Hey there people! ( May, 2013 )

I am Rock.

I am in good shape, feeling good. The energy for work had been maintained on the same full level against all odds, but even if there had been actual brakes and slow-downs my alertness on composition had never faded. Naturally I saw mountains in the beach sand during this "vacation", the inner projections continued to appear even after shutting down the studio. Silence, contemplation, playing with printing in the sand. Letting go the last traces of the urge. At the end one moral imperative got rooted out, gone traceless as a smoke-ring, as a wave. But what's life... Art is a tool to register your presence for a cognitive account which serves you in your studies on life. I discovered some things in the idleness, again, but will give you no lectures. In painting there will be a shift from the figurative narrative, the so called “realistic” into a more abstract, translucent vision. This is how I imagine it NOW, but of course, what this new direction is I can't say today. We mature in life in the most unexpected situations, our actions ripen to insight without a warning, and where I am now, surprise, you may have passed it in your teens already. You recognize things and accordingly by will you adjust and evolve. The experience on the beach and the absence of work was profound. The Indian Ocean, water warm, one floats for hours, fish jump over you and sea hawks cruise in the air. I sunk into the sand for timeless eternity and was feeding only on the natural beauty. The coconut conspiracy... I also realized that an earlier so called prehistoric humanity must have had a different take on the visual experience and related to life differently, since there was little to do, food in plenty, they must have been sitting and watching the world as an ever-changing phenomenon in pure beauty. It's ridiculous to try describing this beauty, like a fractal it manifests itself in all its insignificant detail. Truly, a month after the beach I read a scientific news which confirmed that the Neanderthal Sapience had twice as big of eye-sockets and therefore eyes as we Sapience have. Over this double, triple and exponential capacity of a visual field occupying and satisfying the mind with wonders it's no miracle that history had passed away with them after all. When they met the modern Sapience, us, their morality in contrast to ours may have been the question: why to change the world, it's beautiful as it is.

As you zoom in on the images and maybe realize the touch and structure of the paint, and again as zooming out we may meet in that mutual space of illusion it creates. …. I follow you in this imaginary show, walking slowly from image to image. I tell you that I see no paint there, and at moments I can't even see the painting itself. You should though remain in front of one image for some days before it truly and totally reveals itself, these projections claim nothing else but silence and then they start talking. Giving you a virtual gallery guide and talk would be of course non-sense. Or wouldn't it. Maybe next time at the end of this year's summer season if we all get down safe. For now: (the artist places) three abstract golden peaks in the painting ”Belles” in front of an agonizing anatomy of mountains. The back-ground figures of a mountain range are in upheaval, they are on heat, seismic, way above Schumann Resonance of 7.83 Hz. These golden gestures or yellow sticks stand out in contrast to the mountains, but in contrast only as a simplified abstraction, a reduction of the sum substance of the essence of the body of the mountains. They are mystical tangible resonance tolling on high altitude frequency. The crown of The Gate series. ”Marygold” is a five minute bravado using the leftover of mixed and broken-in paint from the palette as for saving it from waste. The close-up of flowers motif returns in this classic Solymosi study. Or as you zoom in on The Everest Trail paintings, ”Lotse & Co.” , you magically re-compose the image and get to the body of the Lotse Range making it to one blue surface, a masterpiece in monochrome abstract painting mixing one blue with two whites.

Nobody says it clearer about this something of a discovery as Henry Miller does in The Colossus of Maroussi. In 1939 when the war had just broken out in Europe, Henry Miller left Paris for Greece and spent eight months there island-hopping before shipping out of Europe for good. The later journal of this trip and the stories told in it search for Man and it documents his finding of Him. The contours of this mysterious man in picture suggest that it is Katsimbalis who could with a shout from the Acropolis in a magic moment of the morning after a night-long drinking party make all cockcrows of Athens, all roosters of Greece, all the birds of the world shout back in a cacophony! The catharsis in the book comes when Miller visits a soothsayer in Athens who predicts and describes his life with amazing accuracy. Among other things he is told that he, Miller, would never die. I have said it too earlier, and without knowing this passage, after reading The Rosy Crucifixion, wherein he reveals a Tantric (and it's not because of the sex in it) way and full spectrum vision of reality. A Bodhisattva, who “had all the signs of divinity and the same time his feet were chained to the earth”. After these lines and the meeting with the soothsayer Miller clarifies it in the following which could also pass as an artist's statement of his:

