Andrzej Nowacki. Exploring the square

Introduction
 

A white square seems to float above the black, also square background area. Over it, stopped in their movement, are three lines drawn in black which rise upwards on the right, not precisely parallel to the left-hand edge. Three tangible lines, shown as a relief due to the physicality of the wooden spars. It is as though they are longing for a contact that can never come to fruition, since nothing more exists beyond the square. They are disconcerting, yet they also feel harmonious; they are silent and black in their white surroundings.

This was in 1987, in West Berlin, one of Andrzej Nowacki’s first exhibitions. In the interim, his art has changed significantly, yet there is a clear path of development from the early years to his current work. The path did not simply run straight. Individual phases interchanged, alternated, and to a certain extent inspired each other. However, several constant, unmistakeable features are recognisable. There is emotive expressiveness counterpointed by the strict, abstract language of geometry and the preferred form: the relief, a three-dimensional, spatial image. In a square.

 

Life journeys 1
 

There appears to be nothing special about the place where Nowacki was born, a small provincial town in the south of Poland. It would be difficult to determine how much influence it would have on his later life. The area was once part of the legendary territory of Galicia, now lost, a strip of land in the Austro-Hungarian Empire. With its unique, multicultural history, the old myths surrounding this region, which now belongs to Poland, can still be felt today. However, every province harbours a centrifugal force that can hurl a person out into the wide outside world.

One important feature was the proximity to Kraków, a cultural and artistic centre, a place that contributed to an opening and to cultural sensitivity. There, the future artist mainly associated with artists and with the students at the Academy. During the 1970s, he made his first trips abroad, to Sweden, Germany and Austria, where he continued his studies.

He gradually took steps towards becoming actively involved in art, no doubt depending on the individuals with whom he came into contact. They included the underrated Polish artist Marian Kruczek (Fig. 01) with his eccentric, creative personality, or the great geometrist Henryk Stażewski (Fig. 02). At the end of the 1970s, Nowacki came to West Germany and finally settled in West Berlin. Up until the period of his artistic initiation, he spent some time working as a specialist and advisor in the field of art. During the mid-1980s, he began to paint. Shortly afterwards, he created his first reliefs, with his début exhibition following in 1987.

 

Room 1: Geometry – dancing and contemplative
 

Initially, he was inspired by images of the Polish master of geometric art, Henryk Stażewski. Today, he says of this period: 

“The fascination that I experienced at that time is almost impossible to express in words. The atmosphere of harmony, peace and order was of key importance, not only within this person, but above all in his pictures. The content of Stażewski’s painting could be clearly felt: it was the introduction of order into chaos. [...] And for me, looking for an inner order in my life, these geometric images held a particular significance; they were a kind of refuge. Also, the ordered space in the pictures harnessed an incredible amount of energy. This was the origin of the inspiration for my own work.”[1]

Everything begins with the square. This perfect geometric form embodies harmony and balance on the one hand, while on the other offering a limited, apparently calm and secure showcase for all manner of artistic activity. Yet the fixed boundaries do not enclose; rather, they loosen, break through, extend beyond themselves, without destroying the harmonious order. It was with this in mind that Andrzej Nowacki began to experiment during his first creative period. The simplest geometric figures, cut out from wooden panels, form the square base area with a certain degree of freedom: a large number of different smaller and larger squares and circles, which sometimes appear halved or broken, of lines that cut through the picture, or which take on a life of their own as empty frames. The mutual relationships between these apparently moving figures determine the inner dynamic of the pictures, intensified by the increasingly liberal use of colours. The artist uses acrylic paints which he mixes himself, thus creating a unique colour palette. The world of his squares during this time was characterised by an interplay of forms and colours, whereby both elements are of equal value and sometimes switch roles: the colour becomes form; the form becomes colour. (Figs. 03, 04, 05, 06)

In 1992, the art historian and curator Hubertus Gaßner wrote the following in the catalogue accompanying Nowacki’s first exhibition in Kraków: “The interplay of restraint and freedom, stability and weakness, calm and fluctuation, gives [...] Andrzej Nowacki’s reliefs the basic tenor of contemplative tension. Framed by right-angled wooden spars, the pulsing heart of the interior does not lie in chains, however. The heartbeat makes the squares dance. His intention: the ensoulment of the geometric, the retrospective clarification of the complex life of the soul. In order to bring order to the chaos of the soul, the artist introduces a healing chaos into the strictly ordered geometry of the squares. It is also a therapeutic creative act. His dancefloor is the square, the most harmonious of all forms. Then, during the process of creation, the field, which is at first calm and at peace with itself, starts to move. However, it is not the forms that dance within the frame, but rather the frame itself that starts to move. It fans out and multiplies itself like afterimages in the eye when registering impressions of movement.”[2]

