Rej Grulišáků (The Revelry of the Grulišáks)

The interweaving of mythical, geographical, and personal realms.

In the series and cycles "Dialogue of the potted I–IV" and "Catalogue of the potted I–III," which Nina Plášková has been continuously evolving since 2018, the artist persistently constructs archaic, mythical, and fairytale scenarios.

Nightmares, daydreams, dream journals, and graphic spaces emerge from the subconscious as if painted in black soot upon the walls. They are lustrous, almost still damp, and scarcely capturable by photography. Here, memories of dreams and fantasies, reality and imagination, coalesce into drawings reminiscent of Hieronymus Bosch, for which the artist creates her own narratives: alter egos, kindred and remarkably intertwined beings with whom she empathetically establishes a dialogue and communicates. In pathological collections, Plášková discovers a hidden part of herself within the deformed, the "potted" in formaldehyde, and the animals.

Her childhood, influenced by the environmental shifts between the Czech Republic and Switzerland, is reflected in an autobiographical body of work that draws from childhood memories and Dark Romanticism. Accompanied by Eastern European legends, fables, and myths, the artist discovers new approaches to her identity and reflects upon the impacts of her migration from Eastern Europe to Switzerland and Germany.

Plášková finds inspiration during visits to natural history, medico-historical, and archaeological museums, libraries, and archives, including the natural history collection of the museum in Králíky. In her cycles, she develops a unique visual vocabulary through which she subtly influences the world around her.

With the exhibition "The Revelry of the Grulišáks," Nina Plášková returns to her ancestral homeland in Králíky, where her great-grandparents once settled and, during a politically turbulent era, practiced the craft of livestock gelding. To her original region, she brings beings from Berlin, her new home, where through her characters she bridges the modern spirit of the metropolis, her own biography, history, and mythical worlds. The title of the exhibition speaks of an encounter, a dance, and a celebration of all her characters, who simultaneously hail from the depths of the forests surrounding Králíky. She approaches these beings gently, with curiosity, allowing them to narrate new stories—be it the legend of the fiery dog, the White Lady of Králíky, or the mysterious entities known as the Grulišáks.

The artist's installations provoke a confrontation with the subconscious and provide insight into internal conflicts and anxieties. They problematize the social pressure to which we are subjected, particularly in the context of our own dark resonance chambers. Her unbridled creative process visualizes an antithesis to the globalized world, in which our self-worth is frequently defined through consumption and financial success. Plášková creates humorously bizarre assemblages that evoke familial warmth, yet also darkness and isolation. Confronting (one's own) morbidity serves as a corrective, without which the superficial perfectionism of the 21st-century human would burgeon into monstrosity.

Historical exhibition spaces play a pivotal role in the presentation of the artist's works, imbuing the stories with an additional dimension. Layer by layer, we burrow through a multitude of narratives, fragments, and materials like worms.

The contrast between antiquarian, slow, and time-consuming craftsmanship and artistic techniques, such as bronze casting or working with natural pigments, and modern innovative technologies (sugar-based 3D printing, scanning, and silicone casts from natural polyurethane rubber) reflects the diversity of her oeuvre. Nina Plášková processes bronze, stone, ceramics, paper, and charcoal from her own campfire intuitively. Lacquer drawings on wood and glazes on long strips of paper form a meditatively repetitive, ornamental counterpoint to the ostensibly fragile sculptures.

A profound connection to themes of morbidity and self-irony is underscored by the contemporary aesthetic of "dark cuteness." Indeed, Nina's Grulišáks are not malevolent monsters. Mischievously grinning and imperfect anthropomorphic beings with bright red eyes blink from the depths of dense drawings. With a spark of ire and defiance, these crowded images, replete with comic-like faces, deliberately eschew direct legibility. As if cave paintings and shadow silhouettes, they transform despite, all their fairytale qualities, the traces of a childhood spirit into an immediate threat to a rational, tamed, and adult way of life.

The legend of the Grulišák of Králíky (derived from the German greulich—"ghastly" or "hideous")

The Grulišák is an enigmatic entity central to the folklore surrounding the Králíky region. According to ancient legends, he is a singular creature inhabiting the dense forests and rugged mountains. Lacking a fixed manifestation, he appears variously as a tall, emaciated man with flowing hair, a shadowy specter, or a nebulous, faceless figure. He manifests primarily during the gloaming, amidst thick fog, or under the veil of night.

The Grulišák is regarded as either a mountain spirit or a sylvan guardian. At times, he displays benevolence toward humans, warning them of impending peril or guiding them safely from the forest depths. Conversely, he may act as a capricious trickster, confounding travelers, leading them astray, and consigning them to aimless wandering.

It is whispered that the Grulišák hears every spoken word. Those who speak of him with reverence are spared his wrath; however, those who dare to mock him risk being lured deep into the wilderness, where finding the path home becomes a formidable endeavor. To this day, local belief persists that on misty days, the elusive silhouette of the Grulišák may still be glimpsed amongst the trees in the mountains surrounding Králíky.