“I was of course profoundly impressed by the interview. More than anything I felt chastened. Aside from the enigmatic reference to my not dying nothing he predicted for my future astounded me. I have always expected everything in the world and have always been ready to to give everything. I had also, even before leaving Paris, the conviction that I would eventually break the vicious chain of cycles which, as he said, were usually of seven years' duration. I had left Paris before the war knowing that my life there had come to an end. The decision to take a vacation for one year, to abstain from writing during that time, the very choice of Greece which, as I see it now, was the only country which could satisfy my inner needs, all this was significant. In the last year or two in Paris I had been hinting to my friends that I would one day give up writing altogether, give it up voluntarily – at the moment when I would feel myself in possession of the greatest power and mastery. The study of Balzac, which was my final work in Paris, had corroborated a thought which had begun to crystallize in me, namely that the life of the artist, his devotion to art, is the highest and last phase of egotism in man. There are friends who tell me that I will never stop writing, that I can't. But I did stop, for a good interval while in Greece, and I know that I can in the future, any time I wish, and for good. I feel under no compulsion to do any particular thing. I feel, on the contrary, a growing liberation, supplemented more and more by a desire to serve the world in the highest possible way. What that way is I have not yet determined, but it seems clear to me that I shall pass from art to life, to exemplify whatever I have mastered through art by my living. I said I felt chastened. It is true that I also felt exalted. But above all I felt a responsibility such as I had never known before. A sense of responsibility towards myself, let me hasten to add. Without tasting the rewards which he had spoken of I had nevertheless enjoyed them in advance, enjoyed them imaginatively, I mean. During all the years that I have been writing, I have steeled myself to the idea that I would not really be accepted, at least to my own countrymen, until after my death. Many times, in writing, I have looked over my own shoulder from beyond the grave, more alive to the reactions of those to come than to those of my contemporaries. A good part of my life has, in a way, been lived in the future. With regard to all that vitally concerns me I am really a dead man, alive only to a very few who, like myself, could not wait for the world to catch up with them. I do not say this out of pride or vanity, but with humility not untouched with sadness. Sadness is hardly the right word either, since I neither regret the course I have followed nor desire things to be any different than they are. I know now what the world is like and knowing I accept it, both the good and the evil. To live creatively, I have discovered, means to live more and more unselfishly, to live more and more into the world, identifying oneself with it and thus influencing it at the core, so to speak. Art, like religion, it now seems to me, is only a preparation, an initiation into the way of life. The goal is liberation, freedom, which means assuming greater responsibility. To continue writing beyond of self-realization seems futile and arresting. The mastery of any form of expression should lead inevitably to the final expression – mastery of life. In this realm one is absolutely alone, face to face with the very elements of creation. It is an experiment whose outcome nobody can predict”.

With best wishes to you all!


MANIFESTO

1

To all of us!
The World is prepared for a new Renaissance. This World, of whatever metaphysical conception to define, is ready and receptive at any time for a new Renaissance in the Arts and Sciences of Man.
And it's your choice, right? Ladies, and Gentlemen, return to the naked Truth!
Renewal. A new Base, a new Beginning. A new Truth! and not as a manipulated synthesis of existing half-truths, half-existing so to say founded on hear-say such as religious assumptions, faith in political correctness and social harmony, academic faculties on science fictive - lies, yet with all of it and have the fortune-tellers right! But a Shift to a higher gear!
The World is ready for a New Art manifesting our vision! All continents, all denominations! A new Science in definition and purpose to be defined and pursued!
Recognizing the principles of a newly found morality through an optics which does not only perceive but projects clear vision and insight is the way. Let there be new Schools where an elevated perspective is taught fixed on one field in the hundredth dimension or on as many points as none! Let it transcend us at last, the Ultimate Man!


2

This is My intercontinental ballistic missile!

All prevailing “popular” ideologies and theologies end history, and if history is at its end, then certainly the art-historians and anybody who claims he knows Man also have brought the history of arts to a seemingly final conclusion where the Artist is desired dead so men can live dead and harmless lives! This Nihilism can be recognized and overcome! Hear no preacher here, it's no prophesy! Against all odds and politics the formula of freedom now on is not that everything is allowed but that anything is possible! Therefore we make New Arts!