The variations of these form-and-colour plays seem to extend into infinity. They appear highly emotionally charged and expressive; each relief seems to embody its own story. Nearly every work during this phase was given a poetic title, as though the artist wished to again expressly distance himself from the cool principles of the language of geometry, to travel beyond them and to bring the lyrical content of the image to light.

 

Room 2: The lyricism of colours
 

During the second half of the 1990s, an essential change gradually occurred in the interior of the relief. The broad range of dancing figures on the square picture surface was reduced; the pulsing rhythm slowed down; the colours were often dampened and took on soft velvet tones. In time, the diagonal alignment gave way to a vertically structured order, as though the reliefs were internally straightening themselves up. Activity gradually began to concentrate around the central vertical axis, a new and important element in the structure of the picture. Vertical, rarely horizontal, lines crossed through the square, bundled parallel to each other. Of the geometric forms, only the reduced, at times even miniaturised square (less frequently, a circle) remained, as though shrunk into itself to form a discreet dot, even a dab of colour. (Figs. 07, 08, 09, 10, 11) The pictures were no longer given a title; instead, the date of completion was added as a kind of signature. According to the artist, these images are like pages from a diary that recorded his current emotional state and the degree of density of the energy. This remains his consistent approach even today.

The catalogue accompanying the second exhibition in Kraków in 2002 states the following: “Nowacki trusts his intuition. He feels free, which paradoxically goes hand in hand with the almost radical reduction in form and colour. Now, the role of the wooden spars laid onto the image surface changes. They no longer separate the fields of colour from each other, but instead – positioned against the monochrome background and having become independent – they gradually become the most important element in the image composition.”[3] In the next catalogue, issued one year later, we read: “With all the limitation of the repertoire of form to two basic elements – the square and the vertical straight line – the connection between the two arising from the contradictory symmetry forms created by them generates a tension and animation that are intrinsic to the painting, and which can be felt by the observer through their sense of their own body symmetry and awareness of their bodily movement. The reliefs created in 2001 in particular, with their visually more distinct, not to say dominant, central axis, follow the bilateral symmetry of the human body structure. In an abstract manner, by describing this symmetry axis in the square, they create the same impression as Leonardo da Vinci’s famous sketch of the proportions of the human body, which he drew inside a point-symmetric circle and square.”[4]

 

Room 3: Spar images
 

Slowly, the vertical lines come closer together, taking up more and more space, until finally, the base area, liberated from the earlier dynamic of colours and forms, is entirely consumed by the vertical straight lines. Shown through higher and lower wooden spars and the intervals between them, their colours alone create a radiant aura. The number of colours is limited; they are repeated in specific rhythms determined by the artist. Without being limited by any frame, not even by a background, the relief surface itself becomes the picture. There is also no axis of symmetry, even if this absence is only temporary. (Figs. 12, 13, 13a, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19)

Naturally, these images are reminiscent of a specific creative period of the British painter Bridget Riley, and the artist openly states that she was a source of inspiration. During the first decade of the new millennium, however, he clearly demonstrated his own development and his individual path. In the words of Hubertus Gaßner: “The spar images being produced during this period have liberated themselves entirely from the compositional principles of geometric abstraction, as was represented by the Polish artists Strzemiński and Stażewski, for example. They cross over into the rich tradition of striped images and reliefs, which have been created since the 1950s by Raphael Soto, François Morellet and Bridget Riley, Agnes Martin, Frank Stella and Jean Scully and others. In common with the spar images by these artists, the most recent reliefs by Nowacki have limited the composition to the most simple elements and forms in order to enhance the colours. Colour as the means of expressing feelings and emotions now has the upper hand over the previously complex, dominant compositions consisting of squares and lines.”[5] 

The colours in Nowacki’s squares are wayward, moody, at times truculent. As the great master of colour compositions Josef Albers once said: “As with humans, colour behaves in two different ways: first self-realisation, then the creation of relationships to others.” If they participate in interplay, they live in contrasts and harmonies, in dispute and agreement. They lose their independence, become enmeshed into the coloured line structure. As the artist himself says: “The core value of my artistic works is colour. It supplements, indeed replaces, light. In dialogue with the observer, it forms the words of an unconscious language and becomes a source of energy.”

