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| Period | Contemporary (1945-today) |
|---|
“This Is How the City Melts in Autumn”
Acrylic & mixed media on canvas, 80 x 60 cm
Series: Beyond the Within
Artist: Ovidiu Kloska
This work is a poetic radiograph of disintegration. A city that no longer belongs to geography, but to memory. An inner architecture slowly detaching itself from reality, melting into a twilight of lucid reverie. The city doesn’t vanish — it becomes something else: a vapor with veins, a liquid presence, a whispering light layered like forgotten thoughts in an unfinished journal.
“This Is How the City Melts in Autumn” is a mental scenography — a mindscape composed of fragments from vanished worlds, invisible yet deeply felt. Here, light is not just a pictorial element, but an active character: able to alter matter, to turn contours into tremors, to rewrite immediate reality with a golden, melancholic, sometimes almost hallucinatory touch.
The artist’s predilection for forgotten graphisms — subconscious inscriptions, remnants of lost script, fragments of an emotional alphabet — comes to life in this piece as an unstable cartography of memory. Dispersed symbols, unfinished geometries, traces of a personal archive breathe beneath the fine layers of color and transparency.
The work feeds on a romantic memory, a nostalgia that does not mourn the past but distills it into atmosphere, into vibration. The city becomes a melted being, a semi-organic entity dissolving between what is and what might have been. A suspended reverie. A threshold between the concrete and the imagined.
“This Is How the City Melts in Autumn” does not illustrate — it evokes. It does not describe — it feels. It opens a window into a place where reality has already become memory, and memory — painted with light — becomes place.
If you observe closely, you’ll discover the ritual-like delicacy with which visual layers are simultaneously constructed and deconstructed — as if the painting breathes, vibrating between two worlds. Fragile, almost evaporated structures recombine and unravel an interior space that no longer exists in reality, yet persists with nearly painful intensity in memory.
Each stain, each fiber, each detail is imbued with the aching emotion of what once was and is no longer — yet still lives within us, quietly. It is not a visual memory in the illustrative sense, but pure experience, condensed into matter, into light, into vibration.
In essence, this painting becomes a relic of love for a place once full of life. A living city, a space inhabited by gestures, people, and bygone moments. Now, that place is no longer visible, yet it is more present than ever — preserved here, in this image, as a form of eternity.
Because yes — we are all worn down by the passing of time. We all carry within us the splendid ruins of emotional epochs. And that is why this work is more than a painting: it is a tender, living tribute to that “something” which still breathes in us, long after it disappeared from the world outside.
