Božidar Jurjević

Boom!
A terrible noise, something just happened. It’s the signal… a flash, then the explosion. Everything is triggered. A great explosion: the fuse had been burning for a long time. Now the revolution has started.

crédit photo: Pierre-Luc Lapointe

Božidar is an athlete: He’s in training to live and over the years to survive. Each morning, with Spartan discipline, he fights gravity, wrestling and resisting the fatigue and the dust. The weights fall to the ground, walls tremble and ropes are tightened. The noise is deafening, at times mysterious. The training is meticulous, planned in advance, like an athlete preparing for the Olympics. His body and his heart must be physically, muscularly ready to withstand the trials of his performances. The revolutionary must be ready to bring the walls down. When there is no air to breathe, the artist must not get out of breath. He must know how to catch his breath in a reflex gesture, like a swimmer, even if the environment is hostile and unfamiliar. In this event, there is no place for error: one survives or one dies! One must be ready for battle. Ready to use the sweat of one’s brow, to roll in the dust, pull ropes, move walls, be ready to call the shots and to begin again and again and again. The artist leaves nothing to chance because the revolution is about to happen.

Božidar is a traveller: Ideas for a revolution don’t come to him all at once. He must nourish them; let them ripen in order to finally use the fruit. The trip, the other, the encounters, the differences nurture the artist. These are grounds for expression and prime material for his imagination as one could see in Zaragoza in Spain and in Quebec City in Canada. The trip leads him to become a “digital tablet character,” a sort of personification of his inner thoughts produced in Quebec. He works for months, preparing, testing and finding ways to give expression to his ideas. The artist travels and makes his ideas travel. He must be constantly on top of his game in order to produce. He needs to encounter the other to ask for his/her viewpoint, opinion and advice. Thus Jurjevic’s revolution is being prepared: mentally and physically.

crédit photo: Ivan Binet

Božidar is neutral: As surprising at this may seem, the artist has chosen not to be associated with a particular colour or state. Let us say instead that he knows how to change and use camouflage according to his objective and the environment. Not supporting a colour doesn’t mean he doesn’t have conviction. Because every revolution is stained in blood: experiences in life have shaped him so that he chooses not to display a flag. He simply wishes not to carry a standard that would associate him with a religion, too restrictive for his taste. He doesn’t want to be associated with a political party in which corruption undermines credibility. He no longer follows any particular belief: inspiration is his best ally. The artist however has the conviction that man can do better, can go further, can be better and more beautiful. There is no point in being labelled, like the remains of the burnt flags illustrate: his standard after the battle. In reality, one must remain revolutionary in the service of the people and the majority.

Božidar is a combatant: He has been as close as one can get to fighting. He has become more aware in the heart of the fog to better broach it, to evaluate it better. The artist has seen the animal side of man incapable of self-control, of excelling, of becoming human in the service of his family, his community and his people. He has seen the greed and all the human absurdity. In the blood bath, he understood suffering. In the mud, he understood the ground. In the fog he understood where the light was. The revolution has become his theme, his vision. He was in the trenches on the front line during the fighting. He saw the bad. He did well. He has chosen the good.

Božidar is a worker: The corrupt political systems have given him inspiration: the ideal seed, the pure makings of a revolutionary. Power makes one thirsty, power calls, power increases but power darkens, breaks up, deteriorates and makes one deceitful. The corruption in political systems inspires Božidar, gives him fertile ground that is limitless and constantly repeated by man the animal. A capitalist carnivore too powerful for his adversaries, stuffed full, no longer having any appetite. But the artist has chosen the people. This crowd that has a craving for truth about the government that enlisted them. They will know in the end, through experience and by disposing of the monarch with blue blood. However, it is actually red, the blood flowing on the cloth around the monarch’s neck. In the end, the people know through experience, learning and discovering the nature of the monarch and his henchmen. The artist has matured: become more aware, more realistic and closer to reality that is complex and in constant flux. He is now a master.

Božidar is Croatian: His country has made him who he is and all that he has become. He loves his country: he’s patriotic. He hates his country: he’s a deserter. Some would say a revolutionary. He wears the colour of blood, the red that guides the revolution and the blood of innocent martyrs who fall in combat. He has not chosen an ethnic group because his concern is man. Division exists only through the roles that we decide to take on and keep. He has decided to fight against the forces of nature. Strong natural elements, elements that are naturally sound. “The system is awful” he began by telling me. Nature is beautiful, I thought. Do you dare defy it?

crédit photo: Ivan Binet

Boom!
In a revolution, everything begins and ends with an explosion. A deafening noise creates chaos and disrupts the order. There is nothing left to burn, nothing more to consume. The protagonists are tired. They must regain their strength for the next battle. Seven blocks of ice, seven protagonists are frozen and petrified by the battle. Each one in his block recovers his strength before the next thaw, the next human carnage. Awful…