Arcadia in Decay – English

Arcadia in Decay – English

Ruins are among the most typical and fascinating landscape elements of the Romantic Period of the 19th century. As the remains of past civilizations in natural surroundings that remind us of nature’s dominating role, ruins entice the observer and take them back to a time that was perhaps better. This emotional and subjective aspect can be found in the landscapes of Moni K. Huber, which show us abandoned and neglected architecture in nature.

Huber began working on her paintings after a trip to the Adriatic coast of Croatia in the spring of 2014. The artist visited vacated tourism complexes, which had been built by the Yugoslavian government since the 1960s – a time in which tourism in Europe had become a mass phenomenon. Many of these buildings were built by some of the most well-known architects of the period and even the design of the interiors was the work of famous specialists. Thus, this architecture became a showcase for the qualities of the “open socialism” with which Yugoslavia chose to present itself to the world in that era.

Huber approaches the buildings and facilities that arouse her interest via photo documentation and research, in the same manner used in her other series. Among the buildings that have been abandoned for a number of years now are the Motel Panorama, formerly the Motel Slieme, in Preluk/Rijeka and the Haludovo hotel complex in Malinska on the island of Krk. What made Haludovo unique was an investment made by the American publisher of Penthouse Magazine, Bob Guccione. With the consent of the Yugoslavian state, Guccione invested millions in one of the casinos of the resort. This was known to the public and added a touch of “glamour” to the hotel. Today, all of these complexes are settings for decay. The formerly opulent buildings are now empty; desolate swimming pools, rubble and broken glass lie in the middle of the sprawling vegetation. The only things left of the large entrance halls are basic structures and collapsed walls covered with graffiti.

A large part of the local public will recognize a part of their collective and certainly of their private history in the buildings Huber chose for her pieces. These landscapes may strike a nostalgic chord in some, and the feelings they evoke could be similar to those triggered by a romantic painting when viewed by the public of that period.

The theme of Moni K. Huber’s work could be considered traditional landscape painting. Yet, she “constructs” her landscape in a playful process that comprises an initial de-contextualization and re-organization of the images. This is a far cry from the spontaneous inspiration often attributed to romantic artists.

The pictures are part of the artist’s archive, which includes photos, sketches, notes and sample watercolour images of the sites. This documentation – a large part of which is displayed at her studio and spread out on tables – goes through a selection process, as images are manipulated; the photos are enlarged and printed on handmade paper. Silhouettes are cut out, colours are applied and some cutouts are then laminated onto canvas.

A photographic image is created that reproduces the green, shining leaves of a tree, or watercolour blue stands for a patch of sky or a printed, cropped photo can imitate the rough surface of a cement wall. Every printed cutout, every drop of watercolour paint applied to the canvas, every cut is a fragment of the whole and is itself whole: an image within a large image.

The viewer can embark on a type of tracking shot through the picture and move from one fragment to the next, seemingly in slow motion. Fragments can be viewed as independent images while the rest is blurred in the background before wandering to a new segment of the picture. The artist is aware of the paths our eyes follow and how photographic details bring our perception to a halt. At the same time, she subtly neglects details, blurs contours and colour fields before leaving thick drops, epoxy and clumps of oil paint on the canvas.

The unclear silhouettes, the forced blurriness and the distinctive colour drops create a subjective effect full of yearning, the same way fog conceals ruins in the romantic landscape paintings of the 19th century. As the viewers, we imagine what cannot be seen beyond these blurry forms.

Translated from Catalan by Heinrich Blechner

Cataloge: “Arcade in Decay”