home ¯: discussion

 
 

Taras Voznyak

Before the gate of the Law or suggestions
for understanding the painting of Vladimir Budnikov

Before the law sits a gatekeeper. To this gatekeeper comes a man from the country who asks to gain entry into the law. But the gatekeeper says that he cannot grant him entry at the moment. The man thinks about it and then asks if he will be allowed to come in later on. “It is possible,” says the gatekeeper, “but not now.” At the moment the gate to the law stands open, as always, and the gatekeeper walks to the side, so the man bends over in order to see through the gate into the inside. When the gatekeeper notices that, he laughs and says: “If it tempts you so much, try it in spite of my prohibition. But take note: I am powerful. And I am only the most lowly gatekeeper. But from room to room stand gatekeepers, each more powerful than the other. I can’t endure even one glimpse of the third.”( Before the Law, Franz Kafka ).

   This is how Franz Kafka outlined the meaning of everything he did in his life - not only writing texts, though he refers to texts in the first place - but the sense of all his life's efforts was to "enter into the Law." Well, what will you say - apparently he was talking about entering a religious canon, in which were generations and generations of his ancestors - orthodox Jews. But it's really not that simple. We should try to determine for ourselves what is this law. Obviously, the Law, is something inherent, some kind of regulation that defines a person's entire life, perhaps the Truth they are being let down, the Truth that stands before the person who is affirmed before him. Are these hundreds, if not thousands, of the regulations that have determined and continue to determine the life of a religious person? Unlikely. For the secularized Franz Kafka, and for most of us, the Law of his Jewish, and our non-Jewish, however, ritualized religious ancestors has long been out of date. What eventually led to it, but often our extremely neurotic conditions - whether or not the entire Europeanized society has slowly plunged into it over the last few hundred years. We are still yearning for certain law. Evidence of such metaphysical anguish the importance of the Law is not only the art of Kafka, but also the whole ethos of new European intellectual searching, which are increasingly reminds not seeking but throwing … What is his "The Castle" ("Das Schloß", 1926) as not the materialization of the Law in this boulder castle that hangs over the neighborhood in which people nestle. And where the law is, there is its violation and punishment. From there the whole metaphor of the punishment - The Trial (Der Prozeß, 1925), The Judgment (Das Urteil, 1912), In the Penal Colony (In der Strafkolonie, 1914)…

  Did Kafka stand or stood in front of the gate for something to strive for, to yearn for, to hear the sounds of, through dozens of gates and doors? Obviously not. This is a sign of the times. Or an era that lost connection with the law. And once again I emphasize that this is not just about some religious dogmas. Rather, it is a matter of a point of reference on which a person verifies himself and realizes himself. The general paradigm of expectation simply captivated the entire culture of the twentieth century. Moreover, the expectations were manifested in different manifestations - both as their own expectation and as a provocation of the meeting, even by the extreme hysterical demand of the Law to appear and appear before a person. Thus, Samuel Beckett, 1906–1989, or more precisely Estragon and Vladimir, when confronted with the meaninglessness of a world not connected to the law (Molloy, 1951; Malone meurt, 1951; L'innommable, 1953), submissively expects for the manifestation of the Law - "En attendant Godot", 1952. But there were also more toxic requirements for the manifestation of the Law through its provocation, breaking all possible and impossible principles and regulations. Louis-Ferdinand Céline, Destouches, 1894–1961 did not expect nor yearn, but dam up to the open gate of the Law with all possible enthusiasm - provoked the One at the gates or the One at the gates to the manifestation of “Journey to the end of the night” ( Voyage au bout de la nuit), 1932; “Death on Credit” («Mort à credit») (1936). His texts violate all possible and impossible regulations, there are no rules that would not be violated. The law is broken to the ground. But at the same time, a man breaks down - some pieces of meat are left behind ... This rebellion of Celine or his proto-hero, and he himself is Celine, reminds him of the same provocation with violation of the Law of Job … Of course, at times, this expectation, given the personality of the human constitution, took on more ritualized forms, such as Bruno Schulz (1892–1942), a master of both words,  a brilliant writer, and a brilliant graphic artist. And it is Schulz's case that is spectacular when we try to enter into that expectation (and I have no doubt what it is about), which, to my mind, is somehow detached from specifics, as if abstracted by Vladimir Budnikov's art. If I were looking for some verbal expressions of this expectation, and the expectation inevitably implies a certain gravity, temporality, seriality (this term is essential for Budnikov's series), perhaps even fatigue, stretched in time of longing and boredom, then Schulz's prose would be most adequate: " In the black thickets of the park, in the hairy coat of bushes, in the mass of crusty twigs there were nooks, niches, nests of deepest fluffy blackness, full of confusion, secret gestures, conniving looks. It was warm and quiet there. We sat on the soft snow in our heavy coats, cracking hazelnuts of which there was a profusion in that spring-like winter. Through the copse, weasels wandered silently, martens and ichneumons, furry, ferreting elongated animals on short legs, stinking of sheepskin. We suspected that among them were the exhibits from the school cabinets which, although degutted and moulting, felt on that white night in their empty bowels the voice of the eternal instinct, the mating urge, and returned to the thickets for short moments of illusory life.

