Printovi sa moje nedavno završene samostalne izložbe dostupni su za prodaju, po ceni od 500 din. po posteru. (Naglašavam da su u ovom trenutku to jedini primerci!) 24 kolaža dimenzija 30 x 40 cm + dva kolaža dimenzija 45 x 30 cm (Sjaj + Predivna obmana) štampano je na papiru od 300g, a ostali (60 x 40 cm) na poster papiru od 150g. Čekić i dleto je zbog kiše zadobio par braonkastih flekica prilikom postavljanja, tako da njega prodajem po nižoj ceni od 300 din. Poštom šaljem samo porudžbine od minimum pet radova, a poštarinu plaća poručilac.
Oct 24, 2024
Oct 8, 2024
Chimeric Transmission
Chimeric Transmission - one of the pieces from my Color Dolor series of digital collages - received a most wonderful invitation for the upcoming (digital) exhibition in the Thomson Gallery, in Switzerland. I feel like riding the cloud nine at the moment...
Dear Nikola Gocic,
I hope you're doing well. My name is Tim from the Thomson Gallery, and I recently came across your extraordinary digital artwork, Chimeric Transmission, on ARTBOXY. The surreal blend of organic forms, fantastical elements, and intricate textures creates a captivating narrative that invites the viewer to explore the boundaries between reality and imagination. The layered composition and delicate balance between natural and otherworldly motifs align beautifully with the gallery’s vision of showcasing thought-provoking, avant-garde works.
We would be honored to invite you to submit Chimeric Transmission for our upcoming digital exhibition next month. The digital format will magnify the surrealist depth and intricacies of your collage, providing an immersive experience that will resonate with our audience. Your ability to merge dreamlike imagery with detailed, almost scientific precision makes this piece a perfect addition to the exhibition.
We sincerely hope you will consider submitting Chimeric Transmission for this exciting digital showcase, and we look forward to the opportunity to share your work with a wider audience.
Warm regards,
Tim
Thomson Gallery
Oct 1, 2024
Best Premiere Viewings of September 2024
Sep 1, 2024
Best Premiere Viewings of August 2024
A gorgeous confluence of glowing lights, silvery grays and funereal shadows makes Taichi Kimura’s feature debut a sheer delight to look at, with an eclectic score – at turns gently evocative and dissonantly foreboding – elevating the viewing experience, even when the narrative loses momentum. Unfolding in an unhurried pace, the story revolves around a grieving taxi driver, Akira Morishima (a superb turn from Kentez Asaka), who’s gradually losing his grip on reality, transforming ‘from a relatable everyman to a ticking time bomb ready to explode’ (Sean Barry, Asian Movie Pulse). Inebriated with (deceptive) memories of his dead singer wife, and obsessed by another woman who is the spitting image of his Sayuri, Akira leads us through the (surrealistic) labyrinth of his troubled mind that finds its embodiment in the streets of Tokyo – treated as a character in its own right. Breaking no new ground in the domain of psychological dramas, ‘Afterglows’ is nevertheless a commendable effort – a solid stepping stone for whatever Kimura has in store next.
A Selection of Recent Artworks (XXI)
The Intoxicating Perseverance of Dusk / Опојна истрајност сутона
Fragments of life, probably imaginary, almost saintly, slowly fade away. Their light sounds like the second name of oblivion, an invitation to calm. Once they were gray, but now the fire licks the ice, if pondering, then twice. Is it tenderness, madness, or death in a bridal gown they seek?
Фрагменти живота, вероватно имагинарног, замало светог, натенане нестају. Њихова светлост звучи као друго име заборава, позив за затишје. Некада су били сиви, али сада ватра лиже лед, двапут ако се премишља. Да ли је нежност, лудило или смрт у венчаници оно за чиме трагају?
Jul 31, 2024
Best Premiere Viewings of July 2024
Assisted by the top-notch production and costume designs, gruesomely detailed prosthetics, meticulous framing, and pulsating score, writer-director Fargeat excels as a visual storyteller, directing with a firm hand, and eliciting uninhibited performances from the leading stars – Demi Moore (Elisabeth Sparkle, vulnerable and desperate) and Margaret Qualley (Elisabeth’s youthful and sassy alter-ego, Sue), and some high-camp sleaze from Dennis Quaid (whose supporting character isn’t named Harvey for nothing).
Imbued with mystery from the very first chord, and wonderfully matched to the hazy imagery of the opening sequence, Gerald Busby’s sublimely uncanny score anticipates the offbeatness that would gently shroud the proceedings in Robert Altman’s allegedly ad libbed feature. Elevating the weirdness are beautifully bizarre murals by the most reticent of three women (or three personas of one woman?) portrayed by Shelley Duvall, Sissy Spacek and Janice Rule, each actress lending the film her own (divine!) idiosyncrasy, all the while synergizing on the mood-spectrum between yellow and purple. A dreamlike reflection on identity, ‘3 Women’ is nothing short of a transcendental cinematic delight.
Reportedly not intended to operate as a political allegory, the first adaptation of Jack Finney’s 1954 novel undeniably reflects the fear of totalitarianism, and loss of identity, intensified by somniphobia. Pervaded by an increasingly strong feeling of (palpable!) dread and paranoia, it is a fine example of building suspense through the simplest of means, with Don Siegel’s sharp direction, and resonant performances, particularly from Kevin McCarthy in the leading role, anchoring the film.