One key feature of these reliefs is their sensual, tangible, spatial quality, which is created through the wooden structure. First, the empty space of the square fibreboard is overlaid with wooden spars, creating a structure. The raw wood is light and warm, and is still imbued with the scent and memory of the living tree. Everything therefore begins with the engagement with the material, which must be tamed in such a way that it becomes a sensitive support for art. At times, a new dynamic is introduced to the parallel striped field of the relief: the wooden spars run in curves or are broken in a zigzag rhythm; on multiple levels, they suggest hidden geometric forms. From the start, the structure influences the future dialogue between the colours and co-creates the imaginary recessed spatiality.

An intimation of the form is revealed in the complex structure, like a cipher in the language of the linear wooden spars. Without colours, the rhythms still sound wooden, the contours of the figures remain vague and blurred; the horizontal courses of the spars become lost in the vertical order. It is through the colours alone that all the functions of slants, of diagonal lines, of higher and lower wooden spars and all their specific or perceived purposes in the image as a whole become clear. The vertical arrangement is dominant, and it is not yet clear whether it stands for the state of being grounded or whether it conversely promises the ability to overcome gravity. Perhaps the answer is both.

Not least for this reason, this first stage in the creation of a relief is of fundamental importance, even if the actions that relate to it are more reminiscent of handicraft than of art. Yet it is precisely the earth-bound, sensual result of this preliminary work that will characterise the quality of the future image for ever. This handicraft cannot therefore be excluded from the creative process; quite the opposite: already from the start, it is constitutive of the unique nature of Nowacki’s relief images and clearly sets them apart from the works of other artists in this genre.

 

Room 4: Pulsing energy fields
 

Once again, symmetry is introduced: it is the physically existent or only surmised vertical central axis or an ordering centre. Although the vertical rhythms dominate, they do not restrict; they remain the ordering principle alone. If previously, all lines and all intermediate spaces were arranged monochromatically along their entire lengths, now, they are divided according to colour or are shaded, so that for the observer, shimmering forms stand out and the images appear not as geometrically ordered compositions, but as luminous and pulsing energy fields. It is the symmetric order which combined with the repeatability of the rhythms brings forth an intriguing effect, as though the composition is merely a segment of an unending whole that develops further beyond the edges of the picture. The large number of layers contains that third, spatial dimension on the edges of which a depth appears to shimmer out. The gravity of the illusory forms no longer needs to be overcome; they float weightlessly in space, the curvature of which is now visible. We involuntarily become immersed in transcendence. (Figs. 20, 21, 22, 23)

A particularly expressive power is created by the reliefs of radically reduced colourfulness, in which only variations of black and white are at play. (Figs. 24, 25, 26, 27, 28) Thus, the multi-dimensional surface of the composition 24.08.15 (Fig. 24) consists of symmetrically divided squares which overlap in a sophisticated arrangement and slowly turn around their vertical axes. At the surface of perception, pulsing flecks, circles or even balls appear, which gather energy of the highest density. Where the interference of the energy waves takes effect, for a moment, the vibrating centre of the universe appears, only to disintegrate into galaxies of dark and light nodes just a moment later. 

Yet another space is opened by the large-scale, multi-part compositions (Figs. 29, 30, 31, 32), such as the relief entitled 15.01.17 (Fig. 30): a clear, multi-layer consonance of four squares, which permeate each other and rotate on the surface, as a result of which a lilac-coloured appearance is created – like a proclamation of the sacred. The colour composition of the squares (golden green and deep, pure red) produces an almost tangible depth and creates the impression that the image is opening up. It feels like entering the interior of a Gothic cathedral, with one’s steps echoing and with one’s view directed upwards towards the firmament. The monumental space is intimidating and uplifting at the same time. It brings the limits of existence into awareness, while also dissolving them in the dimension of infinity.

It is as though the reliefs involuntarily join to form pairs, without the artist intending to create a diptych. (Fig. 33) Their deep relationship with each other can be felt; their dialogue, or rather, their intimate conversation. A type of cosmic aura brings them together as two separate entities, which are illuminated from within and which are imbued with lyrical energy. The division of the surfaces of both reliefs has the effect that they break open horizontally in the centre and open up an entrance into the depth of another dimension. The space vibrates, draws in and announces the transcendence on the other side of the squares. 