Instead of Schrödinger's cat dying or alive, we New think in happy self-confidence and with sweet sounds of music for the third ear, maybe even into two equally endless spectra of space-time for fun, and we New might think orange or ruby but we definitely pull the trigger, Now! (If you don't get it at first, please, pull the trigger for some time with the safety on!) The conditioned moral imperative a la Kant has to be recognized and overcome.. Place your attention on the real goal again by establishing new focal points around your model, for what you are in your today is not the Man you can be at hand in action! Therefore we make New Sciences!


3

I authorize you to learn new languages in the Arts and Sciences, advance and excel in them as you have always done thus reaching here of the day. Recite poetry! Chant! Verses! New Verses! I declare you to be able to bend your fate like Beckham! Sport! Charge ahead as you have always done! Conditioned patterns of mind ought to be abandoned while contemplatively study the process of unloading! At the same time establish new laws with lullabies contradicting and braking the in-habited laws of word! Be a Law-maker! Unveil new designs! Be the system itself! To be in the league I demand of you to establish new systems for the Arts!

It's high tide for a new Renaissance! Re-interpret, re-do., re-cognize! Allow to manifest in order to overcome, as the flower brings fruit and then, ferment! Any surprise?


(Peter Solymosi - 21/3. 2012)


Manifest

1.

Till oss alla!
Världen är redo för en ny Renässans.
Av vilket som helst metafysiskt koncept den ma vara föreställd, denna Värld är redo och i varje ögonblick mottaglig för en ny Renässans i Människans Konst och Vetenskap.
Detta bör vara ditt eget val, eller hur! Mina Damer och Herrar, den nakna Sanningen!
Förnyelse. En ny Bas, en ny Början. En ny Sanning! Men icke som en manipulerad syntes av nuvarande halv-sanningar, halv-existerande sa att säga, grundad pa rykten som religiösa antaganden, tron i politisk korrekthet och social harmoni, akademikerns science fictive - lögner, dock med allt det här i bagaget! Växla i högre växel!
Världen är redo för en Ny Konst som förverkligar var vision! Till alla kontinenter, alla samfund! Vi behöver eftersträva nya mal och nya definitioner! En ny Vetenskap vars definition och syfte ma definieras och fullföljas!
Vägen framför oss bestar av att kunna betrakta den nyupptäckta moralen genom en optik som inte enbart mottar men ocksa projicerar var tydliga vy och insikt. Lat nya Skolor ta form där man undervisar i ett högre perspektiv vilket är baserat pa fältet i den hundrade dimensionen eller pa inga referenspunkter alls! Lat oss till slut övervinna den Ultimata Människan!

2.

Detta är min interkontinentala ballistiska missil!

Alla härskande och ”populära” ideologier och teologin sätter punkt pa människans historia. Om historien har tagit slut far vi tacka det till konsthistorikerna och alla dem som tror sig känna människan. Är det sa att människor kan leva sina utarmade, oskyldiga liv medan Konstnären är som han ska vara – död? Denna Nihilism kan bli avslöjad och övervunnen. Det är ingen predikan! Fran och med nu och i motsatts till all politik gäller det en ny frihetsdeklaration: i stället för att allt är tillatet menar vi att vad som helst är m0jligt! Därför skapar vi Nya Konster!

Schrödingers katt gar varken död eller levande, vi Nya föreställer oss världen med glädjerik självtillit och med klingande toner i det tredje örat, kanske även in i tva ändlösa universum om det sa behagas, men vi Nya säger att apelsinens motsatts är rubiner, och vi trycker definitivt av, nu! (om det är svart att första det i början, tryck av medan vapnet är säkrat!) Det betingade moraliska imperativet sasom Kant beskriver det kan upptäckas och bli övervunnet. Koncentrera pa det riktiga malet igen genom att skapa nya fokus punkter kring din modell, ty vad du är idag är inte vad Människan kan bli. Därför skapar vi Nya Vetenskaper!

3.

