: a rusty metal staircase, some heavy industrial roof beams and a raised platform on the floor suggest that we are in a factory. The relationship of the setting to the subjects is unclear. They are depicted on the left hand side of the painting, while the right depicts only th background. The two sides seem to be in conflict for our attention. When we stare at the figures, they are almost leaning out of the picture, determined to escape the space they find themselves in. Performance III (2013) depicts a similarly ambiguous scene, with a man in a white shirt leaning rigidly backwards as another man examines his feet. With his eyes closed, the standing man appears to be falling, but we somehow get the impression he will never actually topple. This exhibition showcases Voinea's skill excellently. It's a brilliant exploration of something genuinely unique in contemporary painting – a series of work that combines traditional realist narrative with contemporary abstraction to great effect. Gone is the contemporary fascination with lurid, colourful vibrancy and cleanliness, typical of what is now considered "modern". Here is a bold aesthetic of manipulated traditionalism reworked intelligently to tell stories – to explore the fantasy of human interaction, to present a visual theatre of surrealism. Odd then, that the gallery press release seems a little apologetic in its description of the work, priming people to see beyond their preconceived ideas of how realism should be regarded. When work is as accomplished as this, art should be able to speak for itself. And here it does, to a profound effect. The only disappointment is that the exhibition is too brief; stories as exciting as this deserve more devotion, and hopefully this is something that will come in the not too distant future. Date reviewed: Tuesday 16th April 2013

PAINTING IN A POST-COMMUNISM ERA

[Huffington Post – London, UK] By Lorenzo Belenger

Arts writer, visual artist, curator. Although the Berlin Wall started coming down over twenty years ago and, by then, Communism as an ideology became a thing of the past in Europe, the influence over a young, and not so young, generation of painters remains. The New Leipzig School in East Germany, and the Romanian school, seem to have a common key point: technique. While the Western European schools jumped on the Conceptualist wagon; the Eastern European bloc continued with the traditional training method of concentrating on the disciplines of figurative art. They drew from nude models and learnt to master the techniques of perspective. A worldwide appetite for well-crafted paintings that were more and more difficult to find were awaiting. Beers.Lambert Contemporary in Shoreditch, London, is presenting us with a solo show by Dan Voinea, who graduated in 1997 from the National University of Arts in Bucharest. Voinea confronts the audience with highly constraint and claustrophobic set of scenes with a hidden narrative that leaves the viewer intrigued; not by what they are seeing, but by what they not. He pushes the boundaries between realism and surrealism. Exceptionally well-executed, they are a treat to watch. Kurt Beers, previously a communications manager who worked for two former prime ministers in Canada, is now the director at Beers.Lambert Contemporary. He has kindly agreed to explain us why he chose Voinea for an exhibition at his gallery. What struck you first to invite Voinea to a solo show? The gallery maintains a loose focus on painters through our exhibition schedule, but at times it can be difficult to find a painter that conveys the right kind of perspective consistently to warrant a solo show. Further to this is a book I am writing with the publishers Thames & Hudson, entitled 100 Painters of Tomorrow, and I have my eyes peeled for new and interesting perspective in painting. I also feel that right now on the international art scene the tides seem to be shifting - ever so minutely - toward a reinvested interest in figurative painting. We are seeing more and more figuration in various guises, paired with technical brilliance, and Dan is one of these artists that assumes a distinct voice paired with strong technical ability. I had been following the careers of Dan and a number of painters with similar tendencies, but Dan's work spoke to me on a number of levels. Furthermore I felt that the gallery hadn't quite exhibited anything quite like this previously; there is such a saturation and drama to his works, alongside a real adherence to realism that is countered quite radically by abstraction. What differences and similarities can you point out with other established Romanian painters such as Ghenie? I think more importantly than pointing out the similarities and/or differences - and clearly there are both - is to make note of the trends that are occurring internationally. There appears to be something of a 'Romanian School' of painting surfacing the past couple of years with Ghenie more or less spearheading this movement, but artists historically have operated and worked within and in opposition of groups, micro-movements, and similarities in ideology and tendency. An easy comparison is to consider the Surrealists, I think its foolish to assume that only one of these artists pinpointed the movement or articulated what Surrealism truly was and is: what is exciting is to think a group of artists are working in a manner that can still be considered new and exciting in today's artistic economy. I do think that Dan articulates certain elements in his paintings that are unparalleled by the others working in this method, and that's why I wanted to exhibit his works. There is a real methodical purpose to these works, a precision of both painterliness and narrative that is total subverted within the confines of the same painting. A Momentary Rise of Reason is an exhibition in uncertain times. It is a pause, a reflexion, of a reality that currently borders the surreal.