A dynamic way of looking is needed in order to follow the individual colour situations and be able to analyse specific visual impacts of the reliefs. This requires movement: one circles around the picture, comes closer to it and distances oneself, changes one’s angle of view and perspective, allows the external light to take effect, concentrates on details and considers the whole. One succumbs to the illusion of the space and attempts to explore its sources within the colour world. It is only when it is viewed from a certain distance that the relief comes to life. And now comes the most essential moment for the appreciation of the picture: the experience of its existence as living, pulsing whole. There is a musical association here: one listens into the intensity of the colour voices, imbibes the wide range of dissonant accents and counterpoint forms, and follows the coloured consonances and the melodic line. Just as music is not static, but time-oriented, so the perception of the relief changes over time, whereby the observer introduces the time factor themselves.

A lively meeting and a poetic interaction are created. Simply looking at the images appears impossible; instead, they are ‘experienced’. A major synthesis of perceptions is achieved, which extends beyond the visual, and which not only incorporates the senses, nor only the emotions and the intellect, but which also extends into a subtle sphere that is difficult to describe. At the same time, it is an invitation to enter a secretive, pulsing space. The intense radiance of Andrzej Nowacki’s reliefs enable one to cross an invisible boundary. Perhaps it is the boundary of recognition, but perhaps the painter Jerzy Nowosielski is correct when he describes being touched by a reality “not made according to our measure”. During a speech at an exhibition opening, Hubertus Gaßner emphasised this point with particular clarity: “Without icon painting, there would have been no abstraction. After all, icons do not depict reality, but are spiritual material. In the Orthodox church, the icons were carried around and treated as material, physical objects. This is also true of Andrzej Nowacki’s pictures. And the difference is that while the icons were kissed by the believers, I would ask that you refrain from kissing or touching Nowacki’s pictures. But of course, you may kneel before them if you wish.”[6]

 

Room 5: Square on paper
 

As well as the reliefs, since the late 1990s, Andrzej Nowacki has also devoted his work to one particular way of recording the moment. He produced extensive cycles of works (ranging from a dozen to countless numbers of sheets) in pastel and charcoal on paper, which he completed in the space of just a few hours. They record an unusual flow of energy, with the artist acting as a kind of intermediary. These paper squares add depth to another area of creativity. The colourfulness of the lined surface that is so characteristic of the reliefs is lacking; it is replaced by an unexpected plasticity of the paper. The careful lines of the relief disappear, yet the fragile quads do not lose their recognisable identity; they remain, like the theme of a complex improvisation, which returns in many different and yet recognisable variations. The artist’s infallible intuition sets flawless accents and contrasts in black, white and red.

Here, too, the passionate exploration of the material can be felt, which the artist exploits, in which he exists and expresses himself. It is also the passion for reaching the boundaries of his own power of expression, which is released in a spontaneous act of creation, more directly than in the reliefs. These small works reflect an intractable process of recognition that goes beyond the intellectual, which begins anew time and again at the place where the image surface and the drawing hand meet. All this within the existing square, which on the one hand marks out the boundaries of the experiment, while on the other ordering, realising and revealing the unlimited possibilities of search and discovery. (Figs. 34–41)

 

Life journeys 2
 

At around the turn of the millennium, Andrzej Nowacki met two people who in his words still play an important role in his life today; who are mentors and not least trusted friends: Bożena Kowalska, the indisputably most important art critic in the field of geometric art in Poland (Fig. 42) and Heinz Teufel, the famous German gallery owner and connoisseur of European concrete art (Fig. 43). The discussions and disputes conducted over many years with these two high-profile observers of his work gave him the opportunity to expand his artistic awareness and to deepen his understanding of the contexts of the present day. Through Bożena Kowalska, he came into contact with the Polish geometrists (Jerzy Kałucki, Koji Kamoji, Stanisław Fijałkowski, Zbigniew Dłubak, Jerzy Grabowski), and participated in a large number of workshops and exhibitions. In turn, his connection to Heinz Teufel opened the door to collector and artist circles in Germany (Horst Bartnig, Manfred Mohr, Andreas Brandt, in other words, the second generation of concrete art in Germany). (Fig. 44, 45) His friendship with the gallery owner also gave him the opportunity to meet great artists such as Max Bill, Bridget Riley, Paul Lohse and Antonio Calderara – a source of inspiration and at the same time, a kind of reflection for his own works. 