Du har min fullmakt till att studera nya sprak i Konst och Vetenskap, gör framgang och utmärk dig i dem sasom du alltid har gjort det och saledes natt den position var du befinner dig idag. Framför poesi! Sjung! Skriv dikter! Nya Dikter! Jag förklarar att du kan vända ditt öde! Alltid framat! Betingade mentala mönster bör lämnas och samtidigt studera kontemplativt hur man lastar dem av! Etablera nya lagar med barnremsor som motsäger och bryter ordens vanliga mening! Bli Lagstiftare! Avslöja nya design! Var systemet självt! För att vara lagkamrat kräver jag av dig att du skapar nya system för Konsterna!

Det är hög tid för en ny Renässans! Omtolka, gör om, känn igen! Tillat det att manifestera sig för att kunna övervinna det, liksom blomman som blir till frukt och sedan fermenteras! Är nagon överraskad?

Peter Solymosi – 21/3. 2012

Humanista Kiáltvány!

1

Mindannyiunknak!
A Világ felkészült egy új Reneszánszra.
Ez a Világ, bármely metafizikai elképzelés szerint is fogalmazod meg, készen áll és minden pillanatában fogékony egy új Reneszánszra az Ember Művészete és Tudománya terén.
Választásod szerint, ugye? Hölgyeim és uraim, a meztelen Igazság!
Megújulás. Új Bázis, Újrakezdés. Egy új Igazság! de nem a létező féligazságok manipulált szintéziseként amolyan zombimód vallási indoktrinálásból mondva, alaptalan feltételezésre építve, politikai korrektségből vagy társadalmi harmónia nevében, akadémiai fakultáns (science fictive) mögé bújva - hazugságok, és mégis mindezekkel! Sebességváltás egy magasabb fokozatra!
A Világ kész elképzelésünk megvalósítására az Új Művészetekben. Minden földrészen, minden felekezetben! Cél az új Tudomány meghatározása és elérése!
Megérteni az újonnan megtalált erkölcs-elveket egy olyan optikán keresztül ami nem csak észlel és befogad, hanem tiszta víziót és eleven felismerést is vetít. Le a hittannal és papi pedofíliával! Legyenek új Iskolák ahol egy magasabb perspektívát tanítunk fixálva azt a századik dimenzió síkján vagy annyi ponton mint a semmi! Átszellemülni, transzcendálni minket, a Végső Embert!

2

Ez az Én interkontinentális hordozórakétám!

Minden jelenlegi „népszerű” ideológia és teológia pontot tesz a történelem végére, és ha a történelmeknek vége, akkor a múvészettörténész és bárki Ember-ismerete látszatra végső következtetésként szintén befejezi a művészetek történelmét, hogy a holtnak kívánt Művész mellet az emberek ártalmatlan, halott életet élhessenek. Ez a Nihilizmus felismerhető és túlléphető! Ne hallj ki ebből hittérítést, ez nem prófécia! A szabadság formulája a politika és mindenek ellenére nem az hogy innentől minden megengedett, hanem hogy bármi lehetséges! Ezért teremtünk Új Múvészeteket!

Schrödinger élet-halál macskája helyett mi Újak harmadik fülbe szóló édes zenével és vidám önbizalommal gondolkodunk, szórakozásképp akár két egyenlően végtelen tér-idő spektrumban, és gondolva narancsra vagy rubinra mi mindenképp meghúzzk a ravaszt, Most! (Ha nem értetted meg elsőre, kérlek, egy jó darabig biztosítékkal húzogasd!) A Kant féle erkölcsi felszólítás reflexét fel kell ismerni és túl kell lépni. Helyezd figyelmed újra a valós célra megteremtve modeled körül frissen megfogalmazott fókusz-pontokat, mert ami ma vagy az nem az Ember aki munkádon át lehetsz! Ezért teremtünk Új Tudományokat!

3

Felhatalmazlak új nyelvek elsajátítására a Művészetekben és Tudományokban! Haladj és légy kiváló bennük, ahogy azt eddig is tetted elérve a mát. Szavalj! Énekelj! Verseket! Új Verseket! Kinyilvánítom, hogy képes vagy fordítani sorsodon! Mozgás!! Törj előre, de ne úgy mint ez az elmebeteg orbáni rendszer! Ahogy azt mindig tetted! Mivel emberré váltál. Vagy még nem vagy az? Illő elhagynod a feltételes mentális beidegződéseket, s míg ezt szemléled, tanulmányozd a csomag-lepakolás folyamatát! Egyidejűleg alakíts új törvényeket a mondóka erejével ellentmondva és megtörve a szó belakott szabályait! Legyél Törvényíró! Új terveket! Legyél a rendszer! Csapattársként megkövetelem tőled, hogy új rendszert teremts a Művészeteknek!

