Varga Valentin: On the paintings of László Retek
"I see myself. I do not see myself. I move. I do not move. I look at the picture. The picture looks at me. I move, It moves too. The reflection is not real. Perhaps neither am I."
The mirrored surface carries a mystery. Yet, in the mirror, we only see the image of reality, the reality that is here around us, visible, tangible, and even felt. Why, then, do we continue to marvel at this secondary experience, the reflected image of reality? Perhaps because, in such moments, something of the truth emerges. A recognition, like a shock, realizing that even tangible reality is just an illusion, a passing phenomenon, the reflection of something that relates to our consensual reality as the reflection relates to the mirror image. One dimension less.
The creator, carefully and deliberately, uses the worked metal as a compositional element, but at the same time, opens wormholes in the surface of the image, through which the viewer is confronted with their own role.
But the paintings of László Retek are not just mirrors in this sense. They are mirrors of the modern creative human being, who, in the labyrinth of existence, tries to map out and rephrase the fabric of reality, confronting the elements of classical panel painting with industrial waste, mixing them with 20th-century constructivist and informal painting, and automatic writing with the materials of today.
The calligraphic elements and gestures, sometimes layered upon one another, that appear in the paintings, can be seen as a form of palimpsest, a continuous rewriting, not meant to capture rational content, but rather the traces of the creator’s, the individual's, externalized inner vibrations. The automatic writing also refers to something else, namely that the creative process is directed inward. It is a continuous self-reflection, a relentless search and progress toward understanding both ourselves and the world. The artist creates for himself and about himself. At the same time, however, the work is still communication—it must also work outward—but when it leaves the creator's hands, it can only be considered partially complete. Retek counts on the audience, assumes it, because his works only come to life fully in the process of interaction, through the participation of the viewer; the work can only be completed by the viewer.
The analysis could be extended for a long time, comparing these works with others and with different eras, finding the balance and tension within them, discovering the color, the dynamics, and expressive power. But instead, let us stand and move before the paintings of László Retek. Let us silently observe the play of surfaces and realize that, all along, we have been looking into ourselves!
Valentin Varga