Slavko Kopač. The Hidden Treasure. Informal Art, Surrealism, Art Brut, ed. Roberta Trapini (5 Continents Editions)
When I went to art college, I struggled for a while with my inability to draw or paint things ‘as they were’ until my painting tutor introduced me to the work of Jean Dubuffet, an artist who worked incessantly, using anything to hand: paint, collage, butterfly wings, pencils, sticks, plaster, mud, oil, sand, straw and polystyrene. This allowed me to move on from my worries, embrace abstraction and start to understand that art is about more than realistic depiction and narrative.
Slavko Kopač is a similar artist to Dubuffet, one who independently developed his own practice in Croatia, then later moved to France. He also had strong artistic connections with Italy, including studying in Florence, and this book is a catalogue of an autumn 2025 exhibition there. In France, he and Dubuffet finally met, and Kopač was introduced to the idea of ‘Art Brut’ or what is sometimes called naive or outsider art, sometimes made by institutionalised mental health patients, and got to see Dubuffet’s own collection of this kind of work. He also met some of the Surrealists and contributed to the movement from the fringes.
But, I hear you cry, what is Kopač’s art like? I was in the same position before this volume arrived for I had never heard of him either. There are childlike paintings of animals, grotesque raw sculptures, ink doodles, blurred watercolours, dynamic stick figures, strange creatures and abstract trees, textured colour fields, collages and works with text embedded in the colours.
In the same way as Dubuffet’s and other artists’ works, it is the energy, restlessness and breadth of engagement that intrigues. The originality of how the artist sees, the way he looks and translates that into line and colour, shape and texture. These are of course what all art is made of, but sometimes established processes and ways of depicting or recreating something are short-circuited, hotwired perhaps, and the artistic vehicle moves off at high speed.
It is dangerous driving, reckless even, fuelled by a primitive and immediate creativity, an initial encounter and engagement that results in dynamic and dramatic outcomes. There is clearly a gradual refinement over the years, but no loss of energy in the work. If the book did not mention Surrealism I would probably have not attached the label, since there is no sense of juxtaposition for the purpose of shock, humour or outrage; simply Kopač’s ongoing and enthusiastic engagement with available materials and the world around him.
Without any wish to contain or denigrate Kopač and his work there are many other artists one could compare or link his work to: Michel Tapié’s ‘Diagramme’ in the catalogue mentions several I find pertinent, including Mark Tobey, Alberto Burri, Sam Francis and Karel Appel and the whole COBRA art group. Dubuffet, however, seems most useful and similar, although I find his claims that Kupač ‘turns his back on institutional art’ and the suggestion that ‘He rejects any compromise with cultural intellectualism’ somewhat ridiculous. (What is institutional art? Why does thinking about art within culture compromise anyone?) I can, however, only agree that he ‘attains an expressive intensity’, although for me that no doubt comes from thinking about work as it is made.
Wherever one wishes to place Kopač – as some kind of self-taught and inspired genius or a visionary expressionist – his art, indeed this book, is a delightful sprawling and informative introduction to his work..
Rupert Loydell
.