MUJKIC'S PICTURES

Exhibition
Admir Mujkic: Journey, prints, 2001, Sarajevo

prof. dr. Rusmir Mahmutcehajic

MUJKIC'S PICTURES

Mujkić’s graphics impress in the unease of thought the possible solidification of notions on their material nature, of their comparability with exemplary symbols, of their connection with traditional narratives and a distancing from prevailing formulae.

The measured quality of the relationship between forms, the restrained colour palette, the belief in white as garlanding each graphic sign, and the commitment to the artisanship that has vanished beyond narrative, all point to leading connoisseurs of Bosnia’s graphic experience. But the washes and clarity, the quietude and solitude of the laid whitenesses and clear calligraphic inscriptions in old-gold frames and parsimonious reds and dark blues in the manuscripts of sacred verses hover between Mujkić’s signs on the expanses of the pictures. All the pictures, which read from one folio to another, speak of Mujkić’s uncontestable presence in the studio and narrative of the dependable, quiet masters of graphics, old and new, in Bosnia.

Not one of Mujkić’s folios lacks an inquiry into the relationship between the finite and the open, the transient and the eternal. In every breath, the world is destroyed and rises again. But not one moment captures either its Axis or its Centre. This is the mystery Mujkić addresses in his quest to say something about it, and in so doing, he draws ever closer to the ineffable. This too is the living voice of his graphic narrative, which comprises the permanence of the circle and the repetition of Memory, along with the inexhaustibility of Unicity. Every detail, every motion is within it, together with their inadequacy to confirm Oneness and Peace. The presence of Sufis is understandable, therefore, seated with the whirling and influence of the Ineffable that spins around the axis of the world, failing to find it in any form, immersed in listening and looking, while the Beauty of the Face of the All-merciful is never exhausted.

The question that arises from all this is whether Mujkić’s reprintings reflect an achieved and tranquil graphic skill in which his fascination and concentration move and manifest themselves with ease.

In the prevailing disconnectedness from the supreme and ineffable that characterizes the modern age, assaults come thronging from below, from the lower regions of existence, unformed matter and all that ends up there. The discourse of the All-high seems to have been broken off in our inability to read the signs in the outer horizons and our inner selves. Fear of the encounter with the multitude of reflections that denote without uttering prompts us to questions that have been declared off bounds in our clouded visions. Is it possible to find the human centre as the point of contact between eternity and every “now?” How are we to find, in all the dispersal to the four corners of the world, the unshakeable, inexhaustible centre of humanity? Is there knowledge that would also be existence? And if there is, how is one to be certain? If there is no return in time and space, is it to be found in reassembling what has been dispersed in the outer horizons and concentrating it within the self?

The discourse of Mujkić’s pictures brings them back to speechlessness as the principle of all that is known. They indicate that listening is more meaningful than speech, and that every inscription points to Whiteness.

The art of the modern age, as the expression of the ego that sees itself as essentially self-sufficient and independent, says almost nothing, it would seem, about the meaning of humanity. The question of good and evil, or of ugliness and beauty, becomes ever more remote in this view of the world and the inner self. But the passion for speech is increasingly overwhelming the silence. It often seems that every remembrance of the Ineffable, and the need to renew our covenant with it, has wholly vanished from the image of the times. Though there is more and more art, more and more artists, there is less and less beauty as the manifestation of eternity in temporal changes. Multiplicity is becoming its own reason and purpose. But the human self still cries out, in an ever more muted language: To Thee we surrender and Thee only we serve.

Mujkić’s pictures are like an unexpected glimpse from somewhere in the displaced centre of the self that has become a life prisoner within itself, and has lost all openness to the Absolute. They are thus the voice of a possible return to seeing and listening. They often reflect beauty and silence like aliens in the world without God to which we have become accustomed. They are thus a reminder of the possibility of renewing our connection with Openness as Knowledge, Orientation as the Path, and Virtue as Clemency and Generosity.

Rusmir Mahmutćehajić