Article issued in md - international magazine of design of december 2006

I paint what I feel

Portrait of the artist: Robert Arató

They have been around for about six years, these big pictures with their blue sky, calm sea, deserted beach and broad horizon. Many a passer-by may have believed them to be large photographs, but those who felt compelled to stop by the sight of almost four metres of beach and water were soon fascinated by the committed care that goes into these presentations of simple natural phenomena. In the meantime, the sky and sea in Robert Arató's pictures are not as perfectly calm as they used to be; on these giant formats with an area of between two and twenty square metres they are sometimes more dynamic and no longer celebrate the elements so exclusively at peace as was originally the case, though his handwriting remains unmistakable. Robert Arató, it would seem, has rediscovered the seascape, and at the same time shaken off this genre so convincingly that he now attracts attention not only at the relatively young Art Fair in Karlsruhe but elsewhere too. Wherever his German agent arranges for him to be shown, the artist and his work meet with strong approval.

Robert Arató was born in 1959 and has lived and worked on Ibiza since 1996. In 1968 his parents fled from what was then Czechoslovakia to Germany. "For me, painting has always been so self-evident, just like breathing, that at first it never revealed to me what I would be able to make out of it. For painting to become my profession, I first had to accumulate experience in other areas. Robert Arató recalls: "I was inquisitive too: looking into various life-models was more important for me than thinking about how to earn my daily bread. I always tackled things only when I felt like doing so. "After completing painting courses in San Francisco and Munich, he did not work exclusively as a freelance artist but also as an architect, an interior designer and an illustrator. At that time he designed stage settings, developed film concepts and even worked on experimental composite structures for aircraft. For his services to heritage conservation, he was awarded first prize ('Europa Nostra') in 1986 by the international historic monument commission ... protection of our heritage was always one of his genuine concerns, and to some small degree a means of assuaging one's craving for the past.

"The affair with the aircraft", he continues, "had a direct connection with painting. Both painting and flying are more rational than emotional activities, and the way you look at things is also the same. The painter concentrates totally on the tip of his brush, or else there's no fun in what he is doing. The orientation you need is the same as when flying an aircraft: you have to know where you are despite the fact that you are concentrating on a single point. I suspect that birds of prey that fly at a great height see things the way we painters do. Regardless of what we paint, the distance we maintain from the picture is just as if we were viewing it from a great height. By this I don't mean the activity itself, which is made up of technique, feeling and intention; nor do I mean the reality of paintbrushes, paint and canvas. I mean the 'distance' from the story in my head. Without that, painting would not be professional." Robert Arató started to paint as a true professional artist only a few years after moving to Ibiza, though as a new beginning this was not as dramatic as it seemed. He and his wife simply wanted to go where there was sun and sea. It was on Ibiza that the idea he had nurtured for so long finally took shape, though here too the large blue pictures with which his name soon became associated only appeared later. "I have always painted, but different things. And ten years ago I still didn't consider myself to be a professional artist. The pictures dating from that time were exercises or perhaps experiments. I hadn't earned any significant sums of money with them until then either. I reconstructed houses, supervised building work and then at some moment or other, not before, I threw the switch and began to paint seascapes and sea views. Before that I was on a philosophical trip, I painted cosmologies that were highly symbolic - in the choice of materials too. Sad little altar-pieces, I would call them now. I have kept a few of them; I have never made any effort to sell my earlier pictures. If people came to the studio and fancied them, it was all right I by me, but not important."

The beach, sea and sky of Ibiza were Robert Arató's new environment, and before long he felt the urge to make an honest approach to these infinite, unchanging motifs. "I always had a problem with colleagues and professors in the 1980s, whose view was that anything of value in art came from the tension created by conflict. I couldn't go along with that. For me, painting was too valuable and, although a matter of course for me, something too sacred to misuse for that kind of purpose. I didn't want to break things down and analyse them in order to create artificial tension. That was really what I had been doing with my earlier pictures. On the contrary, I wanted to achieve a synthesis and bring things together. So I took what was already there - reality, according to the principle 'if it's there, it must be good'. That's the message - my message, and it does not aim to educate anyone or make a social statement, because if you ask me that isn't the artist's job. For me, art is more of a 'bonsai' version of reality - inner or outer reality -, one that creates a special kind of intensity and increased awareness of what's actually there. Any what's there where I live? The sea - in every direction. I see it every day. As it happens, I used always to avoid water. My origins are in the mountains of Eastern Slovakia, where there are dense forests but no deep water. So I guess I owed myself a glimpse of the sea. Not as a problem or therapy, but purely out of interest. How does water actually function? You get a genuine feeling for the sea, its moods and so forth. Off Ibiza, it is very laid-back for nine months of the year, and almost unashamedly relaxed."

