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Everything seems to imply that this is a remarkable artist. His name is forcing the jaw to chew asteroid debris filled with cloves: Wojtek Siudmak. Then comes his realm: science fiction. And his style – the hyperrealistic fantasy, as he calls it. Finally the matter: he does not accept the oil as it is too substantial, as well as watercolours, filled too much with light transparency of water, this is neither too heavy gouache, but acrylic painting based on ethyl acid obtained by oxidation of acrolein. ‘Acrolein?’, you ask. The one associated with leaks of coolants. This shivering knight, forcing his way through snowdrifts, brings us clean welcome in it’s iciness. Wojtek Mutant, Acrylic Siudmak, a mix of acid and a frozen lake, throws us a stone meteorite of distant worlds and trances of emanating future. In the thin air of eternity heroes arise. With tortured muscles, Tarzans of the innocence, the murderers of old rentiers from Neuilly should be tormented by remorse. Roland’s sword in their hands is replaced by a laser. The new Adam is recalling old legends and wants to be a Tristan of his Isolda in the 21st century. He creates a relationship with her only when he wears his feminine face, while she adopts strong man-like features à la Ursula Andress.

The real future of Adam is the ‘interstellar android traversing through time’, vending human figure with a motorcycle helmet like a broken shell of a boiled egg. Plucked and castrated robot. It is pointless to search the base of his belly for an organ that makes phallocrats treated like remaining males of matriarchy. The woman is an unsurpassed winner. Siudmak keeps all of her attributes. He gives her a gentle invincible grace no matter a pose she is drawn in. Tempted like Lykonia with ‘the fruit from Karras empire’ or like Oriana triumphant over monsters with big amazed eyes, defies scars and burning, which completely destroy Adam. With his painting purity, reminiscent of Ingres, taking Gustave Moreau’s austerity under his wing and Dal.’s focus, Siudmak celebrates perpetual Assumption of Woman, heir to the medieval Holy Virgin, the queen of angels. Among spacecrafts wading after skies she sings the immortal Ave Maria, echoing repeatedly humble bows of Villon, who after the death agony describes:

Death makes him shiver and pale, sharpens his nose, twists his veins even the bodies of women, so tender and precious, must bear these pangs or else go straight alive to heaven.

[Fran.ois Villon, Le Testament, translated by Henry De Vere Stacpoole – translator’s note]
Preface to portfolio, Siudmak – Univers fantastique, Editions Julliard, Paris 1980.

Paul Guth
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