A MOMENTARY RISE OF REASON WITH DAN VOINEA

[Indie Rocks! Magazine – Mexico] By Karen Velázquez

Can you tell us when and how did Dan Voinea realize that art was his vocation? I realize I still cannot call it vocation. As a matter of fact, to me art (drawing as a child, painting now, as a grown up) has always been a weakness, not a top quality. It may be that the closer I get to achieving an oeuvre, the happier I am to call it a "vocation”. :-) What did you want to portray, to show to the world, back in the day when you started your artistic career? I believe that any artist reveals himself, whatever the artistic means he may use. While I was working in advertising I was obsessed with any form of rebellion - that is why in 2008 I only painted "heroes" and "judges". I have been working as a professional painter for three years. Everything I have painted in the past three years reveals my obsessions and yearnings. I feel totally confused when people expect answers from my works. I am helpless and disappointed, as I really have no answers and solutions to share. All I can offer is a new set of questions. What is the tendency you followed first, and which one do you follow now? I was absorbed by Fancis Bacon's technique and style for quite a few years, after I graduated the Art Academy. They still haunt me to this very day. It was only in 2009 that I discovered the school of Leipzig and the new trends in European contemporary art. At that point I decided to replace the chaotic movement of the characters by subject matters whose dynamics is rather claustrophobic, introvert. Would you like to explore a different pictorial trend? I would very much like to interfere with abstract painting. It is a sort of duty I feel I owe to "figurative" painting I practise. The only purely figurative painting I admire and really value is Byzantine icon painting. What artists have influenced your work? , Who do you admire the most? As I said, Francis Bacon was the first major artist who inspired me. Fortunately, I came to admire other contemporary artists, too: Jean Rustin, Johannes Kahrs, Matthias Weischer, Eberhard Havekost, Neo Rauch and many others. I must say I distinctly appreciate Gerhard Richter's works. Do you have a special place and a special moment to take the brush and start your amazing creations, or do you paint anytime, anywhere? Painting is very much like any other activity. That is why I start work early in the morning, in my studio. Moments of grace and inspiration are neither frequent, nor spectacular. Whoever waits for a moment of revelation before he starts painting may be disappointed, as it takes quite a lot of time before such a moment occurs… Why did you decide to explore the majesty of the shapes and colors through painting?, why not sculpture or any other discipline? As a child I would dream of playing the piano, so my parents bought me an accordion, which was cheaper than a piano. I practised for a few years, and later I started playing the flute and harmonica. Yet, I still dreamt of drawing, as it helped me to imagine everything I didn't have, as it now helps me to visualize everything I would like to delete in my life. :-) What did you intend to manifest when you mixed the modern age with the faded color of early photos? My works used to be to colourful, that is why they were thought of as too "optimistic" or to “joyous”. Such an approach devoided them of weight and was hardly close to what I really meant. Then I found millions of vintage photos on the net. Their only charm lay in their faded colours or in their black and white composition. I knew what I had to do right away, and I gradually replaced colours by faded nuances of sepia. Do you think too much to come up with a theme for the series you make, or inspiration comes out of a sudden, and then you start painting a certain topic? I believe in hard and well structured work. That is why my ideas and sketches I devise together with the photo sessions (all of them being part of a detailed work in progress) slow down my canvas work. How that Dan is so fascinated with the absurd and sanity at the same time, that he was motivated to play with those opposite topics in your art work? That is a tough one. I guess that fascination comes from joining the two of them, doesn't it? We must admit that such a cooperation between the rational and the absurd is part of present reality, even if it is not spectacularly represented and is not evident. Reality often suggests to me both realistic and absurd (or surreal) images. I am sorry I cannot give you an example now. I can find a nostalgic touch in all of your pieces, why did you add this melancholy to your work? I did not want to be nostalgic at all. As I said, painting means being subjective. I must have had rather awkward experiences while I was painting the “Playboy Afternoon” series, and they could be reflected in those works in a way. How do you feel that your work has left Romania and France, it has been exhibited in the UK since last month, and it has been circulating all around the world thanks to Internet? World-side appreciation can only flatter me, of course. I would say that two circuits overlap to a certain extent: the open circuit (internet, bloggers) and the closed one (galleries, collectors). For the time being I would like to thank the third circuit: the written press, namely the guys from Indie Rocks. Thanks to you I can get to know art loving audiences from Mexico. What do the melting bodies mean for you? Such an image has no specific meaning, really. I avoid as much as I can illustrating metaphors. On the other hand, I must admit: the characters I paint almost ask for such an approach. Yet, such bodies are supported by a subjective perspective alone, as they are fragmentally recovered from memory. Why the name “A Momentary Rise of Reason”?, what did you understand, or were able to appreciate during that short period of eloquence, that the name of this solo exhibit describes? I played upon the title of Pink Floyd’s 1987 album, “A Momentary Lapse of Reason”. The phrase, I think, describes best both the selection of ideas, and the "final touch", that "momentary rise of reason" that makes all come together. What are your upcoming plans? To cross the ocean with my works and get to the States, maybe to NY. And, why not, to Mexico