The details, colours and light in his pictures recall painting from nature, though it seems highly unlikely that anyone would go down to the beach clutching such a giant canvas. Robert Arató works from photographs. Does this mean that he could produce his seascapes equally well in a studio in Berlin or in Switzerland? "No, I couldn't do that, I wouldn't try." is his prompt reaction. "In Berlin I would paint houses, and in Switzerland probably cows grazing. It would be a bit too far-fetched to paint seascapes there, they wouldn't be authentic enough. The actual atmosphere is important: although I have to climb on to the roof of my studio to see the sea, it's always there! Photos are like musical scores: the music comes from inside. Photos are a help: they contain individual aspects, for instance of how the water moves, what the light is doing and how to look at specific details. The composition of a photo seldom matches my own conception - but the composition is an important factor: photos provide useful support. Sometimes I put an ethereal, supernatural light into my pictures, such as you would never find in a photo but which we sometimes see on our island. At moments like these you think that the 'Great Stage Designer' must be out of his mind! But I don 't interpret photo-aesthetics as many of my colleagues do. Photography is quite different, so I leave it to the photographers. I can and will only paint what I feel or what generates feelings in me. On Ibiza, that means the sea. But although it seems so amiable, this Mediterranean island is not paradise. Ibiza is hard in its own special way. It has a metamorphosing effect: you undergo an inner change when you're on this island. It's not first and foremost its outward charm; the island works on you subversively like a sweet-tasting poison, and suddenly you realise that you want to be quite a different person. The decisive question is then: are you or are you not brave enough?" Arató had the necessary courage, and it worked. The pictures from his early years, full of 'meaning' and overloaded with intellect have given way to calm interpretations of what is present and what is simple. Has the island succeeded in this? Arató is certain: indirectly it has. Provided of course that one cooperates!

Those who see his pictures note in particular their light, airy colours, like a stage setting for the light of the Mediterranean. Arató uses two basic colour systems: the old one derived from Goethe's theory of colours and the newer, higher-frequency one used in modem printing technology. "This is as if one were tuning a musical instrument to a higher pitch. I have tried to work with the two systems independently, but I have now discovered that a combination of the two is ideal. There are certain elements in pictures that call for the old system that's solid, conservative and down-to-earth, but if you really want something 'sinful', to make what's already beautiful sharper and even more appealing, then the classical system reaches its limits. With the new cyan, magenta and bright yellow you can achieve much more potent vibrations, and the colour tension is definitely higher on calm surfaces. Apart from white, I only use six pigments when mixing the shades I use in my pictures; they blend together well and are extremely stable. " Arató laughs here and adds: "Old maxim of the trade: big painter, small palette!"

His most recent pictures look different. Here, Arató puts on a serious expression and declares: "Yes, they are different, because I have built them up on a black ground. The classic white canvas doesn't correspond with reality, because you always take something away when you work on it. But reality is what interests me. Painting on a white ground constantly kills off the light, and that is not the 'truth I'm looking for. The truth would be to see right through the daylight sky to the black universe beyond it. It's quite mistaken to think that black is nothing. The frequency of black just happens to be higher than visible light, and black is where it all starts. In the end, that's what persuaded me to take black as my starting point. It's not an a priori question of pigments, but a question of energy and purpose. You have to feel it, see it, imagine it. For me, working on black is more than just priming the canvas with that colour. On black, on this 'nothing', you have to paint so that that the picture supports itself; you have to resist the pull of the 'black hole'. In most cases, it's difficult to correct properly or completely over black, because what you are applying has to be transparent or semi-transparent, or it will have a dead look about it. Sunlight works in much the same way. And if you are obliged to handle big clusters of light, you make the layers thicker, but the entire picture still lives from its transparency or from superimposed transparent layers. You have to be hellishly careful, because sometimes just a little has a monumental effect. This is all less critical over white, because I can always go back over it again. I had this vision of working on black last summer as a kind of message.

