Spontaneous allegories or the ultra-imaginary world of Ion Bârlădeanu

What happened quite recently to the "master of collages" is probably one of the most famous and spectacular stories in Romania's recent history. From a precariously sheltered man, through an artistic curatorial discovery, Ion Bârlădeanu became an ultramediatized figure and hence an artist with quota.

Reporter Arhitectura: Welcome to Arhitectura magazine!

Ion Bârlădeanu: Hello, please don't call me Mr. Bârlădeanu, call me like this: "Mr. Ionica". You should know that I am a simple, self-taught man.

R.A.: When did you start working?

I.B.: What I do is called collage. Some people call it pop art. My work has been exhibited at the H'art Gallery.

R.A.: What year did you make your first works, though?

I.B.: It was in 1972 and I started putting hats on some people. I first did caricature drawings and evolved to collage.

R.A.: What has changed since then?

I.B.: I evolved a lot until I reached perfection. I see now that what I do has value. Look, I even put flying horses.

R.A.: Where do flying horses come from?

I.B.: In my collages, pigs can fly too.

R.A.: How did you start this work?

I.B.: The movie "Night of the Generals" amazed me. I've seen many Becket movies. In communism, I used to go to the cinema and I also saw a lot of films at the cinematheque. One movie was "The Town in Search of its Killer", with a psychopath who killed children. This was published in a Polish newspaper. I don't understand their language. But I had a translator.

I'm kind of like a director. Certain characters I made them pass into another world. Like Liviu Rebreanu did in The Hanged Man's Forest.

R.A.: What do your works have in common?

I.B.: They're funny. Some of them make you frown, but others make you sad. In a way, I resemble Toma Caragiu. A great comedian, but also a playwright. He made people laugh, but nobody thought he was sometimes sad. Another great comedian I knew was Puiu Călinescu. Great actor.

R.A.: You traveled quite a lot: Germany, Poland, France. What do you think about how we live here in Romania?

I.B.: It's a great misfortune in this country, but it's also a lot of fun.

Why?

I.B.: There are many reasons. Gigi (Becali) pays a lot. He is not a believer and his palace, no matter how much gold he puts on it, you can't see it from the airplane.

R.A.: What do you think about architects?

I.B.: I'm kind of an architect myself with my work. In school, I flunked algebra and technical drawing. I had to learn a lot to pass the class. I went to masons' school in Iasi. I was in the masonry class. I didn't like it, masonry is miserable. Much nicer to be a mason.

Look, this work is perspective. Nobody taught me. I dotted here with a black pen, divided it every 2 centimeters, and then did the base.

R.A.: How long does it take you to do a piece?

I.B.: There are some dramatic ones. Look, here's Mircea Diaconu under arrest, next to Liviu Ciuvei and truncated heads. I spent a whole day on this. I combined 60 characters. In this picture, with me in the cathedral in Reims, I made a self-portrait. This hat I found in the garbage. I washed it and posed with it.

R.A.: What impressed you the most in your travels.

I.B.: When I was in Poland, I also visited two crematoria. Auschwitz and Birkenau.

....

I work patiently. Look, here's Adam Sandler with some statues.

Look, I got ready to come here to the magazine for the interview. I thought you were gonna ask me about the statues. Uh, just write that I said so: The Paiațe scaffolding at the National Theater is very ugly, that Eminescu has palms the size of the soles of his feet, and "Potato in a Potato Pot" is both ugly and inappropriate.