A dagály fordul, itt az idő az új Reneszánszra! Átértelmezni, újra értelmezni! Újítani! Ráismerni, felismerni! Engedd megjelenni hogy túl tudd lépni, ahogy a virág gyümölcsöt hoz, majd megerjed! Ez meglep valakit?


NEW NEPAL SERIES

These works on paper are "prints on paper" and the paper is Nepali hand-made bark-paper.

The original thought with these series was to collect universal symbols such as mandala, swastika and others mainly for a contemporary story's sake in the year 2064 Anno Nepal ( Dec.2007 - Jan. 2008 )

For such stories to tell there is Mao in a pool of blood stamped by a sewer cover as on a passport photo. Surprisingly, when printing that cover on the street in Katmandu the passers-by stopping to look at seemed not to recognize the picture of the man in the hat - sadly they will learn too soon.

King of Diamonds - perhaps a fortune lost overnight on the wheel at the Casino.

Size doesn't matter, some say, it's the angle which counts. All is figured out in the Kama Sutra

The people and country of Nepal may carry and exemplify an everlasting human contradiction. These beautiful and pure eyes, the heart-breaking respect the traveler learns to receive and to express; at the same time within this archaic and magnificent environment the presence of self-destructing wild ignorance with an approaching Communist mob and a scheduled cultural revolution, shadows of disaster to come. A "special" state; passing states, states of mind.

All papers are from this historical moment of a chaotic but beautiful Nepal.


THE SEVENTH DAY - AN INITIATION

All words are abstract symbols. Such is the word "god" which aims to name something extraordinary and divine, something of an insight. It's a symbol.
So are the days, symbols for an interconnected continuum just as days and nights are.

The Biblical Genesis and its seven-day story is a "mind-map", its visual tool of contemplation is the six-pointed mandala, the Star of David. As a map it gives a thorough clarification of the inner qualities of the human mind, each of the days takes on the quality of the one that precedes it.

Day One shows in the most simplistic manner that the very basic pattern characterizing our thinking and perception is Dualism
Day Two qualifies Space as next, for anything with the mind appears in a quantity of space
Day Three suggests a subject-object relationship in our awareness interestingly continuing to maintain and widen the two previous qualities
Day Four talks about the relativity of Time explained as an organic part of a vast finite/infinite universe
Day Five explains a meditation technique. Turn this whole cosmology of demons and angels so that the below is behind you and the above is in front of you, and see that this is the past and the potential future.. The past is gone but if you direct energy into memories their "reality" pulls you down as luggage. The future is similarly a projection, the more energy one projects into a mind-fabrication - mixing present experiences and past memories - the more likely it will appear due to this creative quality of the mind. Meditating on this one realizes that there is only a Now. (There is no way to look back. Except one. Even if you turned your head to look behind your back physically speaking you are still looking ahead. But if you turned your eyes instead, looking cross eyed and squinting, and made a 180 degrees turn - with both eyes - after getting used to the dark on the bottom of the eye-socket there is a chance you may get a look through the blind-spot into the sparkling gray-matter of the brain. But this technique certainly belongs to a more advanced yogic school)
Day Six is a wonderful description of Maya which is many many many things, foremost the illusionary appearance of reality in the world of phenomena. Among the many key-words indicating certain qualities here one is that the meditator takes a distanced stance to the phenomenal flow as if elevating above it, ruling, dominating it. Another one is that at this point man has understood these "godly" qualities as his own and using this insight he is able to take a further step into the "beyond" or "god". Coming from this there is a realization that this world is created by you, it's all you
Then, Day Seven, as the observing point in the mind-map is the seventh the other six are the six previous qualities. It's the "being beyond" state of mind, something which in Zen Buddhist practice is the "drop the mind", Enlightenment with other words. The observer leans back realizing the full measure of the fact that there is nobody to blame, it's all up to you to make the effort and become what you really are - god, whatever that/you is.

