Saint John the Baptist 1985

Editor: So here we have Maria Bozoky's "Saint John the Baptist" from 1985. It looks like a watercolor and oil painting, which is a pretty unique combination. I'm immediately struck by the figure's expressive pose and the swirling lines. It feels almost unfinished, like a fleeting vision. What do you see in this piece? Curator: Ah, yes, Bozoky. This isn't just a painting; it's an invocation. Think of the Old Masters grappling with similar subjects, then cast their marble and bravado into the rushing waters of modernism. The loose lines *are* the point. They suggest the unformed nature of prophecy, of John's own struggle between humanity and the divine spark. Do you feel that tension, the way the brown ink suggests both the earthiness of his raiment and a kind of self-inflicted suffering? Editor: I see what you mean about the tension. The lines around his face especially, they almost seem to vibrate. It definitely makes him seem less like a saint in a stained-glass window and more like a… person wrestling with something. But I'm still a little caught up on the watercolor combined with oil. Is there a reason why the artist used two so different mediums? Curator: An excellent question! The watercolour creates an immediate wash, the ethereal atmosphere where the spirit descends and a human feels enlightened, whereas oil sticks more physically. This mix, for me, it is as if to suggest John the Baptist is trying to cling to that spiritual awareness despite it starting to evaporate and he feels the return of solid reality with all its questions, darkness, doubt. It gives the character a feel of instability, a mental process caught in paint. I imagine she might chuckle at such grand pronouncements! What is certain to me is that she would feel rather than analyze. Editor: That's a perspective I hadn't considered before, thanks. Curator: And you have offered me the pleasure of putting words to this image, hopefully doing justice to Bozoky’s deeply sensitive soul. Thank you.