Gheorghe Ilea. ”Consciously or not, the direct visual contact with American art, especially in that period, must have left its marks on Romanian culture.”

 Gheorghe Ilea, b. 1958, artist

1. What American art exhibitions did you see between 1965 and 1989?

2. Between 1965 and 1989, did you see American art in Romania or abroad?

Between 1965 and 1989 I only saw the exhibition The Visual Artist at Work in America in Cluj in 1979.

3. Which American artists and what American approaches/trends/styles interested you at the time?

Before the exhibition in 1979, I wasn't particularly interested in American artists, nor in the various trends in American art. It was only after 1980 and especially after 1984 that I started paying attention to American artists, the ones present in that exhibition.

4. What position did American art and visual culture have in the artistic milieu you frequented at the time; was it a topic of conversation, was it influential?

Please compare it with the influence of European art or art from communist spaces.

Between 1980 and 1984 I studied painting in Cluj. American art was relatively well-known, it was talked about, but only occasionally, and it wasn't a major topic of debate. Western European art, on the other hand, was the center of interest and our standards and training were molded according to it. The kind of drawing we were taught back then was more classical, more descriptive, more anatomically rigorous – if it's the human body we're talking about. Maybe this approach to drawing is a matter of the influence of socialist spaces. However, the influence of American art was scarcely noticeable, at least at the Institute. 

5. Retrospectively, do you think that American art and visual culture were a decisive factor in your development as an artist/theoretician?

6. Did the American art exhibitions organized in Romania during that period contribute decisively in this sense, or did the information you had about American art and visual culture in general contribute more to this impact?

Yes, there did come a time when American art contributed a lot to my artistic development.

In 1979, I visited the exhibition several times. All I got out of it was the impression of some brightly lit rooms with big pictures with dynamic compositions and a different color scheme than what I was familiar with. I don't think anything much stuck with me, maybe just Willem de Kooning, Rauschenberg, and Pollock. Everything was too new and hard to digest. And I was left with another thing too, the clearest memory of whole stacks of flyers that were being distributed so insistently by two ladies in uniform that you ended up taking them whether you wanted to or not. This publication is how I got to know American art. It's 20 pages long, 26.5 x 21 cm. It was very well made, in well printed color. 

Starting in 1984, I worked at a textiles printing factory in Zalău. I had a table I sat at that ended in a white wall. On that table, among other things, was this publication, The Visual Artist at Work in America. My job at the factory was to create print patterns on canvas. Every day, I would open up the catalogue, as I called it, looked at the pictures, at the artists, there were even a few quotes and phrases about the thoughts of each artist. I liked looking at the pictures and reading – and, little by little, the wall in front of me would disappear and I would begin to see and understand a different world, not just in terms of art, but in terms of thought. I spent 15 years at the factory and the catalogue never left my table. Almost everything those artists said seemed true to me. Willem de Kooning: "... [...] I don't think... art in general is a comfortable environment". Jackson Pollock: "[...] I make no qualms about making changes, destroying the image, etc., because the painting has its own destiny. I only try to make it real." Helen Frankenthaler: "A truly good painting gives the impression that it came forth spontaneously, in its totality [...]." Frank Stella: "[...] What you see is what you see." David Smith: "[...] It's the conflict of knowledge that makes art, not the certainty of artistic intent, nor the technique or material..." Robert Rauschenberg: "Painting simultaneously reflects art and life... I try to act in the space between them." Andy Warhol: "[...] There is nothing beyond the surface." George Segal: "In my mind I am certain that I cannot separate matter from spirit [...]." Louise Nevelson: "Shadow and space are truly the objects of my interest [...]." Jasper Johns: "[...] Take any object. Do something else to it. Do something else to it. Do something else to it."

I'm selectively quoting their words, picking what seemed essential to me. Their ideas seemed to contradict our usual understanding of art. The photos of the artists depicted them at work. The reproductions were large and varied, well chosen. Everything drew you in, pushed you to work. Be brave, it's no matter if you don't have canvas, do what Rauschenberg did, you can take an unused duvet and paint it, and if you think it's missing something, add the pillow – like his Bed. My encounter with American art happened at the right place and at the right time for me. At the factory, I had the chance to make screen prints too. When I saw the way they looked, I felt the need to paint them. And so some of them ended up with multiple layers of paint and screen printing over a period of several years. In 1987, I also began painting large, two meter canvases. Sometimes I'd be at work at night and, since I was all alone, I would paint; it was the train car series. I'd paint a train car with gasoline, I've written about this before, I had the canvas on my table next to the paint cans. Black was dominant, but there were other colors too. After a while, I hung the canvas higher, on a nail, and something wasn't right. On the table, I had a yellow paint can in view and I realized I'd taken it into account while working, so I fixed it by painting the can on the canvas. 

In 1992, I published something alongside my personal exhibition at Artexpo, where I wrote a little American-like text of my own. "Objects institute a multiplicitous world of their own. It's not their formal or chromatic appearance that interests me first and foremost, but the possibility of engaging in a dialogue with them that might reveal something from one of their realities, something more intimate, never final." Actually, everything interested me, everything was painting, wherever I looked, without needing things to be arranged in a composition, everything seemed perfect for painting. I thought I could paint anything. I think my interest in American art and the attitude of American artists contributed to this. It's strange that I was never interested in studying them, in deepening my knowledge of American pop art, I know almost nothing outside of this publication.

7. Do you remember whether the presentation and reception of American art and visual culture were encouraged by the communist regime?

I don't think the contact with American art was encouraged by the communist regime. 

8. Was being a sympathizer of American art esthetically/ideologically/politically risky?

In Zalău, where I worked, everything seemed slower, more isolated. In 1998, I painted a red barrel, called it The Red Barrel, and exhibited it. Some folks asked me: "Oh, is it a powder keg? What do you mean by it?", I answered "No, it's a red barrel, it was beautiful so I painted it." I never declared myself a sympathizer of American art, I didn't think it was anyone else's business. 

9. Retrospectively, do you think the influence of American art and visual culture on Romanian art and visual culture between 1965 and 1989 contributed to the transformation/development of Romanian culture and society? If so, in what way?

I think American art did contribute to the development of Romanian art – vaguely and simply put, it gave it more courage. I don't have an expert analysis to offer, I have no data to compare and draw conclusions from, but I can tell you my experience. One day, while I was working on screen prints, I used a very strong, fresh yellow-green. I didn't usually use this color and I asked myself that night why I had used it. I realized that I was wearing a fresh green shirt at the time. Consciously or not, the direct visual contact with American art, especially in that period, must have left its marks on Romanian culture.