Masks 1940

Cyprián Majerník made this haunting painting, Masks, with gouache on paper, with a restricted palette of muted browns, greys, and pinks. The image sort of emerges and retreats before your very eyes. I can imagine Majerník wrestling with the surface, the figures gradually taking shape through layers of opaque paint. The masks themselves are chilling, right? I wonder what he was trying to express. Is it concealment, or protection, or something else? Maybe the little donkey knows? That slash of pink across the torso of the central figure—it's so immediate and raw. The surface is built up with these marks, each one a decision, a feeling, a moment in time. It reminds me a little of Beckmann, but with a softer edge. You can tell Majerník was looking at other artists, in a way, all artists are. They speak to each other across time, inspiring one another. It’s like a big, ongoing conversation, you know?