| Nedko Solakov
by Merrily Kerr
At first glance, it’s an empty room. But on closer
inspection, Nedko Solakov’s Special Project Room reveals itself as a fantasy world of
miniature drawings and texts lightly inscribed on the gallery wall. As the visitor’s
vision adjusts to take in the detail, it becomes apparent that the light bulbs on the
ceiling are in conversation, an assortment of little creatures occupies the rafters and an
army of ant sized human figures are sitting, marching, and running along the walls.
Solakov doesn’t make art to hang on the wall but
instead makes art out of the wall itself. And the fact that the room is threatened by
gaping holes in the ceiling and lit by bare lightbulbs just adds to the possibilities.
Flaws in the plastering form the basis for a landscape, a frowning face, and other
humorous doodles. Add a fish speeding across the wall, a walking black hole, an erect
penis, lots of freelancing sperms, various starfish-like creatures and a mini solar system
and a wacky universe starts to emerge.
The real stars, however, are the tiny, gender-neutral human
figures, standing at about a quarter inch high. Whether alone or in groups, they are often
involved in some kind of frustrated interaction with each other, and the lighthearted
doodles take a turn towards the cynical. In one corner, a figure on one wall declares,
"I’m alone." On the opposite wall, a few inches away, another tiny person
replies, "I’m alone, too." Are they meeting secretly? Or is each admitting
loneliness? When they are in groups, the little people pair off into the ‘good
guys’ and ‘bad guys’ and fight it out.
Trouble is also brewing above the world of the ant people,
up with the toy people who occupy the ceiling. In one corner of the room, a mini-drama
plays out as one plastic toy, an evil alien, breaks the news to his Tellytuby son that his
mother is actually the plastic shark perched next to them. Meanwhile, on the floor, an
older coat of dark gray paint informs its cheeky, light gray neighbor that it is not
‘depressing’ but is instead ‘mature.’
The ludicrous scenarios are funny because they seem so far
from reality. For a moment at least, onlookers can lose their adult sensibilities and
indulge in the fantasy that toys can talk and that the walls have not only ears but
mouths, too. But the humor is short-lived. Instead of occupying a pleasant fantasy world,
the toys too have grown up and express adult opinions and desires. Far from offering
refuge from the real world, they struggle through the same fears, worries and ambitions as
humans.
Solakov challenges our escapist fantasies by recreating the
human condition in a world reserved for childhood make believe and adult nostalgia. But
also, by bringing the ‘serious’ into the world of the ‘fun,’ the
artist encourages his audience to reevaluate their real problems with relationships,
loneliness or disappointment from a new perspective, one in which they are not alone and
maybe they can laugh a little. The toys may not provide any answers, but at least they can
empathize.
Written close to the ceiling of one wall is, a "Very
important message about the meaning of life…" Just when Solakov might be making
some grand statement to tie together the rag tag bunch of creatures in the room, he makes
his writing illegible. Locked out of a concrete explanation, the only thing left to us is
our imagination, which we will continue to have, long after the pencil marks have been
painted over and the room handed over to the next artist.
Merrily Kerr is an art historian and freelance art writer
living in New York City. |