Since then, my painting has been different. It has quite suddenly reached a new stage of maturity. It's the pictures that now decide, not me. You could say that I don't fiddle around in them like I did before. I don 't force the issue, you might say, and suddenly I don't have any desire to change things. One accepts what happens, and that's a sign of maturity. The pictures 'paint themselves', and this alone has made it possible to work on a black background. Before it would have been unthinkable. " He feels this to be a question of craft technique, but of course also a question of the 'distance one has run', and of the certainty in what one does, with nothing having to be proved any more. He has no intention of giving up seascapes: on the contrary, he still has a lot to do in that area. To make the comparison with flying again, this is only the moment of take-off - and who knows where the flight is headed for?

Since 2000, Robert Arató has painted several dozen pictures a year, and sold them through galleries internationally. He fears the pressure that his agent sometimes exerts, but values it too, since pressure to deliver on time often concentrates the energies that he needs in order to paint. He values his galleries's work very highly, and is glad that cooperation takes place on a basis of absolute trust. Arató is quite sure that despite the ready acceptance his pictures find, he would have no chance of success without the gallerias' work. The situation that other talented colleagues have encountered, he says, bears this out. The artist sees the universal appeal of his pictures as another reason for their notable success. There are no personal factors that need to arouse similar feelings in the observer before the pictures can make their appeal. Breadth, magnitude, light and dark, harmony and other such factors go beyond all personal experience and are familiar to everyone. They make it easier to find pictures of this kind attractive and buy them. But there is a further factor that goes deeper: it may well be the perfect balance between the four classic elements, earth, water, air and fire and genuine credibility in every way.

EXHIBITIONS:
1977 Volkshochschule, Lemgo
1984 ABK, München
1988 Weserrenaissancemuseum, Lemgo
1993 Museum Villa am Silberberg, Ahrweiler
1995 Arminius, Bad Salzuflen
1996 Reis Museum, Mannheim
1996 La Maison de L'Eléphant, Ibiza
1997 EAA Convention, Oshkosh, Wi.
1997 Virginia Bader Fine Art, Los Angeles
1997 Es Cubells, Ibiza
1997 Bajuwarenmuseum, Waging
1989 Village, Ibiza
1999 Magazin, Ibiza
2000 paint works®,1biza
2000 paint works® 2
2000 paint works® 3
2001 paint works® 4
2001 paint works® 5
2001 paint works® 6
2001 paint works® 7
2001 paint works® 8
2001 paint works® 9
2001 Galerie Lauth, Ludwigshafen
2001 Steinmühle, Lemgo
2002 Ambiente, Frankfurt a.M.
2002 Galerie Art Unlimited, Neustadt.
2002 Modern Art Gallery, Karlsruhe
2002 Galerie Spagl, Passau
2003 Ambiente, Frankfurt a.M.
2003 Galeria Altalene, Madrid


COMMISSIONS:
1982 Stadttheater, Heidelberg
1982 Bayrischer Rundfunk, München
1983 Stadttheater, Heidelberg
1985 Haus Backs, Bad Salzuflen
1986 Stadt Passau
1987 Stadt Kempten
1987 Prähistorische Sts.sammlung, München
1988 Giehler, Bad Salzuflen
1990 LAD Rheinland-Pfalz, Koblenz
1991 Rheinisches Landesmuseum, Bonn
1991 Kloster Malgarten
1992 LAD Rheinland-Pfalz, Koblenz
1992 Rheinisches Landesmuseum, Bonn
1992 LAD Rheinland-Pfalz, Koblenz
1993 LAD Rheinland-Pfalz, Koblenz
1993 Museum Villa am Silberberg, Ahrweiler
1993 LAD Bayern, München
1994 Museum Villa am Silberberg, Ahrweiler
1995 Universität Passau
1997 Bajuwarenmuseum, Waging
1999 Archäologi Museum, Gunzenhausen
2001 Archäologisches Museum, Künzing