Reksi sleeps 1991

Curator: It’s a simple sketch really, done in pencil in 1991 by Alfred Freddy Krupa. It’s titled "Reksi sleeps", and it seems very...personal. Editor: You know, immediately, it's this vulnerability. The soft lines, the head tilted just so. It feels almost like peeking into a very intimate moment. There's a gentleness that speaks to a particular kind of emotional labor too; bearing witness and choosing tenderness when capturing an image. Curator: Absolutely. Given Krupa's background—his grappling with identity, displacement during conflict—I see this drawing as a quiet interlude, a safe harbor found in the companionship of an animal. It becomes almost symbolic, doesn’t it? Reksi representing that refuge. Editor: Precisely. And in a world constantly demanding we perform strength, drawings like this, ones that dare to present stillness and vulnerability, become incredibly subversive acts. They challenge the capitalist demand that we constantly “produce”, they are vital declarations. What narratives are we building when we highlight depictions of gentle sleep? Curator: The 'amateur sketch' quality too…there’s a rawness. It isn’t overworked or posed. Reksi is simply, unselfconsciously, asleep. It removes that performative aspect entirely, emphasizing instead the beauty in the everyday. It’s like catching a glimpse of grace in something ordinary. Editor: That perceived "amateur" quality is also where a lot of its power resides. It's almost defiant of established norms around technique or polish. It forces us to ask—whose standards of artistry are we even measuring against, and why? Krupa centres feeling here, not necessarily form, not performative precision; but direct communion with the viewer. Curator: Thinking about it more, I find myself wondering about Krupa’s state of mind while drawing. Did he find peace in simply observing Reksi's peaceful slumber? Art becomes therapy, right? Editor: Definitely, there's that aspect too, that is to say, the artist’s self-regulation! But maybe also thinking through the animal’s right to have peace as well. In environments where everything is on show, or potentially commodifiable, sleep as an act of refusal. It speaks volumes, and it offers a powerful commentary, wouldn't you agree? Curator: Absolutely. It’s incredible how much emerges from such a seemingly simple piece. Thank you for the chat. It’s given me a lot to think about. Editor: My pleasure, It's always a gift to consider these nuances. Every sleep portrait hides multiple universes!