Eva Suhajek (*1996) is a London based painter, performer and installation artist born in Prague, Czech Republic. Prior to her studies at the Royal College she received her BA in Painting at UAL: Wimbledon College of Art.
Recent exhibitions include the current RCA Degree Show at Cromwell Place, her solo show Ludicrum Playaria at the Chelsea College of Art's Landing Space and the group show of emerging artists Raphael- Remaking History at The British Museum.
In my artwork the undigested mental content of the day creates new situations where different forms meet to create alternatives to what we know. My on-going subject is painting going beyond its frame. I am blending the distinction between 2D/3D and make use of colours, patterns and forms to create large-scale painterly installations. The crucial element in my painting language is the performance of colour as a spiritual force that causes an immediate emotional response.
I am interested in playful engagement with the audience. Playfulness is a key approach in my artistic practice, but equally my understanding and perception of the world as such. I look at it as a tool for emancipation, a tool for becoming liberated from social and political restrictions. By creating encounters in forms of installations in public space as well as formal institutions I am continuing to explore the moment when play happens. This moment of participation is an ephemeral and hard to describe instance, where one is present and open to carefree engagement.
Inseparable from my work is my love of poetry - one of my favourite forms of play, using words and emotions to incapsulate personal meaning. I use it as a form of my emotional research and as a tool to listen carefully and empathetically to my soul. My poems reflect my in-depth experience in this world and complement and support my art practice.
My work is informed by concepts of Jungian Analysis such as dreams, symbols, active imagination or Sandplay therapy. My relationship to Jungian Analysis developed through my interest in Sandplay therapy- a nonverbal, therapeutic intervention that makes use of a sandbox, toy figures, and sometimes water, to create scenes of miniature worlds that reflect a person’s inner thoughts, struggles, and concerns. Through the tangible emergence of personal and archetypal symbols, Sandplay has the possibility of leading the client into layers of experience that are often preverbal and long forgotten to the conscious mind.
I can see art installations having a capacity to act as sanctuaries for contact with the unconscious world out of which can emerge a real healing experience. This goes beyond the traditional understanding of art in a pluralistic environment of artistic practice, curating and psychotherapy.
There is always a space for you to hide
There is a space for you to hide in between the piled dishes in my kitchen
There is a space for you to hide in memories treasured behind the windowpanes
There is a space for you to hide in between the swaying leaves
There is a space for you to hide between the cracks in pavements on my walks to what means home
There is a space for you to hide between the thoughts if this is what I always wished for
There is a space for you to hide in all my doubts growing between reassurances
There is a space for you to hide between my breaths taken in solitude
There is a space for you to hide behind my closed eyes in between my days at night
There is a space for you to hide in between my carefully planted plans
There is a space for you to hide in all the almosts of this universe
There is a space for you to hide on the edge of my tears
There is a space for you to hide like an undercover ally in all the blossoming alleys
There is a space for you to hide between all the wonderings
There is a space for you to hide between the lost property department of my forgotten dreams
There is a space for you to hide in the incubator, in which I abandoned my premature love
There is a space for you to hide between all the envelopes in the world
sealed by love and opened with pocket knifes.
There is space for you to hide in between all the lines.
Don’t worry, there is always enough space for you to hide in mine.
Another sleep, another sun, another screen- what lies beneath?
Time has shown its different forms.
Tension has been released- unstretched.
Lockdown is unlocking what has been imprisoned.
Looking from inside out can also be a journey within.
Arms weakened by love
It is as if you still stand between these four walls,
forever kissed by you.
Holding me in your arms weakened by love.
Smearing pollen into my open pores,
as my sleeping blossoms began to open for you.
Searching for the epicentre of their bloom,
careful not to tread over their sprouting roots.
White lilies undressed of their innocence sheets,
and soaked, their somnolent petals in blood,
from my heart leaks,
caused by its furious races in my rib cage.
Your abandoned vulnerabilities
welcomed the fragrant infatuation of their toxic embrace.
And your fluctuating currents,
swaying in the haunting light of honeymoon,
helped to disperse their fertile seeds
to the outskirts of our expanding neighbourhood.
Looking now at the red weed,
crawling around my room like blood veins,
It is as if you still hold these walls up,
their cracks sturdily sealed by your kisses,
and my strong arms forever weakened by your love.
We can experience travel whilst sitting still.
Sit back and relax and let the sound take you on the journey.
Sitting with silence
Sitting with silence I am not alone in an empty room.
Sitting with silence I am beside you in our mutual faraway.
Sitting with silence I am beside myself from our distant togetherness.
Sitting with silence I am.
Sitting with silence, we send our be-winged mimes to make each other smile.
Sitting with silence we cover each other’s ears and eyes,
to hide from loudness of the screaming pantomime.
Sitting with my silence beside yours, I am no one else.
Sitting with silence we watch the life pass as muted film.
Sitting with silence, we hear all that is important
and sitting with silence we remain speechless from all that we hear.
