WACŁAW WANTUCH
Wacław Wantuch’s nudes are classics of sculpture, monochrome jigsaws full of inhibited emotions. Hidden behind the camera, the artist pretends innocence and provokes his models into para-erotic poses. He doesn’t let them decide about their body or tell their own stories of its beauty. He rules out coquetry. Like all demiurges he has his own idea. His pictures are perfect thanks to his impeccable choice of the parts of the nude to make up his intended, well-planned effect. At times the body has the right to present itself fully - for that there’s a moment in time, too - but artistry lies in the details; the perfection of the breasts, buttocks, or thighs. Colour is irrelevant. Just the shape counts, as in unpainted sculpture. The absence of colour helps you concentrate. We're no longer so sure - as we view the familiar shapes of breasts, buttocks, thighs, and hips, marvelously transformed by Wacław Wantuch into not very easily decipherable poetic landscapes, cold cubist sculptures, or still life - whether we're observers or peeping toms, whether we admire or desire.
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