It is rare to experience, and then preserve, that one, special and rare feeling... Montenegrin painter Filip Jankovic, whose exhibition on the occasion of his 90th birthday, opened at the Modern Gallery of Podgorica, tells "Vijesti" that he feels the same way about art as when he first met it. However, expectations and aspirations are greater, but so is freedom.
A master who tirelessly creates, while remaining true to himself, his style and expression, but at the same time open to experiments and research, is presented to the audience through an impressive exhibition on the first floor of the main building of the Museum and Gallery of Podgorica. It seems as if the exhibition is accompanied by music composed on paintings, while the landscapes from the plane trees come to life and appear, and the colors and forms torn from the frame dance poetically, awakening dormant emotions. Thus, the exhibition testifies, but also shows the playfulness of the spirit, the presence of an indescribable feeling, but also the constant search of Filip Janković for that one work of art that will fulfill all desires and shine before the eyes like a treasure deeply hidden in some unknown corner...
Janković, a prominent cultural figure and one of the most important Montenegrin painters, said in an interview with "Vijesti" that he often feels as if he cannot paint what he would like... However, this probably only comes from an inexhaustible and arid need for art and creation...
Janković is spoken of as "the most consistent bearer of intimate expression in Montenegrin contemporary art, a painter of the hedonistic side of nature and life who, in the process of work, connects the real and the abstract into paintings of harmonious symphonies of colors, forms, and light"...
The knowledge of art, the power of creation, the power of freedom, but also facing time, while preserving that unique feeling of admiration and respect for a work of art, with the need for work, movement and striving for even better, greater, more original, with unquestionable love and surrender to the process of creation, characterize the unique, rarely dedicated artist Filip Janković.
The exhibition at the Modern Gallery is open until the end of April and features a large number of works created in the past few years, as well as a series of works from several decades ago on which the artist intervened, and is certainly a testament to the fact that Filip Janković's work belongs to the greatest lyrical achievements in contemporary Montenegrin art.
Filip Janković was born on August 28, 1935 in Gornja Gorica near Podgorica. He enrolled at the Academy of Fine Arts in Belgrade in 1955, where he studied in the class of Ljubica Sokić, Marko Čelebonović, Milo Milunović i Nedjeljko Gvozdenović. He graduated in 1960, and in 1964 completed his third degree at the same Academy. In addition to painting, he was also engaged in pedagogical work. At the Academy of Fine Arts in Paris, he specialized in 1970/71 in the class of the famous professor Sangier. He went on many study trips to Greece, the Netherlands, Germany, France, Italy, Russia, England, the USSR, presented himself many times independently in the country and abroad, and participated in a large number of collective exhibitions. He won a number of awards, including the Thirteenth of July Award, the “Liberation of Titograd” Award, the Order of Labor with a Golden Wreath of the Presidency of the SFRY, as well as the “Petar Lubarda” Award, ULUCG, the first prize for painting of the University Board - Belgrade...
Filip Janković shared his impressions from the exhibition, visions of art, motives, spirit, reflection on his own work, aspirations, but also memories in an interview with "Vijesti".
It has been almost a decade since your last exhibition at the Modern Gallery in Podgorica. It is obvious that the audience welcomed this opportunity with great pleasure, as evidenced by the number of visitors, both at the opening and afterwards. What are your impressions of the opening and how do you experience the exhibition when viewing it in the gallery space?
There have been exhibitions where I have had record attendance, but this opening still broke all records in terms of attendance. It is especially meaningful to me that many of my friends were there, I spoke to many people. One friend from Belgrade came by car just for the exhibition, which I did not expect, but which made me happy.
I have said before that an exhibition only begins to live when someone looks at it, and if that someone experiences something by looking at it. Without that, the exhibition, like every other thing, is dead. It, to be honest, does not exist. This exhibition, now, exists for me. I am surrounded by my paintings and I always want to be the one not only looking at them, but also to see how others see these paintings. So, if I don't have anyone else, I usually ask my wife: "How does this look to you?" She knows that I don't like her to praise it every time, but that I like to hear her real impression. Sometimes she says: "Extraordinary, this is your best so far" for one painting, and "That's terrible, I don't know what happened to you" for another. (laughs) I love such comments and honest, real impressions.
I'm sure that at the opening of the exhibition there were quite a few people who had their own experience, a real feeling and impression that they gained... I've already heard, and I'll probably hear even more, how others see it all, because I'm certainly not the only one who can recognize something in my paintings. Maybe I see something in them that others won't notice, and maybe someone will see in them what I can't reach... Sometimes I'm surprised at how good interpretations of my paintings are given by people who have never seen them before or who don't know my paintings...
I am particularly impressed by the atmosphere in your paintings, as well as the combination of landscapes with architectural buildings.
