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PETR
KRYŠTŮFEK































TECHNIQUE?
_acrylic paints
_medium
_canvas
_painting knives
..... and thought


TECHNIQUE?
_fine art print
_graphic paper A2
_33 pcs limitation
_embossing



All images
© Petr Kryšůfek
a few stories
to the paintings
below

SURVIVORS
60x60 cm, acrylic on canvas, 2018
In 2015, I experienced unforgettable moments on the island of Lošinj. The town of Nerezine captivated us with its atmosphere and tranquility, how places seem calm when you're at peace. The bay "Bučanje", where we swam naked, felt like a small paradise to us. Near the square, we stumbled upon the culinary alchemy of a man running the restaurant "U Bonaparta". This bespectacled fellow, with a general's elegance, ensured every dinner was consumed down to the last bite. He conducted inspections rigorously and unyieldingly. It might sound humorous, but this became our evening ritual, an order on the languid island where rules often seemed pointless.
One morning, I caught news of a distant maritime tragedy and couldn't resist the thought that the sea sent me a telegram in the sense of "some waves gently lap at your feet, while others drown you." In these waves, castaways are lost like comets into a black hole. Madness and beauty, two worlds that never meet, yet they met within me, intersecting our idyllic illusion of peace on the beach. That evening, I began sketching the initial outlines of the painting "Castaways". Upon returning to Prague, I tried to continue on this theme, but the feelings weren't as potent to see it through.
It was another message, deeply personal this time, that led me to finish the piece three years later. The kind of message that very likely sends you to the "eternal hunting grounds" and thrusts you into a maze of thoughts hard to escape, prompting the urge to finalize many matters. Time began to feel more like a texture rather than a structure, and the theme of castaways took on a new dimension for me. The painting was completed within a week. Just as I was then, it stands on the border, between the outer world and the inner one, containing both madness and tranquility, an attempt to unite what seems un-uniteable. Yet, it holds a piece of both worlds.
In 2015, I experienced unforgettable moments on the island of Lošinj. The town of Nerezine captivated us with its atmosphere and tranquility, how places seem calm when you're at peace. The bay "Bučanje", where we swam naked, felt like a small paradise to us. Near the square, we stumbled upon the culinary alchemy of a man running the restaurant "U Bonaparta". This bespectacled fellow, with a general's elegance, ensured every dinner was consumed down to the last bite. He conducted inspections rigorously and unyieldingly. It might sound humorous, but this became our evening ritual, an order on the languid island where rules often seemed pointless.
One morning, I caught news of a distant maritime tragedy and couldn't resist the thought that the sea sent me a telegram in the sense of "some waves gently lap at your feet, while others drown you." In these waves, castaways are lost like comets into a black hole. Madness and beauty, two worlds that never meet, yet they met within me, intersecting our idyllic illusion of peace on the beach. That evening, I began sketching the initial outlines of the painting "Castaways". Upon returning to Prague, I tried to continue on this theme, but the feelings weren't as potent to see it through.
It was another message, deeply personal this time, that led me to finish the piece three years later. The kind of message that very likely sends you to the "eternal hunting grounds" and thrusts you into a maze of thoughts hard to escape, prompting the urge to finalize many matters. Time began to feel more like a texture rather than a structure, and the theme of castaways took on a new dimension for me. The painting was completed within a week. Just as I was then, it stands on the border, between the outer world and the inner one, containing both madness and tranquility, an attempt to unite what seems un-uniteable. Yet, it holds a piece of both worlds.

SHARING SECRETS
120x180 cm, acrylic on canvas, 2014
On social media, the unbearable duality of existence prevails. In an attempt to become someone else, whom they wish to be, people lose themselves in a maze of simulations.
The painting "Sharing Secrets" is thus a metaphor for the absurd world in which we live: a world that does not understand itself, where people share nonsensical things and dignity dissolves into nothingness. These two, playing with a balloon and their nakedness, believe they have something worth sharing, awaiting applause. I painted an absurd scene, where, in the center of the room, a woman is caught up in the playfulness of her dog, which chases after its balloon with wild abandon. In a dark corner of the room, where his shadow almost blends with the wall, her partner sits and records everything. His eyes are fixed on the small luminous rectangle of the mobile phone he holds in his hands. Even though he is physically there, he remains merely an observer, trapped within his virtual ego.
Yet you do not see the images on the screen, but instead, we construct our own narrative of what might be there. It's a provocation. Whether you simply observe the painting as a whole or imagine what might be on that video – we experience reality through layers of our own interpretation. This dualism between direct perception and imaginative perception raises further questions...
On social media, the unbearable duality of existence prevails. In an attempt to become someone else, whom they wish to be, people lose themselves in a maze of simulations.
The painting "Sharing Secrets" is thus a metaphor for the absurd world in which we live: a world that does not understand itself, where people share nonsensical things and dignity dissolves into nothingness. These two, playing with a balloon and their nakedness, believe they have something worth sharing, awaiting applause. I painted an absurd scene, where, in the center of the room, a woman is caught up in the playfulness of her dog, which chases after its balloon with wild abandon. In a dark corner of the room, where his shadow almost blends with the wall, her partner sits and records everything. His eyes are fixed on the small luminous rectangle of the mobile phone he holds in his hands. Even though he is physically there, he remains merely an observer, trapped within his virtual ego.
Yet you do not see the images on the screen, but instead, we construct our own narrative of what might be there. It's a provocation. Whether you simply observe the painting as a whole or imagine what might be on that video – we experience reality through layers of our own interpretation. This dualism between direct perception and imaginative perception raises further questions...
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