 

 

© Budnikov V. Square, Flight Series, 2018

   

 But slowly the phosphorescence of the spring-like snow became dulled: it vanished then, giving way to a thick black darkness preceding dawn. Some of us fell asleep in the warm snow, others went groping in the dark for the doors of their houses and walked blindly into the sleep of their parents and brothers, into a continuation of deep snoring which caught up with them on their late return.

These nightly drawing sessions held a secret charm for me, so that now I could nest forgo the opportunity of looking for a moment into the art room. I decided however that I would not stop for more than a little while. But walking up the back stairs, their cedar wood resounding under my steps, I realised that I was in a wing of the school building completely unknown to me. Not even a murmur interrupted the solemn silence. The passages were broader in this wing, covered with a thick carpet and most elegant. Small, darkly glowing lamps were hung at each corner. Turning the first of these, I found myself in an even wider, more sumptuous hall. In one of its walls there was a wide glass arcade leading to the interior of an apartment. I could see a long enfilade of rooms, furnished with great magnificence. The eye wandered over silk hangings, gilded mirrors, costly furniture and crystal chandeliers and into the velvety softness of the luxurious interiors, shimmering with lights, entangled garlands and budding flowers. The profound stillness of these empty rooms was filled with the secret glances exchanged by mirrors and the panic of friezes running high along the walls and disappearing into the stucco of the white ceilings. (Cinnamon Shops Bruno Schulz). What is prose or graphics? What is it, if not expectations. However, again we come back to the question - waiting for what? Schulz gives the following answer: “I faced all that magnificence with admiration and awe, guessing that my nightly escapade had brought me unexpectedly into the Headmaster's wing, to his private apartment. I stood there with a beating heart, rooted to the spot by curiosity, ready to escape at the slightest noise. How would I justify, if surprised, that nocturnal visit, that impudent prying? In one of those deep plush armchairs there might sit, unobserved and still, the young daughter of the Headmaster. She might lift her eyes to mine black, Sybilline, quiet eyes, the gaze of which none could hold. But to retreat half-way, not having carried through the plan I had, would be cowardly. Besides, deep silence reigned in those magnificent interiors, lit by the hazy light of an undefined hour. Through the arcades of the passage, I saw on the far side of the drawing room a large glass door leading to the terrace. It was so still everywhere that I felt suddenly emboldened. It did not strike me as too risky to walk down the short steps leading to the level of the drawing room, to take a few quick steps across the large costly carpet and to find myself on the terrace from which I could get back without any difficulty to the familiar street.” The protagonist of Schulz's text still dared to fly through the gates of the Law in order to escape immediately ...

 