I have always loved landscapes. That's probably why I often painted the Old Town, Ribnica in the beginning... I like the scene to be somewhere near the water. I love rivers, I love Morača and Ribnica, I love lakes, and especially the sea. In the Netherlands, I love canals, in Amsterdam, Rotterdam, The Hague... Water, in short, attracts me, enchants me... In it I find some quiet or for me some surprising changes in light, color... For example, the sea... It suddenly becomes some other color if the sky is just a little different. When it is calm, turbulent, when the surroundings are one and when they are another, its colors are always different. Water is always alive, especially when it is a river, like the Morača, which flows in waves.
And the color scheme is in that spirit.
Probably because of the water, blue dominates for me. There is also red, because blue itself cannot survive without red, and red and blue cannot survive without white... There is still a lot I need to do. It just needs to be done.
What is the process or act of creating art like?
I can hardly put into words how I paint something or how I paint in general. Sometimes I have to do it. Sometimes I say that about many things when people ask me if I can, I say I can, if I have to. And if I don't have to, maybe I can't. That's how I have to paint. But I always turn on and listen to music while I paint.
How do you feel while painting?
Something I haven't said before is that I often feel like I can't paint what I want to paint. And that's hard for me, but... There's no other way. So, I start, and I'll push as hard as I can. Now that's what I do and I do what I can and as much as I can. What I can't do, won't be today, but maybe it will be tomorrow, next year, God willing, it will be for another year or two. Sometimes I paint a picture surprisingly quickly, surprisingly for me.
I painted portraits the fastest, which are considered difficult to paint, as my colleagues and others know. They sometimes tell me that I can't paint a portrait in half an hour, but I can, when I have to. I once saw a French woman in Paris. It was the kind of portrait I could only wish to paint. I immediately approached her and asked her to pose for me so I could paint her portrait. She was surprised, said it was so sudden, that she didn't know how to pose, and then she said she didn't have time... I asked her how much time she had, and she said half an hour at most. I just told her to sit down right away, and I started working right away, and so I painted an excellent portrait in half an hour. I painted another portrait just as quickly, maybe even in less than half an hour. Nives Kavuric Kurtovic, one of the best painters in Croatia, was in my studio when she saw the kind of portraits I was making. She asked me if I could paint his portrait the next time he came from Zagreb with his son. I told her why would she do that when he could just sit down, so I would paint his portrait right away. She said in surprise that they were leaving for the sea in half an hour. Okay, that's all I said and added that in that case I would paint his portrait in half an hour. That's how it was. When I later saw that portrait in Zagreb, I realized that it was just like a watercolor that is painted from the breath, all at once, which no one would have said was possible in the case of a portrait. Normally, it would take me a week, two days, sometimes a year or two to paint a portrait, because portraits are really difficult and demanding, but when I feel that I have to, some energy, some will and faith appear.
Your self-portrait is also shown at the exhibition. How difficult is a self-portrait, not only in an artistic context, but also in the way of confronting and presenting yourself as a subject, an object...?
When I didn't have a model, I painted myself, self-portraits. I didn't do it because I liked painting myself, but because I didn't have another model, so I paint myself in the mirror. There's another reason, and that's that I'm free towards myself - I can be critical, I can paint myself of course, I can be 20 years older or paint myself in a way that I would never want to be or what I would wish I were, and there's never a problem. On the other hand, if I paint someone else, a beauty, for example, or a young man, and it's not beautiful, that person gets offended. I can't offend myself...
You say that people can get offended if something isn't beautiful, if it's not how they would like it to be... In your opinion, should art be beautiful, aesthetically appealing, or should it sometimes offer something else besides that beauty?
Beautiful... Beauty... That's a term I don't like to use. What is beautiful? Beautiful is what is most difficult, often. The most beautiful is usually what is most difficult, and what is most difficult is what gives us trouble. It's not beautiful, then, it's not pleasant either, but there is no beauty without its opposite. Sometimes I have a beautiful picture that is too beautiful for me, and all I want to do is destroy it. So sometimes I cross it all out, paint over it, make a lot of movements left and right and cross it with some lines and who knows what... Then I go get a coffee, come back and then I can start again. That picture is no longer so beautiful and so terrible, at the same time.
The exhibition also shows some works that were created earlier, there are the latest ones, but also some old ones with new interventions... Abstraction is also present... What, if I may say so, "turned" you to abstraction, or what inspired and encouraged you to direct your expression in that way?
Life. Life is always what somehow directs a person. I am now aware that I don't have as much time as I should and then I am forced to somehow try to create something that was not possible until recently. Now it is a little easier for me, because I am aware of a lot of what I need to do. When I see a painting, I now know exactly what I need to do. Before, I was sometimes timid, sometimes even too much, and I thought that if I did something, I could lose the painting, ruin it... And now, that is no longer the case. Now I go to the painting without any thought.