Initially composed of three self-contained stories linked through the theme of the door that separates one’s own ‘enlightened home’ (good) from ‘dark jungle’ (evil), ‘Never Open That Door’ was cut to the first two (morality) tales, with the third one (If I Should Die Before I Wake) released as a stand-alone feature. Both adapted from Cornell Woolrich’s (aka William Irish) writings, the parts of this ‘diptych’ are cinematically engaging spins on film noir, with ‘Somebody on the Phone’ playing out like a revenge thriller of sorts, and ‘The Humming Bird Comes Home’ blending suspense and poignancy in an astounding crime drama. Directed with a strong sense of mystery by prolific Argentinian filmmaker Carlos Hugo Christensen, they leave the viewer with some unanswered questions even after their twists are revealed, and the curtains are closed on the hypnotizing interplay of light and shadows...
If ‘M’ had been told through the eyes of a child, the resulting film would’ve probably been pretty close to ‘If I Die Before I Wake’. A sensitive topic of pedophilia is dealt with utmost care by Christensen and the entire cast led by then 15-yo Néstor Zavarce, with fairy tale tropes skillfully weaved into the nightmarish story. Deeply resonating with it are the expressive cinematography by Pablo Tabernero, sweeping score by Julián Bautista, and exquisite production design by Gori Muñoz, most memorable for the surrealistic opening and dream sequences.
If you’re looking for a super-cool B-movie refreshment that features ‘killer’ animatronics, Rachel Weisz’s cameo debut, a bunch of nerdy references, and Brad Dourif as a mad scientist or, I quote, ‘a prime example of acute violent psychosis, allied to extreme technical virtuosity’, then you probably know how I’m gonna end this sentence. Add to that a good sense of humor and suspense matched to stylish cinematography, and you have one of the most impressive directorial debuts from a special FX expert turned filmmaker.
The hypnotic ‘talkiness’ of Duras meets picturesque theatricality of Monteiro’s ‘Silvestre’, with the effective use of primary colors – red and blue in particular – bringing the 60’s Godard to one’s mind. There’s also something Ruizian about those time-jumps, yet José Álvaro Morais’s fiction debut stands on its offbeat own. A heady, ‘art imitates life and vice versa’ mixture of a melancholic ‘memorial’, temperamental break-up drama, and politically charged intrigue set against a high-profile staging of medieval novel ‘The Jester’ by Alexandre Herculano (1810-1877), the feature is deeply rooted in Portuguese history which will certainly befuddle many uninitiated viewers (such as myself), and simultaneously leave a strong, lasting impression, by virtue of purely cinematic artifices.
The first Harmony Korine’s offering to pique my interest is an audacious take on crime genre – thin on plot, but thick on trippin’ inner monologuing, and even thicker on mesmerizing thermal imaging further elevated to a whole new ‘phantasmagorical video game’ level through the use of augmented reality effects, and what can be described as ‘living AI tattoos’. A zero-fucks-given meeting point between low-brow and high-brow art, it plunges the viewer into a demonically somnambulist version of Miami underbelly – a hallucinogenic sea of iridescent colors tamed by the inebriating haze of ambient electronica and whispery voices. Although not as radical, or alchemical as Daniel & Clara’s 2016 mysterious fantasy ‘In Search of the Exile’ which achieves the ‘infrared vision’ looks through a more elaborate / layered experimentation, ‘AGGRO DR1FT’ is a peculiar chunk of postmodern cinema – a sourly sweet treat for the adventurous.
‘Shot on glorious 35mm’, as noted in the ending credits, the third feature from Franz & Fiala (Goodnight Mommy, The Lodge) brims with stills you wish to frame and hang on the wall of a gallery (many kudos to cinematographer and Jessica Hausner’s frequent collaborator Martin Gschlacht). The film’s sublime visual beauty is only matched by the heaviness of its ominously autumnal atmosphere – a reflection of its heroine’s troubled state of mind, untreated in an isolated 18th century environment of religious dogmatism, day-to-day grind, in-laws’ oppression, and patriarchal toxicity. A harrowing, slow-burning examination of crippling depression, ‘The Devil’s Bath’ is a severely unsettling character study, at turns psychologically draining and viscerally relentless, firmly anchored in the devastatingly dedicated performance from Anja Plaschg.
Not the first, nor the last indie gothic deeply rooted in its protagonist’s grieving, ‘Dead Whisper’ is an eerie slow-burner that plunges the viewer into a surrealistic nightmare of a Cape Cod lawyer, Elliot Campbell (a stellar turn from Samuel Dunning), lured to a mysterious island – a domain of a demonic entity dubbed The Historian (Rob Evan, creepy from the apparitional get-go) – where the soul of his baby daughter may reside. Set some time in the past, with no cellphone in sight, this bleak and chilling psychological drama marks the feature debut for writer/director/editor Conor Soucy whose keen sense of dense atmosphere is wonderfully matched by Ben Grant’s taut frame composition often channeling the spirit of Andrew Wyeth, as well as by Nikhil Koparkar’s broodingly ominous score harmonized with desaturated colors of the steely palette.