ARTIST STATEMENT BY PETER SOLYMOSI 2001

The artist is a steamboat, he strives up-streams on the river towards the clean source... and there are some folks on the river-bank hitting the waves with sticks as the boat moves on, they scream to be heard or wish to be on board.

I painted my first painting within the first two weeks after arriving to New York City, a triptyc on the Hundson River. (See image at paintings) The city is surrounded by great light, bright yellows and glows and clear blues, everything shines of true hopefulness. The air is thick of humidity, its smell is feverish, hot. The sky is ready for action. I continued developing my vision and perfected the techniques by practicing, and I let everything inspire me.

I discovered formations in the pattern of the city plan. It's regular, it's rectangular, there are no short cuts. This is a basic pattern for the humans living here, their mind works according to the network of this environment. This beehive-like regularity seemed to be the only available and cultivated pattern in the city since the earliest times of the settelers. The piers on the rivers stick out into the water in the same manner as the buildings stick out into the air. The pilings under the piers are stuck into the riverbanks as the map of Manhattan, block by block, disciplined, organized in rows one after another as teeth of a giant creature. In the air there is inspiring negative space around the glass cubes. This pattern is the Rule


Echoes in cyberspace.

Bablablabla... bla
I paint, do printmaking (etchings) and develop photo series. Also since September 2001 started making small sculptings. I put together visual memories. I've been cultivating a certain intuition for redefining (Euclidean) geometry. I enjoy meditating by the riverfront and my paintings reflect on the rhythm and athmosphere seen there. The river as a symbol represents the flow of mind, its appearances and shapes change every second, therefore there is no such thing as East River in New York City but a drifting with the flow of images anchored in moods of realization. This city is a Beast, i.e. the collective mind of its inhabitants appears as a brute, instinctive creature.



The Roach Series
It's a sad story mut I have to tell you. I had a friend who was killed, his head smashed with a 45 lbs. (20 kg) sledgehammer some seventy times. I was in New York then, sleeping, and having dreams of him being in trouble. Waking up the morning there was a dead roach lying next to me on the floor. It was a messenger, and a very strange insect, so I kept it for anatomic studies. Two weeks later I heared about the death of this man... The very source of the roach image brings up fear. When you first encounter this 4" (10 cm) creature, you meet an alien civilization. There are four main life forms in the city: the rats, the roaches, humans and pigeons. Getting closer to cockroaches you can see that roaches are almost individuals - such as "Richie the Roach" who turned up once every sixth week to check out our kitchen. You can also see that they act upon a collective mind. Their universe - like ours, the humans' - is a hermetic system.



One of the other life forms around us is us, humans. It is said that "the city never sleeps", therefore it is alive even when you are alseep. Eight-eleven million people get up every day and say: "let's do it"! They give up something for their dreams, they let themselves be part of a collective creature, the Beast. The Beast is an instinctive way of being, a kind of super-ego radiating out of organic stuff. A primitive, unconsiuos matter of inertia. Goya depicts something similar in his paintings. Raw giants fight in the clouds while people flee the horrors and winds of war.

This super-ego is New York City. This is what we all dream about. It's not really what I imagine that is, it is what you/we all imagine together. The symbiosis of bugs, people and rodents. There are four groups of people here based on function. 1. The movers, such as delivery personel, waiters, cab-drivers and garbage carriers 2. The buerocrats or the suit people in black and white. They push on buttons and face screens 3. The entertainers, such as people on tv, actors, basketball players, musicians in bars and commercial artists ect. This is Corporate World. Retirement plan. The fourth group is "the outsiders", like tourists from Jersey during the weekend, the homeless under the cardboards and NYU students. I also see "the invisible people" here. The elderly. Or, when you usually take the subway at a certain hour, and you take the same train an hour later and see the people, you have no clue where they come from and where they go to and what they do. And, when a fasion wave moves through the city. You see people wearing the same. Or when you discover a commercial with some message and suddenly realize why people act the way they do.

