Peter Martin paints despondent Christ / Stephen Sokoloff
A Moslem woman at the foot of the cross holds a lifeless child whose arms have been blasted off by bombs. Against the background of a war-torn city some newspaper headlines divulge the starvation deaths of 80.000 children, while others decry the affluent investors who are augmenting their fortunes with food-price speculation. This time the Savior, who has returned to give us a second chance, decides that he is no longer willing to endure the agony of crucifixion, for he sees that his sacrifice is in vain. Holding a pistol to his head, he ponders putting a quick end to his sufferings.Martin, a devoted Catholic, does not intend to be blasphemous, but to promote positive social change. The stark, lightening-like black-white contrasts of his figures are reminiscent of Tintoretto or El Greco. However the angels and drug-addicts he paints are certainly not sublime; if not greedy and vindictive, they are human wrecks – victims of burn-out. Many of them somehow manage to maintain a calm facade, but Martin’s expressionistic works peer behind it to show us their tormented souls.
Unfortunately nobody wants to hang such disturbing pictures in his living room or office. In order to be able to afford to do the kind of art that he thinks really matters, Martin earns his livelihood as a sales executive for a shipping firm. Responsible for Eastern Europe, he must travel to a different country each week. In only seven years he has managed to reach a top managerial position without any formal academic training.
Peter Martin was born in Lower Austria in 1972. He learned to paint primarily as an autodidact, but did take private lessons from lithography professor Alfred Billy. During a four-month stay in Southern Spain in 1999 he painted homeless people, but in spite of some exhibitions was not able to live from his art when he returned to Austria. For him that only proved to be a temporary setback, however. He is convinced that with faith you can move mountains. His works, often displayed in banks and offices, are going to be presented in the Gallery Art Park in Linz this October. Opening day is an event you certainly will not want to miss!
SPOOKY SENTINELS / Stephen Sokoloff
Arrayed in a semicircle, Manfred Kielnhofer’s ghostly “time guardians” seem to have abandoned themselves to infinite sadness. What do the life-sized polyester figures represent? Are they bereaved women, meditating monks or nuns or premonitory spirits sent to warn us of impending dangers? Are they supposed to inspire awe, compassion or fear? The artist refuses to tell us why he created them and if we dare to peer inside their cloaks we discover only black emptiness.
The garments with their many folds are vaguely reminiscent of those sculpted by Rodin. Although the first ones Kielnhofer molded were gray and drab, many of the newer generation display bright colors and cheerful patterns. The artist now plans to equip some of them with interior lighting. To emphasize their timelessness he photographs them in front of both ancient castles and modern high-rises, usually at night.
Manfred Kielnhofer, 41, has been operating the gallery “Art Park” in Linz, Austria, since 2005. He is an abstract painter who used a naked female body as a “canvas” for one of his best works. Under his guidance 1,500 eager youngsters produced the largest children’s painting in the world (3,300 m²), which was displayed at many different places in Austria. Another of his gigantic masterpieces (40,000 m²) was composed of sunflowers and other herbs which had been planted in the middle of a field of grain near the city of Enns. It could be best viewed from the sky, but unfortunately the pilot Kielnhofer hired decided to fly off on vacation before most of its “pixels” had blossomed and the farmer had to harvest the creation before he returned.