Naturally, the artist’s life journey also includes exhibitions, such as in Berlin, among them in the now closed Galerie Avantgarde, together with the Polish poster artist Jan Lenica, also a friend (Fig. 46). There were also exhibitions in Poland, to name just two major shows in Kraków (1992, 2001), in Szczecin (1996, 2004) and in Poznań. There followed a long list of exhibitions – in Japan, the US, Germany and Sweden. Each was a challenge; nearly each one was a kind of completion.

Other travels abroad are also worthy of mention, to the US and Japan. They brought new experiences and the confrontation with a different perspective onto his reliefs. Of great interest was the meeting with the Japanese public, who viewed the “pure” spar images with excited attentiveness. A knowledge of the tradition of Japanese striped fabrics for kimonos is required in order to understand the particularly high level of interest here. As one Japanese philosopher wrote: “As concerns geometric patterns, nothing expresses the relational as accurately as parallel lines. By pulling towards infinity and never meeting, they are the purest visual objectification of the relational. [...] The vertical spars have the levity of mist, or of willow twigs that are pulled down towards the Earth by gravity alone”.[7] The way in which the relief images were received in Osaka was therefore special and unique.

Nowacki’s travels to the US were also a success. There, he met a large number of interested gallery owners and collectors; he worked and exhibited his art. By this time, aside from the now countless numbers of private collectors throughout the world, his pictures were also on display in numerous museums of modern art, in Miami and Radom, in Chełm, Sczcecin, in Stuttgart and in Ostrava.

Of the many exhibitions organised by Andrzej Nowacki, or in which he participated, one deserves particular mention: the exposition in Sopot, where Nowacki showed his reliefs together with the abstract paintings of Wojciech Fangor. In the exhibition catalogue, Marta Smolińska wrote the following: “The works of both artists call ‘the density’ of the image boundaries into question and enter all the more intensively into the dialogue with the surrounding space [...] and in the case of such a rare meeting, also with themselves. The unavoidable result of this special, highly promising interaction are emotions that are invoked in the minds and imagination of the observers.”[8] Other exhibitions were of similar importance, such as in Bratislava (2015), or Stuttgart (2017) where his reliefs were hung next to works by great masters, including Max Bill, Bridget Riley and Josef Albers, and were made to prove their worth anew in this particular dialogue.

For many years now, Andrzej Nowacki has worked mainly in Berlin. In 2015–2016, he switched locations when he moved into a studio in the Czech Republic. Ostrava is the home city of Jan Svetlik, an industrialist as well as an art lover and collector, who made a space available to the artist on the site of the former Vitkovic foundry. (Fig. 47) Here, Nowacki experimented with the reduced colour of the relief in black and white. Here, he also began to create large-format, multi-part works: pictures in which two, three, four, six or even nine elements were compiled to create a new type of whole.

One high point of this latest creative period was the outstanding exhibition “On the threshold of infinity” in Sopot in 2017. In the State Art Gallery in the city, he showed over 30 reliefs, including several multi-part reliefs, and a cycle of pastels on paper. The room was filled with vibrating, luminous energy that stimulated contemplation. As Hubertus Gaßner put it: “The rhythm of poetry, the rhythm of painting, this is where the personality of the artist is present, but not when they tell us something about themselves. Rather, it is when it takes effect through the vibration and pulsing, like a heart beating”. (Fig. 48–52)

In 2018, Andrzej Nowacki moved into a new, large studio in Berlin, where he has already created a large number of new reliefs, including reliefs on a large scale. The space and time seem to suit him. (Fig. 29) However, his exploration of the square has not yet been fully completed. The artist is constantly searching for new possibilities for expression, which correspond to his inner notion of “what can be seen” (Riley).

 

In conclusion
 

The origins of the works by Andrzej Nowacki could be located in eastern European constructivism, and his cultural influence in the western European geometric art from the inter-war period, in concrete art and even in op art. And yet, despite all attempts, this work puts up resistance and cannot be fully explained by established directions or currents in art. What makes this art unique are the artist’s intuitive approaches and his conviction that geometry is able to express and impact our emotions. Of key importance, however, is his handling of colour, light and thus of the energy released by his works, which knows how to transform itself into the transcendent.

 

Ewa Czerwiakowski, December 2018