The sculpture of the bull is a massive metal composition constructed mainly of railway scrap metal. With respect to its shape, ruggedness and monumentality the bull represents a challenge to anyone who deals with volume, form and mass – in other words – with sculpture. Besides the appeal that the bull has from a sculptural perspective, this animal has a strong symbolic value. The cult of the bull is deeply embedded in the subconscious of people and in the mythology of Mediterranean countries. At ox exhibitions in Istria I often have the opportunity to meet face to face with the huge Istrian ox, i.e. the “boškarin”, a unique experience that awakes in humans the sense of wonder and awe.
As I mentioned earlier, the parts I used to make this sculpture were found during long walks along the abandoned Austro-Hungarian railway. In fact, my hometown was once a part of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy and it was as such directly connected via a railway line to Vienna. Walking along the abandoned railway is an escape from everyday life and a journey through time to the near or remote past…and while landscapes alternate, leaving the people and the sea behind, I walk on rhythmically repeating thresholds that taper up to the point of origin. This linear perspective is enchanting. The point of origin is mysterious and elusive, I know, but I am already on the tracks and I have to try. Along the railway tracks, I begin to spot broken nails, wedges and screws. I gather them imagining that the person who last used them was certainly a clean-shaven man, conscientious and responsible in his work. Thresholds keep on alternating, as do my thoughts and images… I am already deep in the quiet Istrian landscape, far away from modern civilization.
I sense that locomotive whistles and the murmur of human voices are still present in this never ending moment. I do not know why my thoughts go to Europe, that far Europe of the past and today’s Europe for which the media and politicians of my small country are crying out. I recalled that Europe was actually abducted by Zeus disguised as a bull, who took it clsose to a cypres … I can see a cypress and I’d like to be disguised as a bull to do with Europe whatever I feel like. I have reached a place where the railway line has been considerably damaged. I am surprised and confused by the pile of metal screws, even parts of rails scattered on dry grass. I decide to go back, pick up and use these metal pieces to revive some of my sculptures.
I resume my journey at twilight; dusk is coming while the smell of country air is becoming more humid. The point of origin is less visible and begins to play with my eyes and mind. Different forms start appearing far away at the point where the tracks merge. At once I begin to recognize the clear contours of the bull, at the beginning of the tracks, at the beginning of the world, at the beginning of history.
I tried to translate the above impression and that uncommon sight into this sculpture.