INSTITUTE OF CONTEMPORARY ART - DUNAÚJVÁROS (ICA-D), DUNAÚJVÁROS (HU)
[…] We are constantly searching for the state in which we could still be one with nature – the state which preceded the awakening of human consciousness. Since consciousness is reflection, it separates us from a natural existence, from nature itself. In short, Márk’s work is about this separation. It is about the fragmentation, desolation and division that exist between us and nature between the lives of animals and plants and our lives. If we pursue this thought to a radical conclusion, humans are but an error of nature, albeit a superior one. We are an aberration, an infestation, a contagion, an open sore. It is enough to think of all the plant and animal species we have already driven to extinction. Humans are the scanning error – the tear, the rift, the discontinuity – we see when we look at Márk’s plants. […]
[…] What remains – displayed in this closed garden – is mutation. The man-made environment today is a perverse and mutant coexistence of plastic, metal and concrete with what is left of nature. Coexistence is of course an idiotic expression for something that is in fact quite the opposite of coexistence and is better described as inorganic separation. Márk’s photographs are like condensed Beckett plays or silent, absurd haikus. We can see odd groups in the cold light. Plants taken out of context … […]
[…] Our world isn’t only defective; it is not even real. There might actually be some sort of development in this area of our civilization, because the past 100 years can be described as a continued abstraction or depletion of reality and a movement into a virtual, digital realm. While the life we live today seems to happen within the confines of reality, it is in fact purely virtual and digital. It opens the door to another closed garden, which in turn seems to be infinite. It is, however, just as closed, alienated and inorganic as reality. What we see in these pictures are plants that have been digitalized over and over, while the videos show a digital destruction and reconstruction of reality. Much like some sick sorcery. […]’
György Cséka (esthete)
