Painter of Real and Metaphysical Landscapes

Like some medieval magician in his alchemical workshop, Aldemar mixes colours and ideas, the whole universe. From that workshop emerge landscapes and regions, people and cities, crossroads and memories, and roads, all bearing the aura which this master of colours and lines bestows upon everything—an aura created in and radiating from the human figure, the landscape, and the city itself. Thus are born cities, houses, rooftops, and people, upon whom he confers his own light, which, in each of his paintings, radiates from primordial depths, from the collective unconscious, from the archetypal. The motifs in these paintings are a kind of anti-motif—something existing on the other side, which he translates into our reality, surrounded by an aura, a light, a magic, and energy known only to him, and emanating from each of his paintings—an irresistible impulse for the viewer, with an associative power that multiplies endlessly. I wrote these words on the occasion of Ibrahimović’s exhibition in Herceg Novi at the “Josip Bepo Benković” Gallery in November 2017. His recent exhibition in France is the occasion for this conversation, and a reason to introduce him to the readers of ART.

Miraš Martinović: You have recently held an exhibition in France, which is also the occasion for us to put a few questions to you for ART, the supplement of the daily newspaper Vijesti. First of all, I would like you to share your impressions of the exhibition, of the city in which it opened, and of your encounter with the audience…

Ibrahimović: Let me first say something about the city of Nîmes itself, where I had already held a solo exhibition three years ago. The city is known for its Roman arena dating from the first century AD, as well as for the famous aqueduct Pont du Gard, which is in its immediate vicinity. In a city of approximately one hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, there are dozens of galleries. At the invitation of my old friend Jacques Rouquet, I held an exhibition at the Galerie Atelier du 11. The exhibition was installed on Monday, 18 June, and the formal opening did not take place until the fifth day, 22 June 2018. That “fifth day” principle was a novelty to me, although I had already held four solo exhibitions in France. The gallery, of course, remained open throughout those days. The organiser took great care to introduce me to well-known visual artists from that part of France; I visited their studios and had the opportunity to exchange opinions and insights from our field. José Pires, a painter from Nîmes with an international reputation, an artist who works in what I can freely say is the finest studio I have ever seen, made a particularly strong impression on me. The opening itself proceeded customarily, with a very good attendance, which, naturally, made me very happy…

Miraš Martinović: Your paintings possess a special magic, style, and individuality. Although it is most difficult for a painter to interpret his own work, it is still possible for an artist to articulate his own poetics—that thread which separates and distinguishes each artist, setting him apart from all others…

Ibrahimović: The essence of modern visual expression lies in the subjective rendering of objective reality—and I adhere to this, naturally, both consciously and subconsciously. I transpose natural structures and textures into a visual form that speaks of me, of the region, and the land I come from. All of this I accomplish, of course, through urban details and human silhouettes which, I believe, lend a certain dynamism and dimension to the very composition of the painting… In essence, it is the fragmentation of my lived reality, rendered through line, colour, and structure… upon a flat surface.

Miraš Martinović: You clearly have a universe of your own—a privilege enjoyed by very few. What constitutes that universe of yours, and how do you feel it in your paintings and within yourself?

Ibrahimović: I believe that precisely these urban landscapes and environments are the product of certain nostalgic “weaknesses” of mine—the very core of my work. There is also a response to our, unfortunately, urban destruction, particularly of old heritage, which we have mercilessly demolished or continue to demolish. These are all my reflections or “currents streaming through my mind.” which I merely attempt to transfer onto the canvas and weave into a whole.

Miraš Martinović: You have travelled with your paintings through the countries and cities of the region. A few years ago, you held an exhibition in Zagreb, where nearly half of the works on display were sold… Do you find it difficult to part with your paintings? Do you think of them afterwards— do you wonder where they are now?

Ibrahimović: Yes, indeed, six years ago, I held an exhibition at the Zvonimir Gallery, organised by our Community in Zagreb. It remains one of the best-organised solo exhibitions I have ever had (out of fortyeight in total). The sales were excellent, and that is, of course, one of the finest moments an artist can experience. It must mean a great deal when someone wants your painting in particular, when someone values it and, I presume, when it brings them joy. But no parting is easy. Yet the thought that the paintings will be kept somewhere out there, and that they will outlive even me, their own author—that makes one happy…

Miraš Martinović: Your studio is in your native town of Rožaje. I have had the opportunity to visit that space, that workshop where the alchemy of colours takes place, where worlds come into being. How do you paint—is it a daily practice, or do you work periodically? How many paintings do you complete in a year?

Ibrahimović: I generally try to work every day—or rather, to spend time in the studio. Sometimes, besides painting, I occupy myself with preparing and framing works, or with arranging the studio itself and the like—but I strive to spend as much time as possible there, inside, in that very space. Lately, I have been working in the morning hours, as daylight suits me best. And there is, of course, the radio, which I listen to regularly. Sounds, human voices, music, and the information I hear—all of these matter to me, so the good old radio completes the atmosphere and, in a sense, “assists” me while I work or paint.

Miraš Martinović: In your paintings, the landscapes of Rožaje and the town itself radiate a distinctive aura that you create through colour. There is the architecture of the town and the architecture of the landscape, and then there are the people you presumably encounter and later incorporate into your paintings—where they continue to live, without even knowing it?

Ibrahimović: That does happen. Some “wrong” brushstroke or colour, some “blot”, or some coat of paint during the underpainting, will sometimes evoke the face or the entire figure of someone I know or once knew, and I merely accentuate that recognisability or character trait. Others will sometimes recognise it too, while at other times it means something only to me. But that does not alter anything—what matters is that it fits and contributes to the painting’s overall meaning. All of this arises almost spontaneously, or accidentally, as in a kind of play—though, of course, with maximum control and respect for the painterly values and principles I have learned and acquired…

Miraš Martinović: How important is the place, the spirit of the place you come from? One can feel it in your paintings.

Ibrahimović: I believe that is the essence of all artistic creation—recognisability through the work of the person who creates it: who they are and where they come from, what they do, and in a certain sense, the kind of character the creator himself possesses… I also believe that a creator who loses that thread, the connection with his native land and his origins, is not on the right path, and that his work is doomed to failure from the outset. Perhaps it is a harsh judgement—but I believe so. A person, and especially an artist, should not be “separated” from himself. It would not even make sense.

Miraš Martinović: The past year was marked by several exhibitions, so let us recall them and also say something about your plans for the future: possible exhibitions this year and perhaps next year?

Ibrahimović: From April of last year in Podgorica to this exhibition in Nîmes, I held seven exhibitions, and I now feel it would be good to pause for a while, let the impressions settle, and then see what comes next: how to proceed, and whether anything should be changed. In the coming period, I will endeavour to apply to some cities and galleries where I have not yet presented my work.

Miraš Martinović: Where would you most like to exhibit?

Ibrahimović: I would like it to be in one of the cities, such as Ljubljana or Belgrade. Though it would mean repeating a certain experience, I might once again wish for Zagreb and its audience…

Miraš Martinović Herceg Novi, Saturday, 7 July 2018.