MEETING BABA I, 2013-2021 / oil on linen / 74 X 72 cm (29,13 x 28,34 in)
MEETING BABA III, 2013-2021 / oil on linen / 55 X 60 cm (21,65 x 23,62 in)
MEETING BABA II, 2013-2021 / oil on linen / 65 X 60 cm (25,59 x 23,62 in)
PERFORMANCE V, 2013/ oil on linen / 125 X 160 cm (49,21 x 62,99 in)
TANGO 2013 / oil on linen / 200 X 180 cm (78,74 x 70,86 in)
PERFORMANCE IV 2013 / oil on linen / 200 X 180 cm (78,74 x 70,86 in)

A LUCKY CURSE

[Lodown Magazine – Berlin, Germany] by Renko Heuer

Hailing from Bucharest, Romania, Dan Voinea’s figurative paintings always veer towards the abstract and surreal, and there’s always something very, very unsettling about them, something like an existential threat, like a crack in what most people believe to be right and true. Having quit his former job in advertising to focus on his artistic output quite recently, he luckily found the time to chat with Lodown about professionalism, growing up in a totalitarian system, and his fear of growing a gut. When did you first realize that you’re obsessed with professionalism? It was when I completed a work and, instead of framing it, I felt like throwing it to a rubbish bin. It hurts a bit at first, yes, but you get used to it. But then, am I really obsessed with professionalism or is it only a fear of being conventional? In your case, does that mean we’re only talking painting here – or are you steering towards professionalism in other areas as well? I worked in advertising from 2000 to 2011, and it was a highly competitive environment. And, mind you, ex-communist Eastern European countries had no tradition in that respect. There is so much more to say about professionalism, but surely there are others who are much more entitled than me to speak about it. So, painting: What did your works look like when you just started out, at age 5? Nothing special, really. There were mere horse-looking drawings, at best. It was kind of a play I never had enough of. As you get older – does it get easier to paint or just the other way around? The older I get, the more exigent I become. Besides, that which comes easily, bores you even more easily. I instinctively head towards more difficult stuff, as I train for the inaccessible. I am obsessed with performance. When I get over it, I may well be ready to paint Byzantine, Orthodox icons. How about life in general (as for easier vs. more difficult)? Outside work, I am more balanced. I simply cannot be absorbed by painting as long as my inner life is troubled. I guess it (life) must have felt somewhat difficult back in 1987 when the fuss about those anti-communist messages came up... right? At the time I couldn’t tell the difference between a totalitarian regime and a democratic one. I did see the risks involved in an over-democratic society – after all, I was born in a strict and totalitarian country, I got used to obey the rules because I grew in such a system. When I was about to be expelled from school, I surmised that adults, too, feared something. Or somebody, I should say… What is so scary about being conventional? And how can you ever be sure that in a world that’s so much about individuality and personality, that trying to avoid conventionality isn’t a convention in itself? I’m not concerned with my attitude as a human being and as an artist. It’s not this kind of attitude that is judged upon. We could talk for hours on end about what being “conventional” means, if you want, but I only used it pejoratively. I can afford being conventional, yet, what matters most is that art shouldn’t be conventional, lifeless, and soulless. Still born art is nonsense. 11 years of advertising... that’s a long time. What are some of the main lessions that decade taught you? What was the worst part? Team work in an advertising agency disciplines and makes you feel responsible. Those famous deadlines are so rigid that make you maximize your effort. Working in advertising has been teaching me the tough lesson of efficiency. What I must have found the hardest to bear in those 11 years was the lack of identity. (Who’d be more entitled to speak about professionalism?) I find it rather inappropriate to talk about professionalism since I’ve been a professional painter for only three years. But you are a professional in the sense that you don’t do any other job apart from painting, am I right? I do believe that such definition is the best way to describe my current state. How come you feel you need to train for the inaccessible? What is so intriguing about the inaccessible? (And why share that kind of work with other human beings)? I think each of us is fascinated by what he can’t seem to do. It’s unbearable to feel weak. When I paint, I try to push the limits and I guess any artist will do so, I’m not the only one. An artist wants by nature both to find new means of expression and to share his work. It’s a sort of feedback, it you like. There wouldn’t be any exhibitions otherwise, would there? So painting isn’t a way to achieve order in life (as in catharsis, in a sense)? You need the state of order first… but don’t