DRAGIN Radivoj
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DRAGIN Radivoj
Painter
Born in 1957 in Kikinda.
Graduated from the Faculty of Visual Arts in Belgrade (Painting), Class of Prof. Stojan Ćelić, in 1981, and in 1983 he won a master's degree.
Member of ULUV since 1983.
One-man exhibitions: Belgrade (2), Novi Sad (3), Apatin, Starčevo.
Awards: ULUV award at the 45th SULUV exhibition, Novi Sad (1996) and the Award of the 29th Novi Sad Salon, Novi Sad (2000).
Bač Fortress Street, oil on canvas, 68x90, 2001
Born in 1957 in Kikinda.
Graduated from the Faculty of Visual Arts in Belgrade (Painting), Class of Prof. Stojan Ćelić, in 1981, and in 1983 he won a master's degree.
Member of ULUV since 1983.
One-man exhibitions: Belgrade (2), Novi Sad (3), Apatin, Starčevo.
Awards: ULUV award at the 45th SULUV exhibition, Novi Sad (1996) and the Award of the 29th Novi Sad Salon, Novi Sad (2000).
Bač Fortress Street, oil on canvas, 68x90, 2001
| Big clay seal. Shield of baked clay. Place for a temple. Abandoned city. The fair site without a windmill, mulberry tree here and there. Construction site without scaffolds. Overturned army trunks. Gourabiyehs, cubes, barges and trays arranged for play. A ship lifted onto a rock. A strange monastery. A dam, an embankment. A home for a mole. Space for elephants, an island labyrinth. An island in the Danube. Unknown town, my Lord. It is hard, dry clay in my movements. A star growing into the ground. A coat for a centipede. Toothed brains, a rebus in my head. Born in the background, built of mud, mud, cane and sand of the Tisa. Brought from the Old Plot. Stable and chaff barn. The furrier yard and the leather tanning tub. Wooden horse and a small basket. It's an out-of-the-way place above the big river. A ship in a dugout. A sheltered fig-tree. A lumber, a mulberry tree, a squirrel. Dandelion. fodder for a donkey. I brought here some old junk and linen. A trowel from the prison, a plumb line and a ruler. The Banat rug. This is the Owl Valley. We are playing hide-and-seek. We are playing with marbles, playing leapfrog. Here, in the ox pastures, adopted for walking on stilts. I am a broken reed in this hard place. Tin in the dark. I am looking for a smile. I am learning how to sing. I am a slowly crumbling rock. A carpenter, a grafter, a calligrapher writing on the laths of the blind frame, on the margins of the ship log. I draw with a brick piece and a black willow twig. With a wooden arm I draw. A drawing with bones of elder flute and dry twigs from the beach. A thread in the eye. Rain in the cloud. Wild geese and broken glass in clouds. Stained glass in the weaved cloth, in the weaving stitch. Birds in the hills made of blue wrapping paper. The sky very near, the eye on the river. On the water surface, silver and mother-of-pearl, from which the lime cannot remove their shine, cannot remove myself, Radivoj Dragin either... |
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