The Spere Series
So I wanted to give this mind a form, I wanted to enter it, to turn it in and out. I carved into the plate and polished it over and over again and the "bubble" came to me. The viewer enters this ether of jelly, the mind of minds. He is transported through it guided by so called heavenly hangers or threads. Your relation to this is like when you let kites fly and you hold them and steer with care. The force pulling your hand is the sum and effect of physical energies around the kite. When seeing the Sphere imagine yourself being weightles and touch that thread. The heavenly hangers appear first in my "Annunciation at Szalki Sand Quarry" (see image). There they are referring to seismic sound cords - like strings in a music instrument.

Paperstein-Frankenstein Series
Then, I re-created "Paperstein". The pieces of different papers glued together as a larger sheet of matter gave the basis for the prints. I amed to cut through the limits of all preconceptual structures, choosing the force of a frontal collision. In the very moment the paper rolls through the press, under that air-tight pressure something happens. The subjective and objective realities meet on the plate and paper. It's a membrane, a drum. Once being in this superposition of mind, you reach out into different worlds, you determine destinies in blue and red and yellow and green. These prints are true windows on-to and in-to. These are holes in a wall. I can look out of my closed system. In that crucial moment when you change the world you should wish for the better. That's all, but it's not that easy all the time... In that decisive moment you might become aware of it. It just happens. Be aware. The form of things becomes transparent, you look through it as a bug sees through the window glass... but you are never there. The determining fact is your motivation. Try to focus. Be patient. Let them go - and dare to see



Peter Solymosi, Jan 2005, New Delhi


Artist Statement, September 2006



Of the Higher Path

In the morning the Artist woke up from a nightmare (he dreamt he was writing an artist statement) and sitting in the windshield on the high path he realized he woke up with himself sitting on his side, next to the Artist, himself.
“ Which one of us is real, tell me! The one who laughs on this absurd stage-set, or, the one who talks to himself?” and hearty laughter echoed above the valley bouncing amongst the peaks for long.
Here, they continued going higher up on the hills. “I walk next to myself” said the Artist. “Yes, I do.” Accept it and move on, fore
You could be below yourself, carry the dead as being a sunken ship, a wreckage, a junkie, a fallen one who tried and failed, yet not you anymore, broken apart… you are done.
Or be a self-killer? Poisoned himself, jumped the cliff or leaned into the sword, had suicides a thousand times before, again and again for he had enough of the same joke, away! Brake away!
Or, you are above yourself elevated in a rush of insight, the poets fly out that way, some heavily bomb the inner landscape, some are not even heard of they are so far out…. Above there being a spirit, the soul of a Superman; finally out of yourself in ecstasy…
And here I go, in polite and mutual distance to and with myself, orbiting my head.

And as we climb higher holding on to rocks and roots and thin air, the high peaks cast a sight on us and, when I look back… for the past is gone and non-existent while the future is only a memory… I look back and my eyes hurt for I look cross-eyed until I see through the blind spot.
The Artist became weary and the concern was annoyance, with himself. They sat down by both sides of a sparkling stream and looking deep into the eyes of the Artist:
He said, you stay, I can’t go.
“ I can’t go on with you” and without a farewell he shattered the mirror image, pushed himself, that one falling into the abyss as the dogs of the bottom howled of joy for they were indeed waiting for a fresh carcass. "The Artist is dead, long live the Artist!" they shouted and they licked his marrow and chewed on his intestines...

At last the Artist was alone and the silence pleased his heart. “This silence! As reason and result…” he thought.
Then a shepherd called Gaddi appeared on the nearby peak and it took a while ‘til he descended, and met him. They were glad to see each other, the one coming down, the other ascending. Gaddi spoke naught though, the Artist spoke naught, but the air and the sun and the rock and the birds and grass and clouds spoke, they all agreed upon this silence which was brought into light by the high mountains.
Then, Gaddi the shepherd and his two servant dogs moved away for new pastures of the hungry mind. He commanded his ninety-nine: “Go that way!” he spoke thus for sheep are deaf.
Alone again, the Artist shared the silence with the singing air hugging the ground face up and face down.
“ I was Gaddi once, my great-great-grand uncle and now I see him again, and we know what to say and to whom and when.”
“ I am the hundredth one, the one who run the ninety-nine never to return to you, sheep and dogs.”
Behold the self and go your ways while you can, and in distress and fall remember, there is a Higher Path!
“ A roadless road in spaceless space of timeless time”


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