Survivors in a cruel world

At the entrance to the exhibition of new works by Josef Bolf, the first and only painting hanging on the wall is titled Self-Immolation. It shows a woman's armless body lying face down on the floor, her gender identified by the shoes and exposure of her legs. The visible part of the head is a swirl of white - unidentifiable and thus universal. The woman is lying in what seems to be a living room with a fireplace, possibly even dragging herself toward it and into it, seeking the solace of the fire.

In Bolf's world, it's an appropriate opening scene for a show titled "Personal Disposition."

Born in Prague in 1971, Bolf has been considered a rising star on the Czech art scene for the past several years, partly because his works represent a new outlook on post-communist Czech society. The artist is heavily influenced by the aesthetics of punk, black metal, noise and the indie music scene in general. Battered, zombie-like children and suicidal young adults are the main protagonists in his disturbingly cruel world, painted mostly in black and brilliant pink.

At this point, however, Bolf is no longer a rising star. He is ubiquitous, seen in many important group shows and exhibited by the most prestigious galleries in the country, including the Rudolfinum and Prague City Gallery. He also has a growing profile abroad, at galleries like the Ana Cristea Gallery in New York City and the Hudson Valley Center for Contemporary Art in upstate New York. He is perhaps the hardest-working young artist in Prague, the James Brown or Iggy Pop of contemporary Czech art.

Yet Bolf also shows his work at small, DIY art spaces that barely qualify as galleries. He is still considered a part of the street and underground art scenes, because, despite his success, he does not aim to please. This is evident in his newest series of paintings, done in dim hues, looking battered and beaten, seemingly weathered, some to the point of deterioration.

By classic aesthetic standards, some of the paintings might be considered ugly. But life can be that way, too.

There are a total of 10 paintings in this show, including Self-Immolation. Bolf says the series was inspired by old photographs he came across while going through family albums. It recalls and re-envisions his life growing up in communist-built panelák housing blocks.

In Fence, a woman rushes by a panelák apartment block with a gray-pink sky overhead. The building is a lifeless box with its windows blackened out and covered with white spots.

In White Shirt, a young man and woman stand near each other, wearing white shirts stained with black grease. Drips in the painting make the humans appear to be corroding. Other smears and drips of black envelop the not-so-happy-looking couple and their environs.

Sitting on the Balcony is visually the lightest work, with a block of yellow in the left-hand corner. It depicts a young girl reclining in a chair, her face smeared by her hair, which is frazzled like curls of seaweed. Her nose, mouth and eyes are delicate smudges.

At the Corner is the most abstract work, a convulsing landscape executed in a dire industrial aesthetic.

One of the most arresting pieces in the show, and also the largest, is Hospital. It shows two youths in a covered outdoor walkway, the girl deep in the background with a bicycle. Black vines wrap around the beams of the walkway, and barely noticeable (black-on-black) calligraphy, or marks resembling Japanese or Chinese writing, are on a wall to the right.

Looking at Reservoir, a viewer might question whether all of these paintings were really based on actual photographs. This one shows a boy sitting with a bloody patch over his right eye and a bloody bandage around his wrist. His arms are crossed; he looks abandoned. He is framed in an ambiguous tight space, with some heavy-looking metal contraption beside him that is overturned and leaking a red substance.

This is a recurring image in Bolf's works, emerging either from his memory or his imagination. Reservoir also best represents his view of life: a bloody (young) survivor, left alone in a cold and emotionless world. Life can be ugly and merciless, and distressed children seem to feel this most of all.

There is an accompanying soundtrack of recorded noises playing on an old cassette machine. The sounds are annoying and repetitive - squeaky doors opening and closing, and various scratches, taps and buzzes, all playing at a loud volume. These sounds represent the noises filling the lives in the paintings. Furniture is dragged across the floor. Dirty water drips or is spilled. Things are torn.

Perhaps the soundtrack also picks up the noises of Bolf mixing his paints and then assaulting the characters in his canvases with his fists. It would be an appropriate addition of sound art to this exhibition.

Tony Ozuna can be reached at
features@praguepost.com