the images you paint (the scenes you create on canvas) almost threaten that order? Even if the world of images I create may be the result of emotion, it has no power on me. My paintings have a single risk factor (which can damage the harmony we are talking about): their own failure. But then, it’s like in any other job, so you can get used to it. On the other hand, an image can shock its audiences alone; it never shocks the artist who created it. When my mother would finish making pan cakes in the kitchen, she hardly tasted one. She found no more joy in making them :-). You once said that you tried to paint less and less “like yourself” – why? Isn’t it a greater achievement to find that “voice”, that “style” that is yours and work on it forever after? Artistic identity is an ideal you keep working on until your last breath, but this is not what I meant. I was just referring to my little moments of dissatisfaction. It was a way of making myself more aware of my own imperfection. You sound so very serious in what you’ve said so far, what made you become such a serious man? I don’t know, maybe your (own) questions :) Painting is a subject I can’t afford to take lightly, even though I do believe that an artist mustn’t always take himself too seriously. However, I also think that if one leaves advertising and tries to make a living by painting, he must at least have a sense of humor. And how exactly is painting an expression of your own desperation? Now, see? If you’re asking me to be precise I’m bound to lose all my sense of humor :) Imagine a meat grinder with its funnel filled to the rim with obsessions, turmoil, all sorts of demands and other abstractions. And when you start turning the winch all that comes out is painting. Since bodies play such an important role in your work, how’s your relationship with your own body? I like sports and I practise cycling with unspeakable pleasure. In the evenings I jog on a nearby running track. I got an almost comical fear of growing a gut. I can’t afford to grow one since I am my own model sometimes. A lot of your images look very 20th century, earlier 20th century even – how come? Not only do I use photographs from the last century as a source of inspiration, but I also have a soft spot for old photos, especially amateur ones. Their seduction comes from a sort of nostalgia without resolve, they radiate a special kind of metaphysics. It’s pretty hard to resist. There’s this sense of unease, sometimes even terror, about your characters, this unsettling element, like an existential threat hovering over the people shown. Is that how you feel yourself sometimes? I generally avoid identifying/confusing myself with my work, but I can’t deny the empirical factor of it. So the answer is yes. How do you usually get started with a painting anyway? How do you find the right person, the right backdrop to create this open-ended, unsettling, mysterious realm? It’s a time consuming process which includes lots of sketches, web research, photo sessions, collages or digital editing and ultimately the canvas itself. Each composition goes through various versions until the final one. Not to mention the experimental ones. In the studio phase, the models who pose for me rarely represent an ideal solution in themselves. It’s only when I put them on the canvas that I realize how lucky I was that they posed. Wow, cycling – I’m hugely into that as well: what kind of bike you’re racing? Steel? Carbone? Hi-end or rather retro flavored? Steel. I have a very nice white hardtail mountain bike. And I even gave it a name: Caroline. Michael Borremans also went from found photos to staging situations himself – and eventually even to short films that have certain similar qualities like painting. Could you imagine working with (slow-moving) video as well? Why not? Anything really can be a source of inspiration in art, especially movies. Yet, intermediate frames do challenge my imagination much more than still frames. Once frozen, they end up like abstract pictures with a fabulous power of suggestion. What are you currently working on, and what can you announce for the rest of the year? I took a break following my solo exhibition in London, then I resumed work with a fresh start. I may well have an exhibition on the continent in about 6 months, and in the States next year. Due to the big size projects I have started to work on, I have to look for a larger studio. Any chance you’re going to show some work in Berlin soon? It may come as a surprise to you, but I do want to work in Berlin from July on. I hope I will find a studio in this city oozing with art. I’d love to have an exhibition in Berlin, but no one has contacted me in this respect so far. What else makes you realize how lucky you are? I know it sounds rather ordinary and predictable, but the first thing that comes to my mind are my family and my friends. And I do have lots of friends. I feel I’m unworthy of them. At times I feel lucky that I’m into painting. Yet, on second thoughts, I’d rather say that painting is just my lucky curse :)