Highly aesthetized, hyper-refined and not seemingly involved in all these human sobs of canvases and Budnikov's graphics, from my point of view, they are the listening to the murmurings, whispers, nests of blackness, dreams, secret gestures. that can be caught near this gate... And Budnikov's creativity, like Kafka's, Beckett's and Schulz's, is not a Céline rebellion, but a respect for the gate. Of course, there is much to discuss, and so to speak, about composition, tactility, tectonics, and these canvases, and this imaginary (or not?) gate. However, the most significant one, to me, is that Budnikov time after time, with almost manic obsession, sketches this portal (the word here is very important for my speculation-portal ), shows it to us from one to the other. side. A little trying to barely lift the veil that hides from us something behind this gate. Thus he constantly and in silence indicates something. Yes, there are many works.  The whole  series. Yes, sometimes that statement seems like a talk of Estragon and Vladimir, or Molloy ...However, with Schulz's respect, because it is no longer a joke, not a clown. It blows from the gate. It is not known what. Not that cold. Not the law. By some norm ... Law and Truth, after all, always appear for a person distant and cold. The human mashup is afraid of it, beware. Budnikov walks with Schulz along the wall, by which is the Law. They give each other master classes in the art of silent silence, sensible minuet lessons - with all due respect to the craft and the art of graphics. Somewhere so metaphorically one could describe what Professor Vladimir Budnikov is doing. I think this text may be somewhat unexpected for him. The analogies and metaphors here are very distant and subtle. They need a great deal of readiness and conciseness with the texts that I am involved in here to at least outline what I want to say about the very difficult work of a distinguished professor. Perhaps they do not correspond at all to how he outlines the meaning of his work. It may be based on the law of crafts, proportions and masses. But that doesn't change anything. It should be remembered that the traditional illusion is that through the work its author not only talks to us, but also fully realizes himself. I think it's more complicated. In the end, because of the various circumstances that I will not expand, it turns out that it is not only we create our works, in our own manner but something or someone leads us - whether a cultural arm, or a "moral law within us" («das moralische Gesetz in mir»; («Kritik der praktischen Vernunft», 1788; Immanuel Kant, 1724–1804), and maybe the law behind the gate? Someone who stands behind this portal? For each answer will be his own answer. This is the subject of long discussions of the same virtual Budnikov and Schulz, who, of course, they did not realize that they were having that long and wise discussion, because for known reasons they could not know each other, they passed away in time - but still continue to discuss… Although, who said they passed. And who is certain that they do not know each other. What matters to us is that they are struggling with the same problem - whether and when they can enter the gate. What if it there is nothing? And then what? And what if we really can't come in? And good advice for a person is not to go there …

 

And again I ask myself, what do my previous speculations have in common with precision-corrected compositions and Budnikov series? And in general, is it important that Budnikov himself agrees with such an interpretation of his work? The answer will be double. In fact, the author's consent, with all due respect to him, is not so significant. On the other hand, I think that the author will deeply agree with this interpretation, even though it will surprise him. But that first impression. It will be overcome - and not in the light of the polity over the author of these considerations, but rather by the sense of what he is trying to put into words. And here comes the result. What does the author say about? And about the fact that the man and the artist of Vladimir Budnikov is a "man on the threshold". Despite all the fear of such analogies, John the Baptist emerges. Yes, he is the archetype of the "man in front of the gate", and the Kafka, and Beckett, and Celine, and Schulz. And Kafka, Beckett, Celine, Schulz themselves are “people in front of the gate”. Is it possible to appeal to them that they did not have the spirit to take the first step and enter that portal? Can they be appealed  because they are "waiting people"? Not at all. Because the decision, despite all the illusion that you can just enter this gate and then "open" to you, is illusory. And Kafka, on one page of his text, showed it in every possible way. The portal opens at its own time and in its place, when it wants to explain it to us in an unexplained way. For John the Baptist, too, it was quite obvious that there was a portal in front of him. But he could not enter this gate. The era of abandonment is not over. Let us take this metaphor in this text as a metaphor, not as a  religious credo - the Law is something broader, if we may say so. And it is futile to try to encourage its completion. The portal opens whenever it wants. Someone will say when there are appropriate conditions. Yes. It will open in appropriate time. And before that, we must listen, sniff the air, catalog every stroke of the portal that may someday be born of the Truth revealed in revelation, the form of which we do not know and cannot know that revelation. And it may not be born. At least in our life, life in front of the gate.

 

1. Franz Kafka. Before the Law / Translated from German by Ivan Koshelevtsi // Ukraine and Jews, Hebrews, Jews. Lviv, Independent Cultural Journal “Ї”, 1996.

2. Samuel Beckett. Waiting for Godot / Translated from the French by Vladimir Dibrova // French play of the twentieth century. Theatrical avant-garde. - Kiev: Fundamentals, 1993.

3. Bruno Schulz. Cinnamon Shops / Translation from Polish Taras Wozniak // Wozniak Taras. Bruno Schulz. Return. - Lviv: Independent Cultural Journal “Ї”, 2012.