Graphic inferno of Davor Vrankic, The

Graphis, Nov/Dec 2001 by Danchin, Laurent

This then would be the philosophic value of the generalized piercing in Vrankic's work, a process meant to be tied in with all the accessories of the perforatio universalis summarizing Vrankic's inspiration. In a previous series, closer to a comic strip, he conjured up monstrous scenes of debauchery where-against a background of towers of Babel-outsized buildings, men, women and androgynous bird-headed figures locked into all sorts of embraces, performing a sort of boundless, erotic cannibalism. Illustrating what could be termed "The Enigma of the Nail," his most recent series presents something of a Eucharist in reverse: a ritualistic sharing of cruelty where all former sexual aggressivity has been reduced to the mechanical idea of penetration, a manic rite pursued by humanity in its idiotic obsession with its stingy exploration of Evil in its most varied forms.

Vrankic's world is a world of men, mostly past their prime. The women who do appear are young and beautiful, usually centered and bearing a halo of light. Of a fragile or protective nature, they sometimes bestow a blessing as they stand flooded by music hall spotlights that turn the stage into a "meeting" scene. Or else, naked and grotesque, they are shown being crucified against a rowdy fairground atmosphere. It would take pages to describe the images, to enumerate all the artistic devices the virtuoso uses to such brilliant effect: bold centering, high angle and counter-angle shots, distorted wide angle and perspective effects, and even photographic out of focus, Vrankic's latest invention, the best to underscore the foregrounds.

In the shadowy light of his studio, located along the railway tracks of an abandoned industrial zone at Nanterre-la-Folie outside of Paris, the artist divides his work process into two phases. The subject matter is not a problem, it is something that "already exists" rather than "a product of my imagination," he states. It is only thereupon that the artist applies himself consciously and deliberately to the quick composition, then to how the image is treated and finalized, attaining a degree of realism not far from trompe-l'oeil. And now comes the actual execution of the work, the stage where the artist gives free rein to his imagination to improvise details meant to bring out the image, much as a print is made to appear after being dipped in a developing bath. This part of the creation is endless; it can take from two to three months of trance-like or almost hallucinatory activity.

Interestingly, Vrankic's large-scale formats (at times 1.50 x 2m long) are rarely used by draftsmen. Such dimensions require the artist to become totally immersed in his work, to adopt the posture of a painter, like the revived artist standing before his canvas. Vrankic in fact considers these works to be paintings but, as he explains, he has always wanted "to set opposite each other elements that are slightly contradictory, such as a very meticulous technique of the sort generally applied to small formats. Another contradiction derives from their seeming so hyperrealistic, although everything is totally made up." Opposition between format and technique then, and realism and imagination. Added to the artist's permanent use of anachronisms, are three contrasting pairs that could define Vrankic's art. Together with-ensuing from the third-the added contrast between the Holy and the profane.