I created an impression - I need this and that, then I, so to speak, cut it out and that changes the picture. Then the picture suddenly appears as if I had made a new one. Then I think of a move, something I'm going to do, and I do it, but the picture doesn't turn out the way I thought it would - then I start over again. And so, my work is now less hesitant. Now I'm braver, because I know that I don't have time to hesitate, to think things over, to change my mind, but I go straight ahead.
Is it at the same time a field of uncompromising freedom?
I am freer now, in any case, much freer than ever. Now I am not afraid of anything. Now I am also much braver. I am not afraid of destroying anything. People are surprised when I say that you need energy, strength, courage, wisdom to paint a picture, but you do. It takes a lot for one picture. I usually create small pictures on canvases of about half a meter, but I put into them everything that I could fit on a large canvas of two or three meters, but for a small picture I concentrate especially, sit down and be with it day and night. I often succeed more in a smaller format than when it comes to large pictures. To put it briefly, such a picture is my icon, while I think that in a large picture there is a bit of acting. Sometimes not a little, but a lot. In order to paint a large picture, I need to exhibit it and then expect recognition. This is usually how it goes - with large paintings, greater recognition is expected, so you have to think in advance how to make it, expectations grow, and then you have to be careful not to get overwhelmed, so that there is no mistake that is immediately noticed as a problem... When it comes to a smaller painting, I don't have to think, I can let the image itself guide me, like a feeling. With smaller pictures, mistakes are harder to spot, but the freedom is greater. However, I like to devote time to the picture, to make everything as I can and as I feel, which is why I am better concentrated when working on a smaller than on a large canvas.
However, the smaller format is quite demanding.
I much prefer a small painting, although perhaps it is more difficult to see as such... If I were to choose the paintings that I had to rescue from the studio, on some occasion, I would pick up as many small paintings as possible.
Considering your long career and entire oeuvre, is there any painting or a particular cycle that is special to you, either because of what it depicts, the circumstances in which it was created, the story behind it, or something similar?
I once talked to my colleagues about this topic. One of them said to me: "Give me one picture, brother. You have so many pictures, set one aside for me". I told him that I couldn't set any aside and that I didn't know which one I could give him, so I couldn't give any. He was surprised how it was possible when I had so many. I simply said that, and I asked him back, "How many children do you have?" Three, he replied... "Well, would you give me one, because I don't have any?", I asked him then. He told me that it wasn't the same, but for me it was. That's the answer, in part...
What were your beginnings like? Was there a turning point or a feeling when the artist in you awakened?
The first paintings I saw in my life were paintings by professionals, real artists. When I was about 13 years old, I was in Cavtat and saw the works of Vlaho Bukovac. When I saw it, I was so surprised and lost at the same time. I imagined and wished that I could create something like that someday. I had a magnificent feeling that I would probably still have today.
Besides, ever since I can remember, I've known about that feeling... I had a feeling for the world, for flowers, for birds, fish, grass, water... It's the same feeling I have today. But back then, a long time ago, I had a harder time painting it. That's why I waited. I waited, believing that one day I might be able to do something. That feeling remains... I haven't changed my feelings for people, or for the world around me, but I have the understanding that maybe there's something new and different there. Understanding also sometimes influences feelings, it's hard to separate that.
I believe that the hardest thing in life is to hold on to a feeling. To hold on to or even be aware of that feeling...
That's right. I remember some painters or historians who said exactly that. And the point is, they say, that every artist is a little bit of a child, and every child is a little bit of an artist. I think that's where there's something childish, artistic, something common, something that's never lost. Those are my first paintings that I remember from 80 years ago, but also from 50-60 years ago, they're just as first...
You're constantly working and creating. I guess it's a necessity?
That's right, I work all the time. I used to be able to walk around Europe, travel a bit, go somewhere, go swimming, go for a walk... Now I don't have time for that anymore, now I only have time for painting, and that's a little bit.
But have you experienced much?
Yes, I've walked around Europe. I've been everywhere, I've visited various places... But I haven't gone to Spain, I haven't seen Kathmandu, I haven't been to Japan... There's a lot left unseen, but I want to, but now I'm lucky enough to see it all, even on my phone. I can find a lot of things on my phone, and that makes me happy.
Are you continuing to work, to paint?
Always. You know, it's hard when I set out to do something, and then when I think I won't be able to do it, because I know what awaits me. And I have a lot, a lot of things awaiting me. And then sometimes I think it's better to go for a coffee, to sit under an olive tree, to rest a bit... But no. I have to finish what I set out to do, and then there will be time for coffee. It's not a must as people imagine it, no one has ever forced me or made me paint, but I have to. I have to. They sometimes tell me: "What do you have to do now? Let it go, you have time", but I don't have time, the only time I have is now.
Bonus video:
