Contemporary Croatian Art – Fran Mlinar
In the words of one writer, “As a student, Mlinar became one of the youngest members of the Croatian Association of Graphic Artists. He studies at the Arts University of Sarajevo and at the Faculty of Arts and History of Art in Split, earning his Masters in 1984. From 1984 to 1988, he worked as a graphic designer, focusing on commercial art and technical illustration. Since joining the Croatian hyper-realism movement in 1988, Mlinar has succeeded in becoming on the leading masters of the movement. Critically acclaimed throughout Croatia, Europe and the United States,”
Below – “Evening Mist”; “Summer Portrait”; “Winter Afternoon”; “Early Morning Light”; “Blue Remains”; “Tranquil Harbor.”
Some quotes from the work of Charles Frazier:
“Claim your space. Draw a circle of light around it. Push back against the dark. Don’t just survive. Celebrate.”
“For you can grieve your heart out and in the end you are still where you were. All your grief hasn’t changed a thing. What you have lost will not be returned to you; it always be lost. You’re left with only your scars to mark the void. All you can choose to do is go on, or not. But if you go on, it’s knowing you carry your scars with you.”
“Ask her what she craved, and she’d get a little frantic about things like books, the woods, music. Plants and the seasons. Also freedom. Not being bought and sold by some idiot employer, not having the moments of her days valued in fractions of a dollar by somebody other than herself.”
“She always carried a book, though, in case she needed to read a few pages to avoid unwanted conversation.”
“She wondered if literature might lose some of its interest when she reached an age or state of mind where her life was set on such a sure course that the things she read might stop seeming so powerfully like alternate directions for her being.”
“Survive long enough and you get to a far point in life where nothing else of particular interest is going to happen. After that, if you don’t watch out, you can spend all your time tallying your losses and gains in endless narrative. All you love has fled or been taken away. Everything fallen from you except the possibility of jolting and unforewarned memory springing out of the dark, rushing over you with the velocity of heartbreak. May walking down the hall humming an old song—‘The Girl I Left Behind Me’—or the mere fragrance of clove in spiced tea can set you weeping and howling when all you’ve been for weeks on end is numb.”
“That’s not a thing any of us are granted. To go back. Wipe away what later doesn’t suit us and make it the way we wish it. You just go on”
Below – “Portrait of Edgar Allan Poe”; “Une Saison en Enfer”; “X”; “Portrait of Charles Baudelaire”; “Tunnel Under the English Channel”; “Homage to Modi[gliani].”
A November Poem
“My November Guest”
by Robert Frost
My Sorrow, when she’s here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She’s glad the birds are gone away,
She’s glad her simple worsted grey
Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.